Forums

Shorts, Fragments, and Verse

Quick find code: 49-50-273-63704077

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Commentary: Okay, so to make a long story short, I fought in a battle during summer 2012. Not a battle with guns or soldiers or anything, but a battle against myself. One part of me wanted to go one way, and the other part of me wished to go the other. In the end, I think the better of my halves won out. This story, however, was started during the summer at the behest of some of my fellow writers here, and it depicts (on a somewhat dramatized scale) the battle. This is just the beginning of the story, so feedback and comments would always be appreciated so I can improve on the rest of it. If all goes well, I will post the rest of it in its own thread. (And before anyone asks, the bit about a very important and beloved lady dying is completely fictitious. It didn't happen over the summer, and hopefully won't for another few decades).

---

City of Mercy (Sneak Peek)

Prologue

There she was again. It was that same woman as before. Funny, she always appeared the same way. Through the swirling mists, he could barely discern her black silk dress. What little light there was glinted off of the pearls that adorned the sleeves and collar of the dark garment. Her raven hair that elegantly flowed down from her scalp in long locks was the same shade as the dress. What stood out the most, however, was her eyes. The inviting, blithe green orbs seemed to pierce the mists and the soul of the man who stood opposite her with equal ease.

He was clad in a white buttoned shirt and jet black pants. He was clearly overjoyed to see the woman, and the two shared a loving embrace. They began to converse about the usual things in life: she asked him what college had been like, how his business was going, and what his future plans were. It was if they were old friends of some sort. They were truly happy.

12-Jul-2012 15:39:09 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:10:56 by Yam42

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The swirling white mists quickly dissipated as a burst of light flooded the darkness, revealing their surroundings: a large room with oak walls and an elegant jade and indigo carpet on the floor. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling, and a piano was being played in the corner. Groups of handsomely dressed men and women stood and conversed throughout the room. The woman merely made a joke and chuckled, raising a fair-skinned hand to her mouth. Nothing could destroy the pleasure she had from seeing the man. The man, however, had blanched to become the color of the mists in his horror. He knew what would happen next. He always did.

The noise of a gunshot pierced the air like the bullet that simultaneously pierced the chest of the woman, just like the same thousands of other noises and the same thousands of other bullets. The man yelled and caught the woman as she collapsed. He cried as he did thousands of other times. She smiled weakly and attempted to comfort him, but he knew what was coming.

Suddenly, a cloud of darkness began to collect itself at their side, as it did thousands of other times. The man began to assail the darkness with his words, his thoughts, his hatred. The billowing cloud began to take the shape of a person. Slowly, the outline of a man became visible. The transition complete, a pale man dressed in a black suit stood nearby holding a scythe.

The man gently lowered the lady to the floor before striking at the specter with his crimson-soaked fists. It wouldn't work. It never did. The pale man shoved him roughly to the side as he strode over to where the woman lay. As the other man slammed into the floor, he watch in horror as the specter latched onto the woman with a pallid, rimy hand.

The man laid on the floor, paralyzed as he had been so many times before. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the pale man lifted the scythe. It began it's downward descent towards the woman. The man yelled and screamed–

12-Jul-2012 15:39:17 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:02:42 by Yam42

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
–As he sat bolt upright in bed. Beads of sweat dripped off his face as he slowed his breathing. He turned and looked out of the massive picture window that extended from wall to wall in his bedroom. Through the curtains, he could see that it was still dark outside. He took a glance at the clock on the nightstand: 3:02 AM. The night was barely half-over.

Ezekiel Dawes sighed as he climbed out of bed and crossed the lacquered wooden floor to his closet. As he opened the door, he could just barely see the black satin dress studded with pearls. He took it out of the closet and held it before him, staring at it through the darkness in hopes that his eyes might pierce the past just as the lady's eyes pierced the mist.

The lady. His mother. The woman he never knew.

Ezekiel gingerly returned the dress to the closet. He sighed and slumped down on his bed. He had never met his mother. He had never even seen a photograph of her. The woman in his dream was simply how he pictured his mother to be. He recalled the day he turned eighteen: he was called into his mother's former law firm, where they disclosed to him that he had inherited two objects, one being his mother's dress, the other being a collected bank dividend of nearly five million dollars. After his troubled life in foster care, it was a fresh start. It was the greatest gift his mother could ever give him.

Ezekiel laid back down on his bed, hoping he could dodge another round of nightmares. His mind began to slow and lazily drifted from thought to thought. As he slipped back into another round of sleep, some unseen force pulled his mind elsewhere with a powerful roar–

12-Jul-2012 15:39:24 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:03:30 by Yam42

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
–Of the vehicles that had just come tearing down the street. Throngs of people lined the sidewalk up and down Crown Street. It was race day in Victoria City, and the Indy Car drivers were giving it their best. Ezekiel Dawes stood on the sidewalk, watching the cars with intrigued eyes and a contented heart. He really didn't care which car would win; he just enjoyed the clamor and sport of it all.

Another group of cars came roaring past, causing a small child seated on her father's shoulders to cry. In his haste to leave the area, the man passed directly in front of Ezekiel, obscuring his field of view just as two more cars passed by. Disgruntled, Ezekiel managed to catch a glimpse of one of the cars' number before it turned the corner. Twenty-two. Last place. The lead pack would soon be passing on its next lap.

The unmistakeable sounds of approaching cars caused the crowd to tense in eager anticipation of who would be in first place this lap. Suddenly, gunshots sounded from each side of the street. As everyone dived for cover, Ezekiel managed to glimpse two groups of men standing opposite each other. One on the other side of the street was hit by a bullet and sank to his knees, his shirt already becoming soaked. The shots continued as the vehicles' roar grew louder. The groups began to flee, but one of the men on Ezekiel's side of the street decided to press the advantage. He turned to follow the men from the other group, allowing the bystanders to see crown tattoo on his arm. He was a member of the Victoria City Kings.

*Apparently,* Ezekiel thought to himself as he crouched behind a phone booth, *a petty gang dispute is a perfect reason to endanger innocent lives.*

The 'King continued his deadly fusillade, shooting one of his fleeing opponents in the head. Police began to run down the sidewalk, weapons drawn. The man glimpsed them from the corner of his eye. He smirked. Just as the cars were almost passed, he stepped out in front of the lead car.

12-Jul-2012 15:39:29 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:08:51 by Yam42

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The driver of the lead car, number forty-five, attempted to avoid hitting the 'King, slamming on his brakes. Unfortunately for him, he failed. Unfortunately for a group of bystanders, he also spun out of control.

The car in third, number twenty, slowed down; however, it, too, was going too fast to stop so suddenly. It slid to the left and sideswiped the car in second, number sixty-four. Number twenty rolled on its side down the street before stopping in a smoking heap. It was bad, but not so bad that the driver had no chance of surviving. The driver of number sixty-four was not so lucky. After the collision, his car spun and drove onto the plaza to the left. The outer shell of the car flew off in chunks as it hit a low statue, causing it to flip end over end. The chassis–or rather, what was left of it–flipped one more time before sailing into the cold, murky waters of the Chesapeake Bay. The driver had no hope.

“Aw, crap,” Ezekiel heard one of the officers say. The man turned to one of his associates. “Get me Captain Davis here immediately. I want the Fire Department, a whole fleet of ambulances, the boys from the lab, and for heaven's sake, get me more officers!”

“Right away, sir,” another man responded. “Anything else?”

There was a momentary pause as the first officer thought. “Yeah, a hose,” he finally said, his voice hollow and devoid of emotion.

Ezekiel Dawes knew he shouldn't look out from his hiding place, but he peeked around the corner of the phone booth anyway. He saw-

-The white ceiling of his bedroom. He had been having another one of his recurring nightmares. Sighing, he looked at the clock: 5:52 AM. With another long sigh, he arose from bed and prepared himself for the day.

12-Jul-2012 15:39:36 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:08:31 by Yam42

Yam42

Yam42

Posts: 1,134 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
At exactly seven o'clock sharp, Ezekiel was handsomely dressed in a white buttoned shirt and black pants. He decided to eat his breakfast in his apartment's living room this morning. As he sat down to ravenously devour his bacon and eggs, he took a look around. Another picture window composed two of the walls to this room as well. A seventy-two inch flat-screen television sat on a thick, black wooden stand near one of the windows. A gold and red carpet covered the floor, while a set of matching couch and chairs ensconced a black coffee table. On the wall, a few elegant tapestries hung near the three bookshelves.

In spite of himself, Ezekiel couldn't help but smile at the sight of his material success. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. He was wearing his tie, so it couldn't be that. Was it . . . no. He remembered with a satisfied grin: the morning newspaper was sitting on the floor outside his door. Quickly retrieving it, he read the headline:

FIVE DEAD AFTER VICTORIA CITY KINGS ROB BANK

Ezekiel sighed and walked to the window, looking out at his city. Things weren't this bad in the past, when his mother was shot and killed by a lackey in the employ of a crime lord masquerading as a successful businessman. Ezekiel had been only two years old when his father, fearing that he might be exposed by his ex, ordered Ezekiel's mother killed.

Ezekiel sighed and walked to the door, retrieving his keys. Not desiring to read more of the same daily violence, he tossed the newspaper to the side, sending it to its permanent home in the trashcan. Heavy-hearted, he began the five blocks that composed his daily walk to work.

(END OF PREVIEW).

12-Jul-2012 15:39:41 - Last edited on 23-Jan-2013 03:06:16 by Yam42

Quick find code: 49-50-273-63704077 Back to Top