Monday 31 October 2016

Barbed Wire


Carlos was flying through the water.  His serrated skin was a metallic blue colour, with dark stripes running along his sides and back.  His eyes were like periscopes; they could see every single colour in the deeply saturated sea, regardless of lighting conditions.  His teeth were a work of art, which almost sparkled in the sapphire waters.  Every single tooth looked like it had been carved out of the purest ivory and sharpened into something vicious.  They had the power and speed of torpedoes.  Carlos might as well have been an organic submarine.  The tiniest scrap of meat fell out of the shark's jaw.  It was quickly gobbled up by a pilot fish.  Carlos was on the swim.
****
The shark tracked the scent of blood to the shallow waters before a coastline.  He was initially confused, when he saw the sea life, that had amassed there.  However, it didn't take him long to understand.  Humans were catching the marine animals for food and God knows what else.  "Catching" was an understatement.  The humans were over fishing.  How they had managed to concentrate so much life in one place was beyond Carlos.  The shark's spherical eyes rolled upwards in their sockets, as he saw a giant net falling over a school of fish, trapping them.  By now the animals which were just out of reach of the woven cage, had taken notice of the shark and were now trying to escape from the ring of predators.  Carlos ignored the swimming animals and latched onto the bottom of the net.  It was only made of rope, which meant he could easily chew through it.  The shark couldn't care less about helping the trapped fish; he was hungry and this was an easy dinner.  Carlos began to smell blood, and as he turned his upper body, he saw a red liquid slowly rise from his tail-fins.  The shark guessed that the humans must have thrown a harpoon, which had just grazed him.  Carlos knew he had outstayed his welcome.  Sensing electrical pulses in the water, the shark swam away  He'd be back though.  No human could keep him away from his prey.
****
Carlos was never given the chance to return.  Whilst fishing, the humans had seen sharks, which must have been attracted by the smell of blood.  If the animals were given the chance, then they would eat all of the fish available, which was why the hunters had to keep them away.  There were men in boats on the outreaches of the shallow waters, on the lookout for predators.  Carlos was unfortunate enough to swim right into them.  He could see a shapeless grey object, he guessed it was a boat, sitting above the water and he knew that meant trouble.  At first he thought it was a turtle or another shark, but then he realised they rarely swam in such shallow waters.  Carlos growled in a confused anger, as something tore through his outer epidermis.  The wound wasn't serious, but the shark knew that he was in danger and swam away.
****
The shark felt a series of vibrations through the water and the shapeless, grey object started moving; Carlos knew that the humans were following him.   They didn't want him near their food.  The humans were moving quickly, but they were little match for the shark.  More harpoons were launched into the water.  A few drops of blood rose to the surface of the ocean.  Red and blue danced together, before the two colours became one.  Carlos was hurt, but he would carry on swimming.  He was a tiger shark and they are hardy creatures.
****
Had the humans managed to trap him?

Had he been netted like the brainless schools of Herring he had just been hunting?

No.

He was smarter than that.  He realised his silly mistake.  Somehow the hunters had managed to overtake him and had laid a cargo net in wait. The net was only made of rope, which meant that Carlos could easily chew through it. His tail fin vigorously moved from side to side, which propelled him into the woven barrier.  With one swift bite, he tore the net to pieces and carried on swimming.  The shark looked forward and could just about see the shapeless grey object silently resting on the water's surface; it seemed to be just waiting there.  For a mysterious reason, this instilled terror into Carlos.  He was furious with himself.  He shouldn't feel fear; he was the tiger of the sea.  The humans were the true sharks; ferocious, relentless, merciless.  Carlos was growing tired of this hunting game.  He expected the boat to have returned back to shore, but it was still following him.

Why?

Was this revenge?

Was he just sport?

To avoid detection, Carlos swam down to the seabed.  He was slowly approaching the boat, when something sent ripples through the water.  Carlos thought he saw a shark, underneath the grey, shapeless object, but something was wrong.  He wasn't detecting any electrical pulses and there was something more.  The shark was slowly sinking, which was strange because sharks only sank when they were dead.  As Carlos approached the pitiful creature, he noticed it was missing its dorsal fin.  The humans must have cut it off and were now disposing of the evidence.  Carlos knew he shouldn't waste food and latched onto the shark corpse before dragging it away.  Something wrenched the beast back and shifting a four hundred kilo shark took some strength.  Carlos growled, as a metal hook buried itself in his mouth.  He desperately tried to escape, but the hook had embedded itself in the roof of his mouth.  Carlos was disgusted with himself for falling for such a pathetic human trap.  The dead shark must have been bait.  He slowly felt himself rising, until he was only half submerged in the ocean.  His gills were still underwater.  The shark began to writhe in the crystal blue water, as above him, two humans began to admire their trophy.

****

A bald headed man peered over the side of the boat and stared in awe.  "Levi, look at this monster.  We've caught a fully grown tiger shark."

Levi flicked the cigarette he had been smoking into the blue waters.  "Quit your gawking, Terry.  We need to think of a way of proving that we caught it."

"Aren't we just going to kill it and take it back? That's what Mr. Craft told us to do.  We can't anger him." Terry rubbed his eyebrow in confusion.

"Don't be an idiot.  Do you think I'm so stupid, as to anger a man like him.  We just don't have the space on our boat for a fourteen foot long shark."

Below them, Carlos was thrashing in the ocean.  "We could cut off its dorsal fin?" Terry suggested.

"I don't want to dirty my hands with shark blood.  That's disgusting.  Remove three of its teeth." Levi ordered.
"You can't be serious.  If I put my hands anywhere near its mouth, it'll bite my arm off."

"Calm down.  Its jaws are still locked into the shark we used as bait.  It can't fully close its mouth.  You can remove the teeth at the sides of its mouth.  It can't bite you from there.  I'm sure Mr. Craft will reward you greatly when he hears of your bravery.  Try and find the loosest teeth.  Sharks regularly shed their teeth.  It shouldn't be too difficult."

"I don't know Levi.  I'm not sure."

"Why are you just standing there? I gave you an order! Mr. Craft doesn't like waiting."

Terry hesitantly looked at the shark.

"Are you scared? How do I explain to Mr. Craft that we couldn't get him a trophy, because you were too much of a pathetic, little coward?" Levi knew he was being very underhand, but he also knew that his colleague was extremely weak-minded.

"Bring it within reach then.  I'll get a knife." Terry hated being called a coward and was determined to prove his friend wrong.

Levi walked up to the boat's cabin and pressed a button.  Slowly Carlos was cruelly dragged from his ocean habitat, into a toxic atmosphere, before being brought within reach of Terry who was lying in wait, holding a knife.  Very carefully he reached into Carlos' mouth and rested the weapon at the base of a tooth.  Terry nervously swallowed and began to lever away at it.  This one fell away easily, unlike the next two which took some work.  As Terry adjusted his stance, he lost his footing and sliced his arm.  "I've got the three teeth.  Let it go." Levi nodded and pressed a button, which sent Carlos plunging back into the ocean.  Afterwards, he took out his mobile phone.

"Hello, Mr Craft, sir.  We did it.  Terry removed three teeth from the tiger shark."

"Good work.  There'll be two cheques waiting for you when you return.  They'll be delivered in white envelopes."

****

With the hook still embedded in his mouth, Carlos swam away from the humans.  The shark was aware that the hook would be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life and it might affect his eating habits, but he was just grateful to escape.  Even though sharks are usually solitary animals, Carlos couldn't avoid sparing a thought for the creatures, which had been mutilated by Man.  All of them had been cruelly dissected until they had become nothing more than memories, drifting through the sky.

*Author's Notes*

I guess you could argue this is a continuation of my poem Harpoon and an extension of my environmental writings.  Not the best thing I've written.

Monday 24 October 2016

Tears of Silence

Her tears were gentle rain.  Whenever she slipped and scraped her knee, I remember her soft cries.  She was never one to scream and shout.  She never made a sound, when she was taken away.  The telephone rang, which slowly dragged me out of my thoughts.  I hoped, prayed, this was good news.

"Have you found her?" I asked, desperately.  I didn't even know who was on the other end.  It could have been the gas company for all I knew.  Fortunately, it was the police.

"I am very sorry, Mr Stokes, but we're going to have to discontinue the investigation to find your daughter.  We can't commit any more resources.  I'm sorry."

I stayed silent, as I swallowed all of my emotion.

"Paul? Is anybody there?"

I raised the receiver to my shivering lips.  "Can I come into the station, Sergeant Damos? Maybe there's something we missed?" The questions were tripping over my teeth.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line.  "Yeah ok.  I'm not sure what good it will do."

****

I was sitting opposite Mark Damos.  He was part of a group of police who had been searching for my daughter.  He was a portly and clean shaven man with curly brown hair.  He was also my best friend.  Mark had been the most dedicated to finding my daughter, but now the year long investigation was coming to an end.

The policeman shifted uncomfortably, before standing up and walking over to a filing cabinet.  "I don't know why you came here, Paul."

I shrugged.  "I was hoping I could convince you to change your mind.  Maybe there's something you've missed.  We could have another look over the evidence."

Sergeant Damos sighed.  "All of the evidence points toward Chloe being kidnapped and murdered."

"She can't be dead.  She can't be.  There has to be something else.  Chloe was taken in the middle of a busy supermarket.  What about the CCTV?" I knew that I was clutching at straws, but I couldn't, can't, give up hope.

"You saw the footage for yourself.  It's too pixelated," the policeman groaned, as he saw Paul's eyes drop, "I can't even begin to imagine how difficult this is for you.  I'm sorry, but she's gone.  You're going to have to accept that."

"Mark! How you can say that?You were there at the birth.  You heard the promise I made to Julie."

Sergeant Damos uncomfortably spread his hands.  "I wasn't allowed in the delivery room."

"Before Julie...I promised her that I would never let any harm come to Chloe.  I can't let her down now.  I can't give up on her.  She's my daughter!  There has to be something!  Can you help me? You have to be able to do something!"

"I'm so sorry mate, but it's out of my hands.  Don't put yourself through this.  Don't do this to yourself.  You should go.  I'll give you a lift home, if you want."

I thumped the desk in frustration and felt guilty when I saw Mark jump.  "I'm sorry.  It's not your fault.  It's ok.  I'll walk home"

****

As I stepped out of the police station, it started to rain.  Perhaps I should have accepted Mark's offer after all.  Too late now. I've lost my chance.  I sighed.  That wasn't the only thing I lost.  I couldn't go home.  There were too many memories.  It had been bright sunshine, before I left for the police station, which meant, of course, I had left my anorak at home.  I could feel the raindrops worming through my shaggy coat of brown hair.  I turned for the high street.  I was hoping to become lost in the busy Saturday crowd.

****

My toe crossed the border, separating the damp concrete of the high street with the floor of the supermarket.  The supermarket where Chloe had been stolen.  The supermarket where my life had been ravaged.  The super-I stamped my foot down to bring myself out of this frustrated rant.  Everybody ignored me.  This had changed.  A month ago, I had received a patronising amount of support and pity.  It didn't take them long to move on or forget.  Even the oversized poster of Chloe, which the supermarket had installed, had been replaced with an enlarged photo of a ginger teenage girl.

What am I doing here?  I asked myself.  I knew that I wasn't thinking straight.  I knew that I was dredging up old memories.  I knew that I was damaging myself.  I knew...unwittingly I had walked into the tinned food aisle.  This was where Chloe had been taken.   What am I doing here? I asked myself, again.  I picked up a can of creamed corn.  I was going to make my little girl her favourite meal.  Corn Fritters.  I remember seeing her eyes light up, as I reached for the can.  I should've never turned my back.  It only took a few seconds for my daughter to disappear out of my life.  One of the initial explanations was that Chloe had run away. I soon ruled this out though.  She was only four years old and Mark knew how much she adored me.  She would never do something like this.  I couldn't believe how little evidence the police had.  They couldn't find any witnesses or suspects.  They described it as, "disappearing off the face of the Earth, without leaving a trace."

****

A little girl ran behind me, squealing with delight.  I turned around and looked down at her.  She seemed to be the same age as Chloe.  The little girl looked so much like my daughter.  The same wide brown eyes.  The same brown pigtails.  I was almost tempted to pick her up and hug her, until I came to my senses.  Of course, it isn't Chloe, you silly fool.  Before I did anything rash, I left the supermarket.  As I stepped out of the building, I stared at the can of creamed corn I had just purchased.  I was going to make Corn Fritters tonight, in honour of Chloe.

****

As I pushed my front door open, I noticed a white envelope on the thatched mat.  I picked it up and realised that there wasn't an address.  There wasn't a stamp either.  Whoever delivered this letter knew where I lived.  I didn't have the energy to think about who sent it for the moment.  I walked over to the answering machine and instinctively checked my messages.  There was one from Mark.  As I walked through to the kitchen, I listened to the recording.  Until she vanished, me and Chloe had lived in a small flat.  Since it was just the two of us, we had never needed a big house.  There were a few beeps, before the message began.

"Hi, Paul.  I didn't call to offer my condolences.  You already know how sorry I am.  I called to tell you that the police has arranged a memorial service for Chloe in a couple of days.  I hope you can make it, but I can understand if you want to stay at home.  Do you want me to come over? I've also posted the details of Chloe's case through your letter box.  I'm not sure what good it'll do, but I thought you might be interested.  Call me back, mate." An address for the memorial service followed.  I smiled at the efforts of my friend and rang him back.  Unsurprisingly, the call went to voicemail, as well.

"Hey Mark.  Thanks for the support mate, and for sending over the details.  Yeah, I'll be there.  I appreciate the offer, but I'll just prefer to be alone.  Thanks again, mate.  I'll see you in a couple of days."

I put down the phone and opened the envelope.  Chloe's personal information had been typed up and printed out in a cold and cheerless way.  Even though I knew the details off by heart, I read through them again, anyway.

Name: Chloe Stokes

Age: Four years old and 4 months.

Date of birth: 14/01/08

Place of birth: St. George's Hospital

Appearance: (See attached photo) I shifted my attention to the photo of Chloe for her nursery school calendar.  She looked so innocently naive.  I smiled at her cute little dimple on her right cheek, before I read the rest of the report.

Siblings: None

Parents: Mother: Julie Stokes (deceased, aged 26) Father: Paul Stokes (30) Julie had died in childbirth, leaving me to bring up Chloe.

Location of disappearance: Sainsbury's Supermarket in Ilford, Redbridge.

Details of circumstance: On the twentieth of May 2012, in Sainsbury's Supermarket in Ilford highstreet, Redbridge, Chloe Stokes disappeared.  The CCTV footage has proved to be inconclusive and everybody present within the store at the relevant time, including the father, have been questioned, to little gain.  Even though some fingerprints have been gathered from the child's cuddly toy, they have also proved to be inconclusive.

Chloe took her toy dog with her everywhere.  She was always clutching him, as if her life depended on it.  When Chloe had been taken, Growlithe, this was the name that had appeared on the box, was all that had been left behind.  This was how I knew my daughter had not run away.  She would never leave behind her beloved canine.  I read the rest of the report.

After a year's investigation, an index finger with the same DNA as Chloe Stokes has been discovered. We have to assume the child has been murdered and to conserve resources, this case is to be terminated.

As I read the last word, a single teardrop fell onto the report, making the ink run down the paper, as if it were trying to escape from life.  I knew how it felt.

****

I had been lying on my sofa for hours examining four photos and writing a little speech.    I still hadn't cooked dinner.  The can of creamed corn lay by the cooker.  I had been drowning in the pity and apologies and condolences and sentiments and sympathies and sensitivities of my friends and family, who offered to come over and comfort me.  I politely declined all of them.  I still needed some time alone.  Of course, I was wondering about what happened to Chloe and where she was, as well as who took her, but the worst scenarios kept coming to mind.  I decided it would be healthier to concentrate on our happiest memories together.  Perhaps, I could speak about them at the memorial.  The photos were of Chloe, me, and of course Growlithe, on her individual birthdays.  Growing up.

****

Everybody had their eyes on me.  Why were they watching me? I wasn't even talking.  Chloe's grandfather was giving a little eulogy.  My head was pointing at the ground.  I couldn't stomach the pitying glances, that my friends and family were offering me.   After my father had finished, Sergeant Damos stood up and gave his eulogy.  Chloe used to call him 'Uncle Mark.'  Memories of my daughter were flooding my mind.  Drowning my senses.  Images of her mischievous grin  crashed down in front of my eyes.  Her innocent laughter was filling up my ears.  I was mindlessly playing with Growlithe.  I thought that I could leave him as an offering.  It would be difficult to part with him, Chloe had always said it was a boy.  In the days since my daughter had...I had slept with the toy.  I clutched him close to my chest, just as Chloe did.  Some people might have called this behaviour stupid or obsessive, but it got me through the lonely nights.  Due to my mental lapses, I only heard a few words of Mark's speech.

"A woman...brilliant...she...adorable...... was...thoughts...Paul Stokes.  Coming up, buddy?"

My head snapped up, as I realised it was my turn to speak.

"Don't worry, mate.  You'll be fine." Sergeant Damos comforted.  I smiled my gratitude, as I staggered to my feet and stumbled over to the podium.  I was so nervous.  An earthquake had sent tremors rippling throughout my body.  Hesitantly, I swallowed and looked over the crowd of thirty people.  On one side were my relatives and on the other were Julie's.  All of them were dressed in black.  Why? This wasn't her funeral.  It was her memorial.  Everyone was patiently waiting for me to speak.  Nervously, I undid my top button.  It felt like my throat had been lined with cardboard.  "I...Chloe...we." The words were tumbling out of my mouth.  A single teardrop fell onto my prompt cards.  Tears of silence.  Chloe never made any noise when she cried.  The cardboard had turned into sandpaper.  Scraping my throat.  "Chl...I'm sorry." Mark came up behind me and put a comforting arm around my shoulders.  He guided me back to my seat and signalled to the Vicar to make the final proceedings.  I took a photo out of my pocket and rested it on Growlithe.  Again, I had become lost in thought.  After the service my parents and  a few of my friends tried to console me.  As I had told him to, Mark politely swatted them away.   Instead, my parents decided to lay some flowers on Chloe's memorial stone.  Afterwards, they stood to one side and spoke to Julie's mum and dad.  Mark stayed by me, until the crowd had dispersed, which was when I asked him to leave me alone.  I knelt by Chloe's grave... no not grave.  This was not her funeral.  I laid down Growlithe, as well as a photo of me and Chloe on her fourth birthday.   Afterwards I stood up and walked off from the funeral, no, not funeral, memorial.  Oh who was I kidding? This is Chloe's funeral.  She's dead and she's never going to come back.​   I sighed and resisting the urge to look back, I carried on walking to lose myself in another crowd.

*Author's Notes*

I wrote this for a contest which was about people disappearing and I wanted to explore the effect on the people left behind.  This is an idea that I've had knocking around for a while and I've finally done something with it.

Monday 17 October 2016

Empty City

We had been ignored to freeze in a metallic hell.  There were four of us in the container.  Me, two girls and another boy.  The two girls were speaking in hushed whispers, while the boy was huddled up in a corner.  Through air holes, his grimy face was illuminated by the moonlight.  I was exploring our cage.  My fingers were slowly marching over the ribbed metalwork.  We were all complete strangers.  Within the night, we had been stolen from our dreams and transported here.  Using the distorted surface to guide me, I walked to what I hoped was the front of the container. I carried on moving, until I felt pain partying across my fingertips.  I groaned and withdrew my hand.  A hurricane of warm air stormed down from my mouth to the edge of my fingers.  One of the girls took notice of me.

"What have you done?" She asked. It sounded, as if she were addressing a four year old, who had just banged his head.

"I think I've just scraped my fingerprints off." I said, gesturing to the wall.

The girl sighed.  "It can't be that serious.  Let's take a look," for a few seconds she squinted in the darkness, "I can't see anything in this light.  Come over to the air holes." Carefully me and the girl walked over to the miniature portholes, while the other girl anxiously looked on and the other boy was still crouching in the corner.

"Let's see," the girl prompted, and I extended my hand, "what's your name?" She asked, more out of awkwardness than anything.

"Andrew Stone."

"I'm Isabella Hamilton." The girl replied.

"I'll offer to shake your hand, but you're already holding it."

The other boy suddenly stood up, which drew my attention away from the girl.  As the boy was no longer hunched over, I could see how tall he really was.  

"There's someone outside.  It sounds like they're unlocking the door." The boy replied, in a surprisingly deep and coarse voice.  Up until now, he had remained quiet and introverted.  However, in a second he had transformed into a confident leader.  What had motivated this transition remained a mystery to me.  Even though, the door was not visible in the darkness, we trusted our ears and walked in the direction of the sound of keys being throttled in a lock.  As the door opened, we expected to take sight of our captor.  Instead, we were met with open air.  Without hesitation, the other boy stepped out of our cage.  He almost disappeared from sight, as the whole area exploded in an ocean of glare.
****
As we adapted to the blinding light, we saw a lorry resting with its open eyes shooting out dazzling electricity.   Standing dominantly in front of the vehicle was a bald man.

"Who do you think he is?" The other boy asked to Isabella.

"Benjamin Lockhaven! Don't be rude. Address any questions you have to me."

Nervously, I turned around and noticed that the other girl was hanging back inside the container.

"More importantly, how do you know my name?"

"My name is Gatiss and I am part of an organisation, which has had dealings with all of your parents."

"That's an American accent.  Where are we?" I remarked.  I was getting a little jealous that Benjamin had taken control.

"We're in Chicago.  Take a look round."

We slowly walked away from the container and examined our surroundings.  Looking up, I noticed that we were in a ruined building, where the roof had been replaced with a giant hole.  The other girl looked down at her feet and she noticed that we were standing in a sea of shingle.  Benjamin took a few steps to the left, when he came to a riverside.  Isabella walked forward and within the light, I could see her racing blue eyes.  She was trying to control them, in an attempt to mask her fear.

"Why are we here?" She asked.  Gatiss walked towards the teenagers.  As he talked I could see that his front teeth were cracked.

"All of your parents have cheated us.  We'e going to punish them." He paused.  For a few seconds, the only sound we heard was the wind running over the skin of the Chicago river.

"We have created an elaborate simulation of the city of Chicago.  In all due time, all four of you shall be distributed throughout the city.  We're hoping that your parents will pay up, when they see their little babies killing each other." The American continued.

"What are you talking about?" The other girl squeaked up.  She had a very quiet and mouse like voice.

"I was just getting to that, Audrienna.  Hopefully, it won't come to that level.  We also have safety protocols in place.  You won't be in any danger.  What's going to happen is all four of you will be taken to a corner of the simulation.  I will be waiting in the middle of the city.  Whoever finds me first wins."

"Wins what?" Isabella probed.  The wind gently blew through her brunette locks.

"Your freedom.  If you're the first one to find me, then you and your parents will be released and we'll forget about any outstanding debts."

"What about the losers?" Audrienna asked.

"Can I call you Audrey? You don't need to worry about the losers.  You just have to concentrate on finding me."

I turned around despairingly and faced the riverside.  Across the surface of the water, I could see lights twinkling on skyscraper upon skyscraper.  The whole city was illuminated, like a bizarre Christmas tree made out of sand and stone.

"This simulation is massive.  It could take weeks to find you."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Andrew.  Throughout the simulation we've placed helpful hints.  The whole city is wired up with CCTV, as well, so your parents can watch over you."

Benjamin decisively stepped forward.  "Why should we do anything you want?"

"We're holding your parents hostage and they'll be punished if you disobey us.  Capisce?"

"It doesn't look like we have a choice." Benjamin replied, resignedly.

"That's a good boy.  You'll be taken to your starting positions, now.  Let the race begin."
****
Audrey had been dropped in the Northwest corner of the simulation.  During the journey, Gatiss had told her that she would be completely alone.  She had to make it to the centre of the city by herself.  Audrey had been left in the decayed area of the simulation.  Shattered blades of glass littered the floor like broken teeth.  The moonlight desaturated the area.  The girl carefully stepped through the ruined architecture.  Gatiss had given all four teenagers: maps of the simulation, torches and first aid kits.  Something ran past behind Audrey.  The wind from...whatever it was...rattled the flaking shards of metal.  The girl nervously turned around.

"Who's there? Andrew? Ben?"

Silence answered her.

Audrey's hand snapped down to her belt and withdrew a seven inch hunting knife, Gatiss had given her for protection.  The moon reflected off the serrated blade.  The girl was struggling to remain calm.  She knew that she was being followed.  She couldn't hear what it was, but she knew it was there.  A splashing of water brought the thirteen year old out of her thoughts.  Looking down, she saw that her leather boot had sunk into a puddle.  Examining the area in front of her, she noticed that the paving stones were cracked and covered in slime, which grotesquely glistened in the moonlight.  Something slammed behind her.  Audrey started to run, as fear sprinted throughout her veins.  The moonlight projected two moving shadows.  One of them was the running teenager, but what was the other? The shadow jumped in front of the girl, but it was still shrouded in darkness.

"What are you?" She asked.

It jumped again.  Audrey guessed that Gatiss had set traps within the simulation.  Something dropped out of the sky.  The girl's attacker was prowling across the ruined structures of the rotting buildings.  Audrey decided to carry on walking.  If she could only reach Gatiss, then she might be able to escape.  The American had taken her mobile phone, which completely isolated her.  Audrey had been so lost in thought, that she hadn't noticed how silent her environment had become.  Out of panic, the girl lashed out behind her, whipping the knife around.  The only thing she wounded was the quiet air.  There was a heavy thudding, as two heavy footsteps crashed down behind the girl.  Before the adolescent could react, something grabbed onto her legs and pulled her over.  The knife slipped out of her hands.  As Audrey was dragged away, her fingernails broke.
****
I thought I heard somebody screaming, but I couldn't be sure.  Examining the map, I was positive that I was getting closer to Gatiss.  The American had told me, that there were other people within the simulation, but we were not allowed to have any contact with them.  Whirring up above me was a security camera.  I didn't like the idea of being watched, so I scavenged for a heavy rock and with a well aimed throw, I obliterated the camera.  Just like the others, I had been given a knife and I was gripping it tightly in one hand.  Out of nowhere a Rottweiler charged up to me and clamped down on my leg.  Thinking quickly and rashly, with all of my strength I rammed the knife down onto the dog's head. The blade was brought down with such force, that it snapped within the animal's skull.  As the dog whimpered and dropped to the ground, I told myself that this was only self-defence.  I took out my first-aid kit and dabbed the wound with some disinfectant.  I gritted my teeth through the burning.  Afterwards, I carefully bandaged the wound. I sighed, as I realised that I had been left without a weapon.  Hopefully this wouldn't matter.  I opened the map again and determined that the fastest way to reach Gatiss was to walk around the perimeter of the simulation, to the Northwest corner where Audrey had been left.   I folded the map away and dodging a drop of stagnant water, I started to limp.
****
Something shone in the night.  I moved towards the reflecting object and realised it was a knife.  Could this have been Audrey's? I hobbled around the area, but the thirteen year old wasn't in sight.  I decided to claim the knife as my own.  Finders-keepers.  There didn't seem to be any cameras around either, so why did it feel like something was watching me?

"Andrew!" Something called out behind me.  I tried to ignore it.  If I started panicking, then I would make mistakes.  Perhaps this was what happened to Audrey.  I couldn't worry about her.  I had to protect myself.  A stone gently rocked behind me.

"Andrew!" Something whispered in front of me.  As the wind rocketed broken windows, a shard of glass free-fell through the air and shattered, as it hit the ground.

"Andrew Stone!" A shadow howled my name from the left of me.  Cautiously, I took hold of my knife.

"Andrew Stone!" The voice shouted my name, down from the glittering sky.  Unwittingly, I had walked out of the Northwest corner of the simulation, but something was still following me.

"Mr. Stone." The voice had become stereo.  I could no longer tell where it was coming from.
****
Abandoning my common sense, I began to limp away.  As my speed increased, the voice started to accelerate.  It felt like I was being circled.  I knew that I was panicking and I brought myself to a stop.  The voice kept screaming though.  It was getting louder and louder, penetrating my skull.  Something broke through the whirring noise and tapped my shoulder.  Within my blind paranoia, I whipped around and plunged my knife into the person behind me.  Blood slowly trickled out of Isabella Hamilton's mouth.  I lowered the seventeen year old to the ground and stood over her.  I briefly wondered, why my parents hadn't given in.  Paid up! Got me the hell out of here.  Before I left the girl, I closed her eyes, knowing that it wouldn't be long before she opened them again.
****
Gatiss smiled, as he watched Andrew's actions.  "Two down.  Two to go."
****
Benjamin had been left in the greener area of the city.  His parents owed the least money, so he was placed the closest to Gatiss.  This was fortunate for the blond seventeen year old.  The batteries in his torch were dying and he couldn't read the map.  If he wanted to reach Gatiss then all he had to do was stay on the right road.  At the end of the street, Benjamin thought he could see the American standing by a lorry.  He inhaled and started to walk.  The breath came out as a gasp, as Benjamin was pulled to one side.

"Andrew! How did you get here? What happened to your leg?" The seventeen year old asked.

"I only made it here, through luck." I replied.  As soon as I saw the boy, I pulled him into a side alleyway.

"Do you know where the girls are?"

"I haven't seen Isabella and I'm not sure what happened to Audrey.  I found her knife." I held up the blade, as evidence.

Benjamin's green eyes widened.  "Why is there blood on it?"

"Gatiss has set us up to fail.  There's something here in this simulation.  It could've taken Audrey."

Benjamin nervously scratched his ear.  "I did hear a girl screaming earlier.  What do we do?"

"We force Gatiss to end this simulation and free our parents."

"Can we do that?"

"You heard Gatiss.  Only one of us gets out of here.  Who knows what'll happen to the other?"

Benjamin nodded.  "You're right.  Let's move."

I smiled to myself.  I was glad that the boy's leadership qualities had taken over.  He was walking with his back to me, assuming I was following him.  He was moving quickly and I half ran, half hobbled to catch up with him.  I was careful to remain behind him, though.  As the bald American with the broken teeth came into sight, I plunged my knife between Benjamin's shoulder blades.  Without hesitation, I carried on walking towards Gatiss.  He smiled, as I approached him.

"Andrew Stone.  You're the first one here." He announced, for no particular reason.

"Where are the girls?"

"Audrey has been taken and you disposed of Isabella yourself."

I gritted my teeth.  "That was an accident."

"Unlike poor Benjamin.  You stabbed him in the back.  Quite literally."

I shook my head.  "It doesn't matter.  He'll survive."

Gatiss melodramatically raised his hand to his mouth.  "Oh, did I say you weren't in any danger? I lied.  There never were any safety protocols."

As Gatiss revealed this information, I knew that he was vulnerable.  In an act of young naivety, I attempted to punch him.  He was expecting it.  In one swift movement, he pushed my arm halfway up my back.

"Let's not do anything rash. You've won this.  You're free to leave." He released my arm and I stepped back a few paces, rubbing my elbow.

"Why didn't my parents give in and get me out of here?"

"They did, long ago, but we thought it would be more entertaining to leave the simulation running."

I spat out my hateful emotion.  I had nothing left to say.

"There's no need to be so depressed, Andrew.  You survived.  You've beaten the simulation.  You've won.  Capisce?"
****
Gatiss smiled, as he saw Andrew and his family, as well as the other parents, being escorted away from the city.  All of them had paid up in the end.  He briefly wondered what Andrew's parents would make of their murderous son, but this was none of his concern.  The simulation had been an unqualified success.  The American walked through the streets of his creation.  He knelt besides Benjamin's body and withdrew the knife.  Andrew's knife.  Audrey's knife.  Gatiss' knife.  Finders-keepers.

*Author's Notes*

This was written for a prompt of a Hunger Gamesesque scenario where a bunch of characters are in a simulation and have to kill each other.  Not the best thing I've written but I still like it.

Monday 10 October 2016

Remnants

It was raining.  No.  Not rain.  Something different.  It wasn't water falling from the sky.  It was rocks.  Jim Fox ran a hand through his chestnut hair as he tried to figure out the enigma.  Was it hail? Impossible.  The sun was a golden inferno burning down on the screaming life below. It finally occurred to the fourteen year old boy what was happening.  Meteorites.  Usually, meteors would burn up in the Earth's atmosphere, long before they were a threat to humans.  Not any more.  The planet hadn't escaped this time and as a result, everyone would suffer.  There was a variety of rumours soaring around.  Christians called it the rapture come early.  Realists called it a meteorite storm.  Fanatics said that the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter had destabilised and now the fragments of rock were cascading, as a never ending waterfall, down onto the Earth's surface.  Did it matter what the cause of this catastrophe was? Jim's brown eyes widened in a shocked fear, as rocks smashed into the planet's fragile skin, leaving broken limbs and shattered bones.  He cursed himself for standing in the middle of destruction.  Was he out of his mind? He had to run.  Jim had to find somewhere to shelter from the storm.  A sanctuary.  If anywhere like that still existed.

****

The military had been alerted to the oncoming threat, but they were too slow.  Everything had happened too quickly.  Missiles, torpedoes, projectiles were being blasted into the sky to desperately destroy the falling rocks.  Occasionally a meteorite would crumble into oblivion, but the collapsing shards still wreaked havoc on the panicking humans below.

****

The meteorite storm had begun, while Jim was in school.  A fire bell rang out, drilling a monotonous noise into the quiet afternoon.  Jim's English teacher frowned.  "A fire drill wasn't scheduled for today.  Class, move quickly and quietly to the assembly area.  Keep calm and don't panic."  Since Jim was the closest to the door, he led the way.  As he was one of the first onto the playground, which served as the assembly area, he saw the event that caused the unexpected fire bell, first hand.  As his schoolmates bled onto the tarmac, children were replaced with quivering balls of fear.  Some of the younger classes had burst into tears, as teachers desperately tried to console them and keep order.  A boy pointed up to sky, and as one, the school gasped.  The deep breath before the plunge.  A meteorite was headed straight for them.  A burning white rock powered by the Earth’s magnetic pull.  Panic gripped staff and pupil alike by the throat.  The children started running.  The head teacher desperately tried to regain control, but realised it was futile.  Escape was the most important thing.  Running was the only thing that mattered to Jim.  He didn't spare a thought for his best friend.  Anyone who got in his way, was viciously shoved to the ground.  Whether they were infant, junior, adult.  Jim paused.  Looked round.  A meteorite skidded into the concrete, sending bodies and shrapnel flying.  Jim swallowed any of his remaining courage and ran to save his own skin.  In retrospect, he sincerely regretted his actions, but he was so blindly afraid.    He knew that helping anybody else would only slow him down.  As cruel as it was, if he wanted to survive, then this was the attitude he had to adopt.

****

Journalists were screaming out the news.  The meteorite storm was causing an unprecedented number of natural disasters.  As the rocks from space, fell into the world's oceans, monstrous tidal waves sucked the coastlines of the planet into oblivion.  White hot fragments descended onto global forests.  As one, the planet smelled the scent of burning wood.  The fires weren't an isolated incident, the Amazon rainforest in South America, the Sagano Bamboo forest in Kyoto, the Daintree rainforest in Queensland, were slowly being incinerated.  It didn't take long for the flames to spread to urban life.  The winds picked up.  Before long, fire storms dominated the city's skylines.  Man, woman, child were instantly vaporised, as the heated air touched them.  Every time a meteorite hit, another piece of the world slowly crumbled.

****

The teenager knew he had to stay away from the main roads.  They would be bursting to the brink with rioters, battling for the last supplies.  His chances would be better, if he followed the back streets.  Jim slowly walked along a quiet alley and came out in a road he had never been in before.  Keeping his head down, he jogged along the old, cobbled street.  He almost lost his footing, as he accidentally stepped into a small crater.  Something caught the boy's eye and he ran towards it.  As he approached the ruined building, he felt his heart rise.  By sheer luck, he had discovered a corner shop, that hadn't been raided.  As he stood back from it, he realised why.  Through the splintered window, he saw that wooden beams and concrete walls had fallen on the shelves knocking them to the ground.  This might have deterred the rioter, hoping to make a quick snatch and grab, but not Jim.  He was skinny and that meant he was lithe.  It might have been dangerous and stupid, but now was not the time to be afraid.  If he wanted to survive, he had to do this.  As Jim suspected, the door was wedged shut.  Something must have fallen against it, making it impossible to open.  However it shouldn't be too difficult to smash the window.  Jim stood back and picked up a meteorite fragment before throwing it at the glass.  There was a shattering, as the shards danced through the air, before hitting the concrete.  Even though it was strictly prohibited, Jim took his bag with him, when he was evacuated from school.  Knowing now, that he no longer had any use for his equipment and books, he threw them away and carefully climbed through the makeshift hole.

****

Out of the corner of his eye, the teenager spotted something.  He approached the counter and flinched, when he saw what lay behind it.  It could've been the shop owner, splayed on the floor.  It could've been the work experience kid.  It could've been anybody.  Jim didn't care.  He stood back from the counter and took a few chocolate bars.  The teenager dropped to his knees and tentatively browsed the shop floor.  One of the shelves had toppled over, leaving enough space for the boy to scrounge underneath it.  So he wouldn't put himself in any unnecessary danger, he extended one arm into the crook, the fallen shelves had left.  After a few minutes of empty purchases, he struck gold.  By luck Jim had grabbed onto a multipack of crisps.  He put the food into his bag, along with the other random items, he’d picked up.  Jim didn't know whether the shop's infrastructure had been weakened by the meteorite storm.  The building could collapse at any time.  He turned to leave, when he gasped, as two streaks of white lit up the darkness.  The shopkeeper wasn't dead.  He must've been wounded.  "Help me..." He croaked.  Jim groaned.  He couldn't afford to care about anyone else.  He grunted an apology, as he pulled open the door.  "Don't leave me.  Please help." The man behind the counter, screamed.  Blinking back tears, Jim walked away from the man who would almost certainly die.

****

The teenager viciously spat out his emotion.  He had just left a man to die alone.  What was he turning into? Jim looked at his watch and frowned.  According to the timepiece, it was late evening, but it was still light out.  As rubble trickled out of his hair, Jim understood.  The meteorites burning up in the atmosphere, had cast an unnatural red glow over the city.  Something grabbed his leg.  Jim looked down and saw a blond haired man, close to death.  He shook the bloody hand off and carried on walking.

“Kill me!” The man called out.  Jim ignored him and carried on walking.

“Don’t leave me like this.” The man cried out.  The teenager hesitated this time, but he carried on walking.

“YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!  KILL ME!” The man screamed out.  Jim could no longer overlook the man’s pleas.    The teenager reluctantly walked back to the man who was now writhing in agony.

“Why do you want to die so badly?” Jim asked.

“No...body cares ab...out me.  Nobody is com…ing for me.  I'm in so much pain.  I’m going to di…e any...way.  I want…to go out quickly.” The man’s speech had started being broken up by deafening coughs.  Jim was unsure of what to do.  He had never been asked to perform euthanasia before.

“What’s your name?” The teenager asked, awkwardly.

“Tom.”

“I'm Jim.  Take some deep breaths and calm down.  It'll all be over soon.”

“D…on’t give me… that rub...bish.  Just kill me!” Tom had started coughing up blood.

Jim raised his hands.  “You can't ask me to do that.  I can't."

“It won't...be long now.  St...ay with...me!” Tom could barely speak now.

"I will."

“Don't leave me al...one.” Tom begged.

Unsure of what to do Jim held one of the man's hands and clutched it tightly.  After a few short seconds or it could have been mere minutes, Tom's body contracted as he went into a severe coughing fit, but thankfully he soon laid deathly still.  Jim looked into the eyes of the man who had just died.  A meteorite flying into a derelict corner shop, blasted Jim back into reality. Somehow the rubble had caught fire and the teenager heard the protests of rioting civilians.

Jim stood up and carried on walking.

****

The screaming had stopped.  The suffering had stopped.  The shouting had stopped.  Had it all ended? Jim was sitting on a pile of rubble, like a king.  His subjects lay dead around him.  The world, as he knew it was over.  Destroyed by the meteorite storm.  Governments had collapsed.  Societies had crumbled.  Nature had been cremated.  Jim hoped it would not take long to make order out of chaos.  Whatever new society would be created, Jim would have to enter it alone.  He had rejected anyone who had tried to help him.  This was the attitude he wanted to adopt.  Now he was paying the consequences.  Fourteen years old and alone.  Jim did the only thing he could do.  He stood up and carried on walking.

****

Around the world, survivors huddled in groups.  Waiting.  In silence.

*author's notes*

Written for a contest about the end of the world-more specifically a meteorite hitting.

Monday 3 October 2016

Prayer

Dear God,

I dream bout her again.  No.  Not dream. More like nightmare.  She screaming, as Pa beat her.  Nightmare invade my mind.  I whimper.  Watch Pa batter her body.  Burn behind my eyes.  She bruise purple, like a rose.  My mammy like a rose, towering above a pile of dirt.  I dream about joining my mammy.  I dream about climbing over thorns, join her in heaven.

Same nightmare.  Every night.  I always try open my eye, but I never scape.  I try scream, but can never scream in dream.  Every time the nightmare happen, every time I fall sleep, my mind sink into darkness.

See her blood, red as hell, splat the floor.  Watching Pa beat my mammy, like watching a rabid animal tear through prey.  Hear her screaming too, sound of fist hitting flesh.  I try stop him, but he say it for her own good.  He say, she a bad influence on me.  Say she teach me woman skills and it not right.  She don't realize her place and she need to learn.

Finally awake.  Pa never make his bed, but I always do.  I do it, cos I know it make my mammy happy.  Even in death, she my crutch.  I try wake early to cook breakfast.  I do it quietly.  If Pa catch me cooking, he beat me.  He say cooking Sofia's job.  But she no cook.  I can't tell her though.  Not big enough yet.  She beat me.  I always try fight back, but she too strong.  It hurt too much.  I always got to crawl away and cry to myself.  Whenever men round, I got to stay strong or it be my blood soaking into the floor.

I own a jukejoint.  It makes beaucous of money but aint what I wanna do.  I don't belong here.  This ain’t my kinda place.  My mammy always talk about be respectful to womens.  My mammy tell me to look after woman.  Can't do that here.  Woman just for show, like caged animals at the zoo.  Woman not people here.  They made to drink, sing, look pretty.  My mammy always told me your wife is the most 'portant thing in the world.  So treat her like royalty.  I treat Sofia like a queen, so why she treat me like joker.  I wanna be king.  My mammy tell me I can be king and I believe her.  Before my mammy die, Pa treat her like trash.  I don't wanna be like the men at the club.  I wanna be someone different.  If I wanna win Sofia back, I needta change.  I needta be different.  I needta be a man she aint never seen before.

I watch other mens enjoy themselves.  They drink, like dogs at their bowls.  They try get me to join in.  If I don't say yes, I get kicked out.  It might be my bar, but I got no power here.  If mens don't waste money on drink, it be on games.  Cards.  Chips.  Juss thrown across the table.  Men get so involved, they almost gamble away they woman.  My mammy never go places, like this.  Pa never allow her.  She stuck at home.  Her spirit slowly trickle away.  No surprise she cheat.  She left on her own.  All day.  Nothing to do.  No love.  No respect.  Nothing to stay for.  I sneak away from the joint.  I don't belong here.  Not my place.

I go back to the ranch, where Celie working.  No.  Not working.  Slaving.  Dying on her feet.  I watch her struggle with the water.  She musta carry it all the way from the river.  Walking all that way while the sun burn down.  She musta sweat a waterfall.  She stumble an I see sweat pour down her face, like it trying to run away.  She look at me.  Her eyes be begging for help.  If my mammy were here, she'd tell me go help her.  But not Pa.  To hell with him, I say.  He not the boss of me.  I go help Celie.  I know it make mammy proud.  As me and Celie stumble into the house, we walk past Pa, who sit on the porch.  I specs him to shout.  To be angry.  But he stay quiet.  Just sit there.  He different somehow.

It be Sunday.  Day of God.  Day of peace.  Me and Pa walk to church.  A woman block our way.  Pa shove past her like she invisible.  Nothing compared to the opposite sidewalk.  What was happening? All I sees is a man shoving a woman to the ground.  The woman be cowering, cawing like my mammy was.  The man lose control.  Go wild.  Nobody stop him.  This be normal.  This be right.  Tell her she need to learn her place.  I turn away.  Feel sick.  It feel wrong in my head.  So why they see it as right?

I and Pa walk into church.  Kneel down.  Say our prayers.

 *Author's Notes*

This is the fifth draft of my A-Level coursework based on the novel The Colour Purple.  Any and all SPAG mistakes are completely intentional, as I was trying to recreate the voice of a deep south uneducated african american in the 30s.  I suppose this could be classed as fanfiction.  A very big theme in this book is patriarchy and sexism.  The protagonist's mother was killed by his father for being unfaithful.  However before the protagonist's mother died, she taught him to be respectful to women and he is trying to honour her wishes.