by Pat
on Jun 21st, 2011

A Story Opener

I’ve been thinking recently that I could be doing creative things more often. So I’ve decided to start playing with creative writing, some T-Shirt designs and other little creative bits that I can fit in over a half hour period.

Today I decided to start with a story opener. All from the top of my head and knocked out in about 30 minutes. No idea if it’s any good, in fact I sincerely doubt it, but I figured it’s all right for the first in over a decade and over a lunch break :-)

Ok, enough excuses, here it is. Enjoy. Well, I say enjoy…

/Pat

Pete shivered, staring out into the darkness, fear gripping him.

By day, the view from the cliff top was stunning – the distant hills of northern France hazy on the horizon, the sun shimmering across the myriad of undulating waves and occasional carefully maintained private yachts sailing gracefully by.

This night the low cloud blocked what light the waning moon could offer, and the distance to the rippling surface below was shrouded through a light freezing fog.

The sound of the waves crashing unforgiving against the rock far below was the only sign of life. Other than that, all that Pete had was blackness and silence.

Yet it wasn’t the quiet, the lack of sight or even the biting, still cold that scared Pete. It was what lay in his left hand.

Pete stared down at it, barely able to diffentiate the silhouette of his palm from the dark below.

Not that it mattered. He didn’t need to see it. He felt it through every part of his being.

The Presence.

Weeks ago he’d laugh at the idea of something so small being able to do… so much, but now he held the cold metallic orb with a grimly fitting mixture of reverie and terror.

Staring back out to the darkness, he let out a long, shuddering sigh. He had to do this. His fuddled brain had long lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong, but of this he was certain.

He had to kill it.

Now.

He closed his eyes and threw with all his might.

As soon as it left his hand, a warmth spread through his heart. A feeling of hope not felt since… before. As the haze left his mind, he recalled the past month and all the… no, now is not the time for regret and recompense. Now is the time to make sure it’s done.

Listening intently for the distinctive splash, Pete cocked his head to on side and waited.

And waited.

There was no sound.

A cold dread appeared in the centre of his stomach and made its way through his chest.

He knew before he’d even checked what had happened to it. It had never even hit the water.

Slowly, carefully, Pete moved his left hand to his jeans pocket, and slipped inside the denim. The cold, steely object that greeted him froze his hands in place.

He fell to his knees and wept.

“God help them all.”

Pete

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