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The Garden
Dumping ground for all my the things I'm proud of having recieved or made
Heartbreaker
Sitting placidly on a metal frame chair outside a nondescript coffee cafe, a fog-haired young man sat in pinstripe blue slacks with a matching waistcoat and red tie adorning the front of his button up shirt. With one knee crossed over the other, he held a newspaper stiff and upright in front of him, pale green eyes scanning the gray lines through his silvery bangs with little more expression than that of a statue or painting. Half-lidded, his gaze drifted off the black-and-white page in front of him to a pair of young lovers holding hands at the small table next to him. They exchanged small smiles and affectionate nudges as they enjoyed their lattes and watched passers by from their seat at the outdoor table. Suddenly, from the intersection a few feet away, two cars cross bumpers and traffic comes to a halt.

All attention on the street comes to the drivers as both men explode out of the driver's seats and storm angrily at each other, shouting vulgarity and rage into the counter-part's face. The lovers still sit holding hands but have become distracted by the commotion in the street yards away. The silent young man crosses his glance from the furious drivers back to the couple at the table for a moment before re-stiffening his paper and returning his gaze to it. As he did so, the girl and boy seemed to lose interest and their hands slid from one another to cup their lattes and sip in nonchalance, ignoring each others presence as though they were complete strangers.

From out in the street, however, the shouting match between the drivers had gone quiet.The two men, moments earlier at each other's throat, were now staring longingly into one another's eyes with amorous intent. Reaching up with one hand, the first driver ran his fingertips along the second driver's cheek with a smile. Received warmly, the second driver did the same and both stepped in close to one another to kiss with a passionate embrace. This strange turn of events was an incredible oddity for all those standing witness to it, a crowd of onlookers baffled and suspicious.

Folding the top half of his newspaper over, the pinstripe stoic closed it in a second fold before tucking it under his arm and picking up his coat from the back of the chair. Standing up straight with a vantage that cast sight across the entire crowd from his tall frame, he hung his coat over his shoulder by a finger while sweeping his eyes across the throng of gawkers. In a wave, the confusion, disbelief, disgust, and fascination of each member of the crowd evaporated to nothing; leaving the mob devoid of feeling and listing precariously back and forth as if trying to find purpose through direction, bumping in to one another like a pack of disillusioned marionettes suddenly brought to life. Putting down a handful of change for the paper on the tabletop, the slate-maned stranger wove his way through the fringe of the crowd standing in the sidewalk and, despite his height, simply blended in and became just another shape bobbing along in the river of faces of the busy city streets.

-skip skip skip-

As the door closed, the whirring sound of chopper blades cut through the far off sirens and rancor of subsiding mobs.Floodlights poured in through the dust caked windows moments before muffled voices called out from megaphones. Glass shattered and men clad in black tactical gear rappelled in through the broken portals. Doors burst open and red laser sights glowed through the wafting dust and fog, all pointing into the chest of the motionless Henry. Instantly surrounded my gasmask-clad men, a jar-headed officer in a green uniform walked calmly through the ranks towards him.
"That was quite a show you put on today" he said.
"I was hindered" Henry replied
"We saw, if it wasn't for that vicious little mutant we might never have found you. It was just happy coincidence we came across your unique abilities." the officer continue smugly.
"Happy for whom. You seem rather content, but what about me." Henry probed
"I'm not sure how you feel has any baring on this situation." gesturing into the air, men wearing psychic resistant helmets and wielding restraints came through the ranks and stood on either side of Henry. As they opened the shackles, Henry closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath.

(POV change)

From outside the warehouse, the choppers had continued to circle, like vultures over a fresh kill. Gunfire erupted and screams of rage, terror, and excitement from inside the warehouse. Flashes and smoke poured out the windows. The rapid pops and chatter of automatic fire rattled on until it had slowed to a few occasional snaps and ricochets.

(POV return)

From inside, the sound of choppers colliding with each other drowned out the dying moans of those left bleeding on the concrete floor. Getting up from the floor, shrugging off a dead body that had fallen on him. He dropped the M4 he had procured, muzzle still smoking. The only man left alive was the Officer who had been cowering, using the bullet riddled body of one of the restraint troops as a shield. Walking over to his blood covered and fear drenched figure, Henry knelt down on his haunches, hands hanging off his knees. "Make me a better offer..." Henry said, coldly. The officer, voice quivering in terror, stammered "A-Anything!" For the first time, the smallest semblance of a smile crept to the corners of Henry's lips "That's more like it...'






User Comments: [1] [add]
[`~Ace~`]
Community Member
avatar
commentCommented on: Mon Aug 31, 2009 @ 06:40am
I love these stories you write Con, I would love to read more...
Amazing writer, keep it up. ^ ^


User Comments: [1] [add]
 
 
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