Creative Story : A Short Story

The prisoner lunged over the rail, as bullets incinerated the stairs, where it had been only moments before. As the prisoner flew to safety, time seemed to hold still for a moment, the world in all its perfections and imperfections holding a collective breath. Reality came crashing back, the ground shook and a nearby building transformed into smithereens, firing everything into the air.

The heavy clear doors slammed open one by one; big bright lights pierced my eyes above with little images of ceiling tile surrounding me that I could barely make out. People in navy blue uniforms huddled around me appearing to be in a hurry somewhere based on they’re bright red faces and the drops of sweat that were slowly dripping and collecting down they’re flushed faces, that eventually fell and exploded on my cold skin. All the commotion around me came to an abrupt halt. Now I was starring at the ceiling once again that now portrayed a blurring metal reflection of my broken and beaten down body that was bound to keep destructing and destroying. I could vaguely hear footsteps that seemed to be in the distance, but became louder and clearer with each step closer towards me. A sudden mask like object appeared directly over my face slowly easing its way down to grasp onto my pale face. Darkness now was the only thing left in sight and would stay this way for hours.

"Ha! Gotcha now, doll!" Byron had dropped Jill off at Charles' place, to pursue her. He was gaining on CJ; so much that he could see her dashboard. He tapped her bumper from behind, and latched onto it. They were attached for miles. CJ steered her car into the rural area of town. She geared it in reverse and jumped out the door. Byron was thrown through his back windshield. She ran from both vehicles, as far as possible. Byron was after her; he couldn't allow her to live with the truth. It was a brick wall; she was trapped.

“Oh Dang! He said under his breath. The church is on fire! “Let's go see what the deal is.”

“Run! Trav there gaining on us!” screamed Aaron. The tall, 17 year old boy, with dark brown hair was what seemed like miles in front of Travis, his younger brother, even carrying all the supplies for 3 people. Travis, looking back every couple of seconds, weakly yelled “Wait Arron to the right that should take u- us back!” Arron took a sharp right into an alley way. He tackled the few biters that were in the way to clear a path so his brother could get through safely. “Righ- no go left! Your left!” After following his brother’s directions they made it back to the main road where there dad was waiting, screaming, with the window down for them to hurry. Arron threw the large duffel bags into the back of his dads old, 2 door, 2000 Dodge Dakota with the dented hood. Travis bolted around the truck to the opened door on the other side and leaped to safety while, Arron hopped in the back and tapped the top of the truck 3 times signaling to his dad it was okay to go. Immediately after they speed away down the highway littered with crashed cars, corpses, abandoned suitcases, and much more. Aaron let out a deep breath and sat with his arm perched on the side of the truck as he watched as the horde of zombies faded away. He slid around the cooler and pulled out a Gatorade, wiping away the water that dripped from the bottle, with the bottom of his ACDC shirt. He slid open the back glass of the truck and handed it to Travis. His dad glared at Arron then told his

“Can you tell us your name?” A female voice said as it jolted me back to consciousness. As my eyes adjust to the bombard of light I wince in pain. I sat up and looked at my surroundings in shock. I am strapped to a stretcher as I being carried into an ambulance. In front of me is a destroyed building along with several other hurt civilians.

A moron named Jack lived with his half moron mother in a rusty devastated shack on a rotten farm growing only thorns. All they had that was considered a luxury was their skinny cattle that produced very little milk. As soon as the cattle stopped producing milk, the mother wanted Jack to go sell it.

The heavy clear doors slammed open one by one; big bright lights pierced my eyes from above with little images of ceiling tiles surrounding me. I could barely focus on the objects let alone recognize them. People in navy blue uniforms huddled around me appearing to be in a hurry based on their bright red faces and the drops of sweat that were slowly dripping down their flushed skin. The drips of perspiration slowly puddled on my cold, dry skin. When all of a sudden the commotion around me came to an abrupt halt. Without warning, I blinked and found myself once again starring at the ceiling. Except this time my vantage point was much clearer and I saw my battered reflection of my broken and beaten down body. In the distance I could faintly

The Elark lunged for him again, grabbing his amulet and trying to rip it off of his neck, Phoenix raised an arm and swung, catching the creature on the side of his face, a small cut on the Larks cheek began to bleed profusely where Phoenix’s ring had struck him. He roared in pain and staggered backwards, Nix tried to take the moment to feel for his phone that had been lost in the scuffle. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled across the floor, shards of broken glass sticking into his palms. It was impossible to see through the smoke and rubble, he was trying to concentrate all of his energy into his hands but he couldn’t seem to make a spark. He didn’t want to yell because if there were more Larks nearby it would only draw them in, he was by himself.

Lord Fox laughed as he hugged the child close. 'Have you thought about any names for him, Aunt Eliza?'

In a fit of rage, he ripped a large chunk of his body away and in one swift motion, threw it at the nearest cluster of stars. It bodily slammed into Man, one of the largest, taking him by surprise and expelling an enormous burst of life as it ricocheted off. The piece absorbed the damage it had done as it collided with one star after the after, each shouting in pain and shock as their light was ripped away and rolled into the ever-growing ball.

All too quickly, Gemma and I found ourselves clacking down the metal stairs, arriving at the foot of the red room.

It was quiet on the sea that day. Juana sat with her firstborn in her arms, and watched the clear water. The sea was a mirror that day, and as she looked down into the blue she saw her own face staring back. Worry was present in her eyes, as she continued staring down, hoping for a glimpse of anything other than herself. Waves lapped at the canoe, slowly rocking the boat back and forth, causing Coyotito to still in her arms. She glanced down to check the infant was still breathing, simply to satisfy the brief thought in her head that he had stilled forever, before closing her eyes. Her face was set rigid as she sat, wishing for luck from the god’s hands. From God’s hands. Whichever would help her son first.

Bells rang loudly and Shikamaru gulped, smoothing down his hair and fidgeting with his clothing. He paced back and forth and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

Stiles stood silently with his hand rested against the window that looked into Derek’s room, tears streamed down his face as he looked at the aftermath of something they caused.