Post by Beta 112 on Mar 26, 2009 15:11:56 GMT -5
Aight, so this is the first short story I wrote for this site, In fact i even titled it Starlight Fantasy short. So anyway, I don't normally write in first person, actually, I never do. This would basically count as my first foray into fist person. Though not that makes a difference, I originally started it in my standard third person, but as I got to the end I was like: "This would be so much more epic in 1st person" So I just went back and changed all the he's to I's. Anyway, without further ramblings....
The rain poured down, filling the desolate street with small puddles and tiny streams of crystal clear water. It was dark out, the only thing that interrupted the imperturbable night were the brilliant flashes of lighting. Each one lit up the world just as if it was broad daylight, in a second of blinding light that left a fading jagged white streak in the sky, as if the world was cracking open to heaven.
I was soaked, his clothes clinging to my body, the blood diluted against the mostly white fabric. My blood dripped into the water surrounding him, the sound of the drops drowned out and lost amongst the sound of infinite raindrops striking the ground with his blood, just as they washed his blood away in quick elegant wisps.
I did my best to stand, focusing on the silhouette standing with its back to me several yards away, in fact that was the only thing I saw, the rest lost in a swirl of black insignificance.
I leveled the small semi automatic pistol on him; my hands held steady despite the amount of blood I had lost. I let out a small grunt of pain as he did so, and somehow, even though the noise should have been drowned out to anyone else by the pouring rain, the silhouette turned.
I could barely see its face, and even from this distance I could see the expression on the familiar face, his mouth was open: he was about to say some condescending statement of superiority. Then he saw the gun, and his eyes widened with fear, his hand went for his own gun, reaching inside his heavy coat. I knew what was running through the man’s mind right now, But how can you still be alive, I killed you, how can you still be here.
I smiled, and then the shooting started. I got the first shot in, the shot striking the silhouette exactly where I had been shot, exactly where he had shot me, an eye for an eye. Neither of us moved as they sat there, shooting round after round into each other’s chest, each held steady and silent save for a few gasps of pain and anguish.
And then the guns were empty, and my chest full of bleeding wounds, each one blossoming on my white clothes like a beautiful crimson flower. I watched as the silhouette fell, gracefully forward, his hand still outstretched towards me, holding the gun. I no longer saw the expression on his face, but I thought I knew what it was.
And then I forgot, and I fell forward, but I was not afraid, or sad, or anything like that. I was smiling, a faint smile, but it was still there, the emotion was too. And I closed my eyes, never to open them again. Consoled by the single unchallengeable fact: I had won.
The rain poured down, filling the desolate street with small puddles and tiny streams of crystal clear water. It was dark out, the only thing that interrupted the imperturbable night were the brilliant flashes of lighting. Each one lit up the world just as if it was broad daylight, in a second of blinding light that left a fading jagged white streak in the sky, as if the world was cracking open to heaven.
I was soaked, his clothes clinging to my body, the blood diluted against the mostly white fabric. My blood dripped into the water surrounding him, the sound of the drops drowned out and lost amongst the sound of infinite raindrops striking the ground with his blood, just as they washed his blood away in quick elegant wisps.
I did my best to stand, focusing on the silhouette standing with its back to me several yards away, in fact that was the only thing I saw, the rest lost in a swirl of black insignificance.
I leveled the small semi automatic pistol on him; my hands held steady despite the amount of blood I had lost. I let out a small grunt of pain as he did so, and somehow, even though the noise should have been drowned out to anyone else by the pouring rain, the silhouette turned.
I could barely see its face, and even from this distance I could see the expression on the familiar face, his mouth was open: he was about to say some condescending statement of superiority. Then he saw the gun, and his eyes widened with fear, his hand went for his own gun, reaching inside his heavy coat. I knew what was running through the man’s mind right now, But how can you still be alive, I killed you, how can you still be here.
I smiled, and then the shooting started. I got the first shot in, the shot striking the silhouette exactly where I had been shot, exactly where he had shot me, an eye for an eye. Neither of us moved as they sat there, shooting round after round into each other’s chest, each held steady and silent save for a few gasps of pain and anguish.
And then the guns were empty, and my chest full of bleeding wounds, each one blossoming on my white clothes like a beautiful crimson flower. I watched as the silhouette fell, gracefully forward, his hand still outstretched towards me, holding the gun. I no longer saw the expression on his face, but I thought I knew what it was.
And then I forgot, and I fell forward, but I was not afraid, or sad, or anything like that. I was smiling, a faint smile, but it was still there, the emotion was too. And I closed my eyes, never to open them again. Consoled by the single unchallengeable fact: I had won.
