Well, I've been working on a story for about 6 months now. I feel that I need some place to encourage me to keep on going. *ducks incoming firebots*
So, this is the first chapter that I've written on this short story Deathrise.
His eyes flickered towards the window. A lone figure was standing on the rooftop, wearing full black. In his hands, he held…an AK-47? The man turned, and saw me looking at him. Raising his gun, he took aim...
“DUCK AND COVER!” A voice that was not his broke the silence. At this, everybody screamed and ran around like turkeys on Thanksgiving. Aaron dove for the floor, just as a bullet zinged by his head.
At that moment, another stranger stepped through the doorway. Hitching his rifle on his shoulder, he rumbled in a deep voice: “Listen up, sissies. There’s no need to panic.” Regardless of that, the chaos continued. He sighed, and pulled out his pistol and fired three shots. The class
immediately calmed down.
“Heh, this was easier than I thought.” He plopped down on Mr. Skylo’s chair. “Here’s the deal. You tykes hand over your money and valuables,” At this, he grinned. “Or, you all get killed off one-by-one” He fired his pistol with each syllable. “Now line up.” A line of students slowly walked out of their seats. Trembling, they dropped off their items onto the desk like piles of homework. The man stood up and prodded one of the items, and coolly raised his gun and shot in the general direction of the owner. She keeled over in shock. “That’s not valuable, now is it?” She responded by dumping her bracelet on the desk, and fainted.
Aaron watched this happen, and, since he didn’t hear anyone screaming in the other classes, that they must be held captive, or...
They could be dead.
Looking around nervously, he took his cell phone out of his pocket, and
dialed 911 under his desk.
“Operator, can I help you?”
Aaron stammered, “Um, yeah. I’d like to…to report an invasion of the school
High Charity by several um…armed hostiles.” The phone was silent for a few moments, and a gruff voice took over.
“Where is High Charity located, son?”
“3269, St. John Avenue.”
“How many gunmen do you see?"
Aaron looked around. He saw four gunmen waving rifles and smoking.
“In one classroom? Around four."
Silence. Then…
“Police will be there shortly. Hang on tight, and whatever you do, don’t let
them catch you with your phone!”
A dial tone went off in the speaker, and Aaron knew that the chief had
answered, and hung up.
He looked up to see a man pointing a pistol right at his face. “Empty your
pockets.”
“What!?”
“Empty your pockets, or take a face-full of lead.”
“I gave you all of my valuables!”
The man cocked his pistol. “Your loss.”
Aaron paled, and proceeded to empty all of his pockets. A metal puzzle hit
the floor. A pencil clattered on the desk. And, filled with dread, he hoisted his cell phone by the chain, and put it on the desk.
The man walked over, and smashed the phone to plastic shards with the butt of his pistol. Then, he looked up at Aaron. “Did you tell them anything?”
Aaron muttered, “No…”
The man hefted his pistol. “Too bad.”
A silence descended upon the room. No one spoke, not even the leader,
who was busy watching his goons dump all of the items into a duffel bag.
Both teenager and man stared at each other, waiting for them to make a move.
The man’s hand twitched.
Aaron made to jump, but the gunman was too quick. Raising his pistol, he
fired two shots. One narrowly missed Aaron’s head; the other went straight through his right lung.
Aaron landed with a thump on the floor. He looked down and saw a blood
rose bleeding on his chest. His knees gave way, and he fell.
He never felt the ground.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Harry looked at the scene unfold. Aaron was shot, and as he fell, he gave a
sad smile at the crowd, one that said: “Did it have to end this way?"
Movements near the door. Harry looked out of the corner of his eye. A man
holding a black pistol and a badge was motioning towards him, telling him to stay quiet. Harry quickly looked away.
With a blam, the door flew open. SWAT members rushed through the doors, apprehending the criminals. The police chief walked over to the body on the floor. He motioned for a medic to check. While the medic busied herself, he sighed and asked Harry. “Was this the young man who called 911?” Harry nodded. After a quick look at the medic, he took off his hat, and sighed
again.
“You’ve lost a great hero today, class. He’s dead.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Aaron woke in a dark red room. He looked around, and peered at the
opposite side. An old man, hair bleached with white, was smiling warmly at him. Aaron, uncertain that his mouth would work, looked around the room.
The old man spoke. “Your mouth should work fine.”
Aaron, blushing in embarrassment, asked the old man: “Where am I?”
“I’ve spent plenty of years to figure that out. But, I believe that this is the threshold…” He paused for dramatic effect. “The threshold between life and death.”
“And what fate have you brought upon yourself to get here?”
“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I?”
Aaron hesitated, and spoke: “I got here, I guess, because I got shot trying to save my classmates from a horrible fate.”
The old man grinned. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Of what?”
“I knew you’d come someday. You see…I am you.”
Aaron gaped in amazement, shocked. Looking closely, he could still see streaks of blonde through the snow-white hair, the aquamarine eyes, and the fierce confidence that emanated from the man. But along with that aura, he sensed wisdom and logic as well.
“Of course, you have your own choice to make. Should you choose to go on; the door on your right will lead you to the Judgment Room.” Aaron looked, and stared at the black wooden door. “Should you choose to return to real life however…the door on your left will take you back to the real world, but not without severe consequences. The world may have changed greatly since you have left.” The old man smiled sadly. “That is what has kept me here in this very room for as long as I can remember. But, as they
say: Don’t linger in the past.”
Aaron thought for a moment, and asked the old man. “How do you know all this?"
“I’ve seen people pass through here twice, or more. I asked some questions…”
Aaron looked at the frosted glass door to his left, and the black door to his right. He sighed. I have too much to live for, at the age of thirteen. Going to the Judgment Room this point in life, I must certainly end up in purgatory. He looked around for a few minutes. That is, if there IS purgatory.Aaron took a deep breath, and without releasing it, he reached for the frosted glass door, and pushed. It didn’t budge.
Aaron whirled around and glared at his older self. The old man sighed, and said:"It opens the other way." Aaron flushed briefly, and pulled.
So, this is the first chapter that I've written on this short story Deathrise.
Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his chair, while Mr. Skylo taught history to the class. Today was a day too good to be true. The essay due today was moved to next week due too the timely absence of his language teacher, and the choir practice was beautiful. But he had gone through these days before. Something has to go wrong…
His eyes flickered towards the window. A lone figure was standing on the rooftop, wearing full black. In his hands, he held…an AK-47? The man turned, and saw me looking at him. Raising his gun, he took aim...
“DUCK AND COVER!” A voice that was not his broke the silence. At this, everybody screamed and ran around like turkeys on Thanksgiving. Aaron dove for the floor, just as a bullet zinged by his head.
At that moment, another stranger stepped through the doorway. Hitching his rifle on his shoulder, he rumbled in a deep voice: “Listen up, sissies. There’s no need to panic.” Regardless of that, the chaos continued. He sighed, and pulled out his pistol and fired three shots. The class
immediately calmed down.
“Heh, this was easier than I thought.” He plopped down on Mr. Skylo’s chair. “Here’s the deal. You tykes hand over your money and valuables,” At this, he grinned. “Or, you all get killed off one-by-one” He fired his pistol with each syllable. “Now line up.” A line of students slowly walked out of their seats. Trembling, they dropped off their items onto the desk like piles of homework. The man stood up and prodded one of the items, and coolly raised his gun and shot in the general direction of the owner. She keeled over in shock. “That’s not valuable, now is it?” She responded by dumping her bracelet on the desk, and fainted.
Aaron watched this happen, and, since he didn’t hear anyone screaming in the other classes, that they must be held captive, or...
They could be dead.
Looking around nervously, he took his cell phone out of his pocket, and
dialed 911 under his desk.
“Operator, can I help you?”
Aaron stammered, “Um, yeah. I’d like to…to report an invasion of the school
High Charity by several um…armed hostiles.” The phone was silent for a few moments, and a gruff voice took over.
“Where is High Charity located, son?”
“3269, St. John Avenue.”
“How many gunmen do you see?"
Aaron looked around. He saw four gunmen waving rifles and smoking.
“In one classroom? Around four."
Silence. Then…
“Police will be there shortly. Hang on tight, and whatever you do, don’t let
them catch you with your phone!”
A dial tone went off in the speaker, and Aaron knew that the chief had
answered, and hung up.
He looked up to see a man pointing a pistol right at his face. “Empty your
pockets.”
“What!?”
“Empty your pockets, or take a face-full of lead.”
“I gave you all of my valuables!”
The man cocked his pistol. “Your loss.”
Aaron paled, and proceeded to empty all of his pockets. A metal puzzle hit
the floor. A pencil clattered on the desk. And, filled with dread, he hoisted his cell phone by the chain, and put it on the desk.
The man walked over, and smashed the phone to plastic shards with the butt of his pistol. Then, he looked up at Aaron. “Did you tell them anything?”
Aaron muttered, “No…”
The man hefted his pistol. “Too bad.”
A silence descended upon the room. No one spoke, not even the leader,
who was busy watching his goons dump all of the items into a duffel bag.
Both teenager and man stared at each other, waiting for them to make a move.
The man’s hand twitched.
Aaron made to jump, but the gunman was too quick. Raising his pistol, he
fired two shots. One narrowly missed Aaron’s head; the other went straight through his right lung.
Aaron landed with a thump on the floor. He looked down and saw a blood
rose bleeding on his chest. His knees gave way, and he fell.
He never felt the ground.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Harry looked at the scene unfold. Aaron was shot, and as he fell, he gave a
sad smile at the crowd, one that said: “Did it have to end this way?"
Movements near the door. Harry looked out of the corner of his eye. A man
holding a black pistol and a badge was motioning towards him, telling him to stay quiet. Harry quickly looked away.
With a blam, the door flew open. SWAT members rushed through the doors, apprehending the criminals. The police chief walked over to the body on the floor. He motioned for a medic to check. While the medic busied herself, he sighed and asked Harry. “Was this the young man who called 911?” Harry nodded. After a quick look at the medic, he took off his hat, and sighed
again.
“You’ve lost a great hero today, class. He’s dead.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Aaron woke in a dark red room. He looked around, and peered at the
opposite side. An old man, hair bleached with white, was smiling warmly at him. Aaron, uncertain that his mouth would work, looked around the room.
The old man spoke. “Your mouth should work fine.”
Aaron, blushing in embarrassment, asked the old man: “Where am I?”
“I’ve spent plenty of years to figure that out. But, I believe that this is the threshold…” He paused for dramatic effect. “The threshold between life and death.”
“And what fate have you brought upon yourself to get here?”
“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I?”
Aaron hesitated, and spoke: “I got here, I guess, because I got shot trying to save my classmates from a horrible fate.”
The old man grinned. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Of what?”
“I knew you’d come someday. You see…I am you.”
Aaron gaped in amazement, shocked. Looking closely, he could still see streaks of blonde through the snow-white hair, the aquamarine eyes, and the fierce confidence that emanated from the man. But along with that aura, he sensed wisdom and logic as well.
“Of course, you have your own choice to make. Should you choose to go on; the door on your right will lead you to the Judgment Room.” Aaron looked, and stared at the black wooden door. “Should you choose to return to real life however…the door on your left will take you back to the real world, but not without severe consequences. The world may have changed greatly since you have left.” The old man smiled sadly. “That is what has kept me here in this very room for as long as I can remember. But, as they
say: Don’t linger in the past.”
Aaron thought for a moment, and asked the old man. “How do you know all this?"
“I’ve seen people pass through here twice, or more. I asked some questions…”
Aaron looked at the frosted glass door to his left, and the black door to his right. He sighed. I have too much to live for, at the age of thirteen. Going to the Judgment Room this point in life, I must certainly end up in purgatory. He looked around for a few minutes. That is, if there IS purgatory.Aaron took a deep breath, and without releasing it, he reached for the frosted glass door, and pushed. It didn’t budge.
Aaron whirled around and glared at his older self. The old man sighed, and said:"It opens the other way." Aaron flushed briefly, and pulled.
