A Short Story : A Story?

Suddenly, Dally yells in a strangled, loud tone to give him the money again. Dally’s loud tone and strangled words sounds like his voice is breaking into pieces like his heart. Dally’s mouth stretches out in an angry grin and a sad one too. A cut shows the worker’s face in a close-up with the gun shoved into the side of his cheek. The worker gives Dally the money.

He took the small locket from his pouch and opened it, revealing the same picture as the frame. “You don’t think that they could be nearby do you?” he asked, “I doubt that this locket could be that old.”

The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the house. He heard the chair drawn back and the door opened. A cold wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.

Next morning, he had woken early. He saw the doorknob turning, he got up. The door opened, but no one could be seen. His heart started pounding and fearfully he ran out of his bedroom into the

"No, no one has touched it," replied Lady Caldwell smoothly, and Elisa let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. The tension that had been bottled up within her slowly bled away, and then Ethan's hand shifted to her waist to draw her closer. The color heightened in her cheeks, but she felt too dizzy and lightheaded to really care what his aunt might say about such familiarity. The box was locked and closed, that's all that mattered.

"so what do you want to do today," i asked hoping he had nothing to do tonight so i wouldn't have to go home.

He slammed the door shut and locked it. The locking mechanism made a decided click that was a comfort to his harried senses. The acrid scent of sweat reached his nose, and he became more aware of the mess he’d created on himself. He peeled his t-shirt off, immediately more comfortable than before. His breathing slowed and evened out as he allowed himself to relax. He slid his back against the wall and sat heavily. Once again, as time slugged by, he felt his anxiety rising. It was dark and all he could hear was his calm breathing. He was safe, he was fine. Nothing could get him

"Copper! You have his car!" I screamed, but it just made him angrier. He stormed over to me and yanked the necklace right off my neck. It shot pain down my spine from the force of the yank and I tumbled forward slightly.

When he entered the alley he felt worse than before. He grabbed onto the fire ladder which led up to his window. That’s when he heard it. A soft voice glided around him. “James, accept me.”

“Like what?” My question lingers in the air for a moment before she offers that we watch a show.

Clare wondered. She slowly advanced, the scream had come from inside a nearby house. Clare slowly and cautiously opened the wooden door. A slow creak was audible, and there she saw him.

He needed to be careful, the Construct over there in the corner was definitely watching him. He couldn’t move too much. Inch by inch he worked the knife out of his sleeve, down to his hand. Once he could reach the tip of the sheath with his other hand, he began to work that off, again, inch by

Sarah Montgomery sat on the small ledge by the window seat, watching longingly as happy children walked home from school. Murphy was on her lap, whom she was petting gently. Sarah took one last glance out the window before heading downstairs, with Murphy following at her heels.

Leaving the motel on Highway 74 around 3:00 o’clock, Marlene drove faster than usual to get home ahead of Jerry and Andrew. Smiling, her thought lingered on the last few hours spent with her lover. Pulling into the garage, Marlene parked her Mercedes, brushed her hair put on fresh lipstick, before going into the house, relieved she was home when her husband and father-in-law arrived. Wanting to surprise them, she went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, sat down at the counter and glanced through the mail.

A sigh of frustration escaped my pursed lips and I made my way into the kitchen, snatching the largest knife found. A weapon of minimal use, even in the hands of a skilled master. The wooden floorboards creaked with every cautious step tiptoed towards the crescendo of violin strings. It was like an enactment of a horror film, the edgy music accompanying the damsel about to meet her doom.