Status: compete ... maybe
Panic Stricken
Chapter one - forgive me
Panic stricken
The shadows spoke. Telling truths yet spreading lies.
The figures spoke in hushed but urgent tones. The other was panicking, barely able to contain himself. A body lay at their feet. Intertwined with the gaps between the cobbles, the red liquid flowed. Further and further away from the carrier which originally held it. The first watched it, fascinated by how willingly it fled from the scene.
“We have to go,” his eyes jumping, searching the shadows. “The cops -”
“Forget the cops. This is ground-breaking,” he turned, grabbed the other by the shoulders with a force almost shattering. “Think of the possibilities.” His gaze re-found the escaping life force. Without looking at the now shaking assistant, he crouched near the body and removed a small clear glass jar from one of the many pockets his jacket held. And placed it near the victim’s still pulsing throat, collecting a few of the vital drops.
He looked down at the psycho near his feet. “Hurry up, please.”
“Calm down.” He slowly raised, replacing the jar back to its designated pocket. He twirled back round to him, his coat fluttering due to the motion. “Got it,” a childlike smile formed on his thin lips.
Sirens sounded from within the fog. The first reached for the other’s arm. Run.
The pair ran for two minutes. Weaving through alleys till the first stopped half way through one. Waiting for the other to catch up, he looked slightly over his shoulder when he heard uneven breaths. “Control your breathing” the first murmured, before casually strolling out into a busy high street.
He disappeared from the other’s sight, almost instantly, within the crowds. He resisted the urge to sigh. Then he himself started to get lost among the sea of people. There were too many nameless faces. Most unaware of a little thing called personal space. The other was watching them with guarded suspicion. They were yet to know of the corpse lying just a few streets away. What would they think? Would they be shocked? Horrified? Unbothered?
The crowds have thinned out near here. The other seems more relaxed as he walks up to number 31 Park Avenue. Okay. Okay. He knocked twice upon the wooden door. Twelve seconds past. A further ten till it opened. Revealing the same man from the scene.
“About time.”
“I got here, be happy ‘bout that”. Now that he was no longer consumed with anxiety, he was annoyed. Annoyed that he was dragged into this insanity. He barged past the man, in through the doorway, to the living-room. Then he collapsed onto one of the chairs.
“You alright?” the other rolled his head to face the first. “Hmm you seem on edge -”
“Of course I’m on edge!” he lunged at the first, till he was right at his face. “I just saw some random lassie murdered and we just stood there. We could’ve -“
“No we couldn’t have. You know we needed her blood. It’s the only way to prove -”
“That’s all you care about.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She died right in front of us.” Sighing, he lowered his head. Muttering “we could’ve, we could’ve…”
The first put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “Look… if this works we’ll find her killer. I promise”.
The shadows spoke. Telling truths yet spreading lies.
The figures spoke in hushed but urgent tones. The other was panicking, barely able to contain himself. A body lay at their feet. Intertwined with the gaps between the cobbles, the red liquid flowed. Further and further away from the carrier which originally held it. The first watched it, fascinated by how willingly it fled from the scene.
“We have to go,” his eyes jumping, searching the shadows. “The cops -”
“Forget the cops. This is ground-breaking,” he turned, grabbed the other by the shoulders with a force almost shattering. “Think of the possibilities.” His gaze re-found the escaping life force. Without looking at the now shaking assistant, he crouched near the body and removed a small clear glass jar from one of the many pockets his jacket held. And placed it near the victim’s still pulsing throat, collecting a few of the vital drops.
He looked down at the psycho near his feet. “Hurry up, please.”
“Calm down.” He slowly raised, replacing the jar back to its designated pocket. He twirled back round to him, his coat fluttering due to the motion. “Got it,” a childlike smile formed on his thin lips.
Sirens sounded from within the fog. The first reached for the other’s arm. Run.
The pair ran for two minutes. Weaving through alleys till the first stopped half way through one. Waiting for the other to catch up, he looked slightly over his shoulder when he heard uneven breaths. “Control your breathing” the first murmured, before casually strolling out into a busy high street.
He disappeared from the other’s sight, almost instantly, within the crowds. He resisted the urge to sigh. Then he himself started to get lost among the sea of people. There were too many nameless faces. Most unaware of a little thing called personal space. The other was watching them with guarded suspicion. They were yet to know of the corpse lying just a few streets away. What would they think? Would they be shocked? Horrified? Unbothered?
The crowds have thinned out near here. The other seems more relaxed as he walks up to number 31 Park Avenue. Okay. Okay. He knocked twice upon the wooden door. Twelve seconds past. A further ten till it opened. Revealing the same man from the scene.
“About time.”
“I got here, be happy ‘bout that”. Now that he was no longer consumed with anxiety, he was annoyed. Annoyed that he was dragged into this insanity. He barged past the man, in through the doorway, to the living-room. Then he collapsed onto one of the chairs.
“You alright?” the other rolled his head to face the first. “Hmm you seem on edge -”
“Of course I’m on edge!” he lunged at the first, till he was right at his face. “I just saw some random lassie murdered and we just stood there. We could’ve -“
“No we couldn’t have. You know we needed her blood. It’s the only way to prove -”
“That’s all you care about.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She died right in front of us.” Sighing, he lowered his head. Muttering “we could’ve, we could’ve…”
The first put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “Look… if this works we’ll find her killer. I promise”.
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