It was almost 6 o’clock and the night was drawing closer. Waiting patiently for the return of his prey, he lay with his body embedded in the fallen leaves of what looked like an endless procession of hedges. The silence was deafening. He had been there for almost three hours, and only one car had passed by, it was going to be a long night for him. The skies were casting a dark, unwanted shadow over him, as though they knew for what purpose he was present. It had started to rain, its pressure strengthening rapidly. Within minutes buckets of rain belted down hard on the ground, leaving him deeply embedded in the thick garden mud. He struggled to reposition himself, as the slightest of his movements could attract attention to the bush in which he was concealed. His concentration doubled as another set of headlights busted through the trees and peered at him through the rain but again they carried on the road accompanied by the sound of its engine. It must have been a van, he thought, as he could still hear the roar of the engine. He raised his rifle, and took a concentrated look at the house, in order to make an accurate shot. The house was a small detached bungalow in a state of disrepair; belonging to a middle-aged lady, afraid of the outdoors. The curtains were drawn, and the nets were extremely discoloured. Strangulating vines of ivy twisted and turned round the house, clenching it tightly in its possession.Through this tangled mass of plants a shed protruded from the ground, unlike the house the rain highlighted its wooden walls and bounced neatly off its glassed windows but the roof had seen better days and a glance through an... ... middle of paper ... ...er. His body relaxed. She lifted her bag, her position made her a perfect target-just a single bullet. His arm was raised. His finger poised on the trigger, ready to strike. He fired. The shot killed her with a revolting wound to the back of the head. Her body crumpled to the ground. Within minutes her body was drained of blood. She lay there motionless. One push of the trigger, and her world had been snatched from her. I wasted not my valuable minutes and swiftly concealed all indications of my presence. Before taking my leave I took one last look at her. The remnants of her brain poured out of her head endlessly. It was a sight to see. Who would have ever believed that this blood-spattered corpse would make me a million pounds richer? So precious was her life to her, and others, that somebody wanted her dead!
His opposer stands triumphantly as he thought to have succeeded in his mission. “How ill mannered is he?” the sniper murmured to himself with a devious smile. Standing tall in all black; blazer, bow tie, socks, Balmoral shoes, with the button up also to be corresponding. He appears seemingly endless like a black shadowed character made up to startle young children. The opposing sniper moves as if he is the actual Slender Man. As he stands as a vacuous man, I conjure my scheme to vanish him.
often, when he was sure that no one was about, he lifted the rifle and
In the distance, the phone is ringing away , pulling deputy director , Lydia Keller out of her mind and back into the station office. Lydia quickly picks the phone up and presses talk, “Deputy director Keller speaking”, a male voice replies,“ma’am, it's constable stilinski” the officer says " we have an emergency and Detective Deyes requests your presence immediately" Lydia let's out a soft breath, whatever's happened must be bad if she is needed at the scene. “whats happened?” She asked. There's a brief pause before stilinski answers "... we have a triple homicide and it's .. messy" Lydia remains expressionless, there's no place for emotions in a job like this “I'll be there right away” Lydia says, hanging up the phone. Lydia briskly walks
Trails of thick smoke danced in the air, twirling into all sorts of directions. Nothing but haze fogged up the brown tinted aviators dangling off Detective Killinger’s eyes. Out from his eternal slumber, Killinger awoke as the backend of a lawn chair tipped back ever so slightly. As he wrangled around on the warm red carpet, a cold metal vice clenched his wrist, preventing him from exiting the scene. Handcuffs. Of course, he fished around into the abyss of his pockets, only to come up with a handful of lint, an empty flask, a crumpled pack of Camel cigarettes, and the address of a motel. No badge. No gun.
car was old and coming to its end the engine grumbled as it came to a
There were once three friends Luke, Adam, and Eli. They were running for their lives from alien soldiers. They had only some food, water and a knife each. “Runnnnn they're gaining on us!” yelled Luke who was at the front. After they lost them they stopped to rest. They were in the forest of pyrex. They knew they had to get to hi valley for it was the only safe place in all the world. They were close to the place thought they just had to avoid many soldiers and bullets and then it would be a straight shot to the valley. Eli pointed to a map and said “It might be a few day stretch from here.” “But” interrupted Adam “There are soldiers everywhere that will shoot you on the spot,” luke said “We should go this way through the Spirit forest because, there is no way any soldier would go through it.” even though the voyage would take longer it was the safest way.
As the month went by, all the murderers were caught. According to Mooney, they were all working together. “They were like some sort of gang,” said Mooney, “Just less organized.” The killers were caught, due to evidence being found in their houses, many of which, were murder weapons.
Imagine sitting in your cozy home, watching TV, and all of a sudden there are bright headlights where your TV is supposed to be. This actually happened to someone because of a role- playing game called ‘assassin’. ‘Assassin’ is a brutal game where high school students participate in a 2.5 week mock- shooting with water or nerf guns. The teams pool in $20 a team and the winning team wins the pool of money. Students should not be able to play the role- playing game, assassin because it creates confusion with the police and law, it is dangerous to the players and people around them, and teens could be tempted to break laws while playing the game.
“Get down!” says Sean as he tackles me to the ground. “we’re surrounded we’re the last two left!’ He says in panic “we have to mo-“cut short by the sound of him hitting the ground.
The Assassin - Short Story Orange headlights flashed past his face, fading like forgotten dreams. The night held stillness in its arms, which was thick enough to walk. on. Then he went on. A slow creeping chill stalked through the air, threatening the onset of icy rains.
there was not a car in sight. Due to the fact that the road was "all mine", I
“Please! Don’t do this!” the girl screamed. She held her arms up in defense against the malevolent figure with a crown of thorns placed on its head and a blood-stained, white trench coat that enclosed her body.
The Pulitzer Prize winning writer N. Scott Momaday has become known as a very distinctive writer who depicts the stories of the Native American life in almost poetic ways. He does an excellent job of transporting the reader from the black and white pages of a book, to a world where every detail is pointed out and every emotion felt when reading one of Momaday’s books or other writings. This style of writing that Momaday uses is very evident in his work “The Way to Rainy Mountain,” and made even more apparent by reading a review of the book House Made of Dawn found on a web site run by HarperCollins Publishers.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
As the sun slowly settled, darkness began to overcome the Earth. Sickness—had come. The sickness slowly but readily crept into each home. It was the Midnight Theft. The destructive plague stole during midnight—it stole lives. Deep in the heart of Tukenasville, people were dying, and the whole country was beginning to perish. The flowers withered as they bloomed. The mountain peaks crumbled under steer weight. Animals fled to holes to live out the final moments of their life. People were distraught, and chaos was invading every planet in the macrocosm. People called me Nikolaou Gonfalon. I was the last of the Warriors of Phos. Long ago, the Sisters of Moiré ordained my doomed fate. I tried to bargain with them to change it, but in the end, I captured them and locked them up in a repository on a cliff. I was to lead the expedition to find the cure for the Midnight Theft. That, however, was not the reason why I would go on this journey. My best friend, Tolem, was dying of a rare illness called Takigifeay. It was causing the slow built up of lactic acid on his bones. I knew that death would come to him soon. Legend spoke about a necklace that can bring life to anyone or thing. It was said to have been belonged to an Oceanian, one of the water people. The Lost Jade Necklace of Serenity was what it was called, and it could bring healing to the Earth. Nonetheless, it could be the obliteration of mankind, also. I began to pack since my journey was to start at that moment.