Post by Ziggy on Dec 21, 2003 13:04:09 GMT -5
This one is a short short story. So impatient people rejoice!
The night was dark and misty. A near full moon glinted in the skies above, surrounded by stars sprinkled seemingly random across the sky. The alley was shadowed and quiet and gave off a frightening and electric-alert feeling in almost anyone passing through. A cloud passed over the moon. Three men materialized out of the mist. As silent as phantoms they crept around, watchful and dangerous.
“Quiet!” one man said his voice barely a whisper and showing obvious concern. “He’ll be here any moment.” The men nodded and slowly moved to their positions and disappeared. Good the one man thought, they are like ghosts… Renek will not know what hit him! Everything was silent again. Keeping his eyes and ears open he looked at the end of the alley. There standing in the darkness, it could have been some mist that came together and looked to be in the form of a man but they knew better. They knew of his abilities. The misty shadow seemed to walk down the alley, towards them. One man held his breath while the other two, with trembling hands, each drew a thin, throwing dagger.
First, a small whistle in the air, then a clang of metal. There standing in the mist was that same shadow, but this time there was a shadowed sword in its misty hand. On the ground by its feet was a dagger. The very same dagger that had been in one mans hand a second ago. A second whistle in the air from a panicked hand and the second dagger flew by and landed in the dark somewhere behind the misty figure. The three men emerged from the shadows, swords drawn with confidence that only came from strength of numbers. As they approached the misty figure became a real man, of flesh and blood and bone and not of mist and shadow.
The first man faced his enemy and tried to put a mask so as not to show fear. But when he saw those gray eyes pierce his mask and reduce him to a dead man, he panicked. In his desperation he lunged. Suddenly he stopped. Looking down he notices a dagger in his chest and blood streaming down from it. He thinks, But where is the pain?. He looked up again and one of his men dies from a slash to the throat. The last man turned to run. He got as far as 5 yards before an arrow materialized in his back and he fell in a heap. The killer walks over and says one thing, “I am sorry that you had to follow orders, I hate to see three good lives wasted.” With that he retrieved his arrow and dagger. Suddenly he was that misty shadow he was before, walking down the alley. Darkness flooded the wounded mans vision and he fell face down on the ground. It began to rain…
The night was dark and misty. A near full moon glinted in the skies above, surrounded by stars sprinkled seemingly random across the sky. The alley was shadowed and quiet and gave off a frightening and electric-alert feeling in almost anyone passing through. A cloud passed over the moon. Three men materialized out of the mist. As silent as phantoms they crept around, watchful and dangerous.
“Quiet!” one man said his voice barely a whisper and showing obvious concern. “He’ll be here any moment.” The men nodded and slowly moved to their positions and disappeared. Good the one man thought, they are like ghosts… Renek will not know what hit him! Everything was silent again. Keeping his eyes and ears open he looked at the end of the alley. There standing in the darkness, it could have been some mist that came together and looked to be in the form of a man but they knew better. They knew of his abilities. The misty shadow seemed to walk down the alley, towards them. One man held his breath while the other two, with trembling hands, each drew a thin, throwing dagger.
First, a small whistle in the air, then a clang of metal. There standing in the mist was that same shadow, but this time there was a shadowed sword in its misty hand. On the ground by its feet was a dagger. The very same dagger that had been in one mans hand a second ago. A second whistle in the air from a panicked hand and the second dagger flew by and landed in the dark somewhere behind the misty figure. The three men emerged from the shadows, swords drawn with confidence that only came from strength of numbers. As they approached the misty figure became a real man, of flesh and blood and bone and not of mist and shadow.
The first man faced his enemy and tried to put a mask so as not to show fear. But when he saw those gray eyes pierce his mask and reduce him to a dead man, he panicked. In his desperation he lunged. Suddenly he stopped. Looking down he notices a dagger in his chest and blood streaming down from it. He thinks, But where is the pain?. He looked up again and one of his men dies from a slash to the throat. The last man turned to run. He got as far as 5 yards before an arrow materialized in his back and he fell in a heap. The killer walks over and says one thing, “I am sorry that you had to follow orders, I hate to see three good lives wasted.” With that he retrieved his arrow and dagger. Suddenly he was that misty shadow he was before, walking down the alley. Darkness flooded the wounded mans vision and he fell face down on the ground. It began to rain…
