So, here’s a short story I did for this challenge hearh! Just something short, quick and designed to reassure myself I haven’t forgotten how to write past tense. (With all the present tense I’ve been doing, it honestly could be a worry). I didn’t actually plan it out or anything, just built it around this line hearh: “It was a place I passed everyday. Who would have guessed it was a trap?”
I kinda like writing stuff like this, developed from an abstracty line of text. Pretty fun stuff.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and a cold river of fear trickled down my spine. The air smelled wrong, and empty space crackled with tension. Girders which once seemed secure now acted as obstructing objects behind which anything could hide. Dust scattered the floor evenly, too evenly. Something here had changed. I felt death in the air. Someone followed.
A plastic sheet swayed gently in the breeze. My head automatically snapped towards the motion. I realized too late the error I just made. Red lights and alarm bells went off in my head as a blunt object contacted my cranium sharply. Tendrils of a black haze crept across my vision like the legs of a spider. Everything blurred, then I slipped out of consciousness.
Shapes shifted before me, dark shapes, unfocused shapes. I closed my eyes, trying to rid myself of the sensation that left me feeling like a drunken sailor. Gradually the world stopped spinning around me, and I found myself sitting on a chair, hands pinioned behind my back. The shapes I had seen were no more than the metal table in front of me and the gun on it.
Someone entered the room; a tall, spare man.
“Hello Mr. Holt.”
He picked up the gun. Removing the magazine, he showed me the lone bullet inside.
“You would recognize this wouldn’t you? The bullet you tried to assassinate me with. Ah, the ironies of life.”
I watched mechanically as he returned the cartridge to the gun and leveled the weapon. As my life flashed before my eyes, I was brought back to the moment when I was captured. It was a place I passed everyday. Who would have guessed it was a trap?
“Goodbye Mr. Holt.”
Complacency, a terrible mista–
I am honestly sorry for the dying left and right on my blog, but what could expect to come out of a line like that? In traps if you get caught, you tend to die. 😀
Oh yeah, and it’s something like 297 words.