Creative Writing: Otis Killings

The world is on fire. I crouch in the small interior of a vessel. Watching in disbelief as everything burns. I shall tell you what I know of how this tragedy came to be.

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

On a cool, rainy night, military policemen in Fort Bragg, North Carolina responded to an emergency phone call from Jeffrey MacDonald. When they arrived at his house, they discovered the brutally murdered bodies of MacDonald's wife and their daughters, however, he was still alive, although he had to be resuscitated. MacDonald stated to the police that three men attacked him. He saw one black man wearing an army field jacket with E-6 stripes, and two white men. MacDonald said that one man was carrying a baseball bat or a club, which would account for the blunt force trauma to his wife and children. He stated that one of the men had a bladed weapon, possibly a knife or a

I didn’t kill him. Did I? I forgot. No I hit him. It didn’t kill him. Or did I hit him? Arm? Leg? No, it was stomach. Chest? I couldn’t have killed him if I shot his chest. There are bones there. I’m crazy. The creaks grow louder. I finish my email as I open the door to my office. I take the gun and point it to myself.

It was two in the morning and a barefoot and bedraggled, sixteen year old Charlie Matheson clung to her father in the President's office, softly weeping.

Jake opened his pocket watch, tipping the crystal face toward the low flames of the campfire. Another hour before daylight and he’d pick up Duvall’s trail. The muscles in his jaw clenched, hate pulling at every part of him. He’d kill Duvall, and he’d do it with Texas’ silent blessing. No judge had pronounced a sentence, but Jake saw the outlaw pull the trigger—watched Harrison die.

I stood outside the high school. There were police everywhere, ambulances too, even though no one got hurt. Except Reagan. Reagan acted as if everything was her fault. But it wasn't. She looked pretty willing to die. I swallowed as remember what happened afterward. The murderers left through a window, and Abby came back. The police came in, guns ready to see no one there. Okay, maybe I was a fool to not tell anyone what happened, Reagan's secret, the weird, extremely creepy cult thing, okay? I mean what did Reagan do besides watch The Flash, play the violin, normal things. Everyone had some secret. Reagan didn't want her secret to die with her.

Although Summer was coming to a close, the smothering heat had yet to subside. As a result, Alfred Jones was spending his last few days of freedom, relaxing on top his cherry red Chevy truck, sipping cold bottles of soda and whistling old tunes. He kept going over a particular phrase mentioned to him again and again, that vacation always seemed to fly by, but these past weeks, every hour seemed to drag on until every day seemed meaningless. He brought the rim of the bottle to his mouth and surveyed Calamity look-out. Lush trees, cracked roads, obnoxiously coloured houses... Same old, same old. It drove Alfred insane, he was never able to stand the peacefulness of it all, everything in (think of town name later) was so... unimaginative. It

as Duncan goes into Manuel’s dorm he sees his gf changing he apologized and was starting to walk away until she grabbed his hand and brought him in the room with her. She shuts the door behind them before anyone could notice. As Duncan was trying to apologize Manuel’s gf didn’t want to hear it. Instead, she went on Duncan and whispered “this is what happens when you stare” then she takes her bra off as she starts to make out with Duncan. While this is all happening Duncan wanted to leave but then he was kinda enjoying the feeling of what was happing at that moment. For some reason, Manuel wasn’t what was on her mind anymore she just wanted to have Duncan… all of him… as she takes his pants off and finds out that Duncan was excited for what

"Hello, this is Jimmy's pizza, how can I help you?" answers the woman from the pizza restaurant.

Then some of people noticed a new guest, dress as a clothes of the Red Death. Everyone was freaking out because of him. When Prince Prospero saw this guy, he became angry and asked courtiers to seize him and unmask him. But no one have the courage to do it, including Prospero himself. The Red Death walked through the rooms, heading toward the black room. Prospero chased him with taking his dagger. Prospero reached the edge of the dark room, the Red Death suddenly turned to face him, and Prospero fell on the ground and dead. "Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony

“Looks like her,” the Fat Cop confirms “But, she is dead. She drank too much at the general’s birthday party, and fell into the swimming pool. It was dark. She is dead. Drowned. I forgot to write a report. But, her body disappeared. Federal police took the body., Nothing we can do officially. We are looking for it.”

Look at the footprints across the vast area of the beach, so short in existence. Here one minute and gone the next, washed away with the ever turning tide. These footprints imprinted in the sand tell a story that is mine, the changes in my life thus far. A change that once impacted upon my life was never to be the same again. For just this one moment time would stand still. It was just me and the ocean, nothing more, nothing less, everything else but the rhythmic pounding of my feet upon the sand would lose significance. A sharp buzz rings out from the other side of my eyes, awakening me from the disturbing visions that plague my dreams. For a brief moment I am convinced that it is all it is, a nightmare, and then the reality

Almost two days later another shooting took place killing a total of four people in a Maryland food store. The Police Force refused to release the killer’s name only said “The Mad Gun”. A older gun left his home with the intent to kill hundreds as was written in his journal, along with other acts of terror. “I laugh at myself at the thought that this new control law could ever make a difference, I will show them. Hundreds will fall to me” - The journal of The Mad Gun. The gun entered the store and demanded the doors be locked and everyone get to the floor. With the chance of death on them, ten people fell to the floor, while a cashier locked the doors. The gun proceeded to fire at the Cashier shooting him dead. The shot was heard by nearby bystanders, and the police were quickly alerted. In either panic or anger the gun loaded himself and proceeded to kill four people around him before taking his own life. No one will ever forget these two most heartbreaking days. Though one elderly man escaped certain death. Alex Glue was alone in his New York home on a late friday

I killed her. It all started in 8th grade, she hated everything about herself, she hated the way she looked, she hated