Post by kittypatter on Mar 29, 2010 11:20:50 GMT -5
Allie watched the man before her, he moved to the back tables, picked up glasses, returned, moved to the front tables, picked up glasses, returned, and then perched himself behind the counter and watched her as she hunched over her drink. It had been her only one in the past three hours. He was waiting for her to finish, leave, or order another. She wasn’t going to give him such things and just continued to guard her half finished beer. Moving, reluctantly, to serve another customer, the man left her in peace but the only move she made was to shift on the hard, wooden stool.
The wooden front door was already open a fraction, the lock splintered where it had been broken off, scratched… chiselled away…
She glanced behind her as the door of the bar swung open, a cold gust of wind and powdery snow followed the newcomer, a rounded man with a beard and flat cap. He took residents at the bar, far down from her, where he ordered a large mug of amber liquid and slunk into a relaxed stupor. Another man entered, this one was slimmer, he wore a black cloak and his face was shadowed by the dim lighting. He sat at the far back of the bar without ordering a drink, his back to her, face looking down at the wooden table littered with recently used mugs that were yet to be cleaned.
The hallway was littered with smashed items; glass from frames, books from shelves, shoes having tumbled from the stairs in someone’s haste. The kitchen door was wide open, something rouge shimmering on the frame...
Again Allie shifted uncomfortably, glancing over her shoulder at the man that had just entered. He rolled his shoulders before leaning back; she looked away. Staring into the contents of the ochre liquid, she sighed and took a small sip, the liquid war mining her throat slightly. A girl besides her blew bubbles through her straw.
A young ginger haired child moved through the hallway, crunching the glass, heart hammering madly against her ribcage. Bending, she picked up a copy of The Wizard of Oz from the floor, its pages were splattered with the same crimson substance that stained the door and the kitchen floor. The book was replaced back on the empty shelf as she took a step into the brightly lit kitchen…
The girl besides her had straight, shoulder length raven hair. She looked towards her sister, the redhead, who was once more peering over her shoulder into the dim corner. The large, cloaked man was now drinking a beer, half of the contents already emptied.
‘What are you looking at?’ the younger of the two asked, looking around Allie to get a better view. She could hardly see anymore of the man than the first sister could. He was hidden by a small, wooden alcove that bent with the aged beams of the ceiling. He had purposely sat out of eyesight.
Allie didn’t say anything.
Pressing a hand onto the door, she felt the sticky matter, it was hot between her fingers and she quickly wiped it onto her jeans as if it was poison. The kitchen table was overturned, two of the chairs smashed, and water gushing from the broken sink. The back door was open but the garden showed no sign of having been destroyed; it had just been used as an escape exit. Three bodies lay on the kitchen floor.
Allie stood up, her hands limp by her sides but her sister remained where she was, confused about what was going on.
‘Allie, are we leaving-’
‘No.’ she replied stiffly, moving across the crowded pub floor.
The younger stood but didn’t make any more moves; her sister was heading towards the cloaked man.
Two elder people and a young, charcoal haired girl lay, plastered with their own blood on the demolished kitchen floor. Her Mother, her Father, and her sister. Something caught the girls azure eyes, she looked back up to the window and saw the back of a cape as someone disappeared over the fence. She was going to run, to chase after the person because at this moment she wasn’t seeing anything but hatred.
Someone moved on the floor.
The girl was at her sisters heels in seconds, looking shifty, knowing something bad was bound to happen. She snagged Allie’s arm just as she stopped at the mans side. The man didn’t look up and just took another sip from his beer. He didn’t seem to know that she was coming to see him, but after a second, a shining gun was against the side of his head and he realised what was happening.
He stiffened and with a shaky hand lowered his mug onto the table.
The younger of the three bodies was sitting up, she gave a gasp and all the blood around her drew back into her skin, into the puncture marks; her cut lips healed, broken bones clicked back into place. Green eyes stared at her sister, frightened, gasping for air, young face tear stained.
‘Allie?’
‘Allie - it’s not him.’ the younger moaned as she heard the gun click. They’d been in this situation many a time. ‘I know it’s not him, Allie, please, can we go.. - Allie, put the gun down - ALLIE!’
Back in the real word, Allie abruptly sat up, sweat coating her skin, heart hammering madly against her ear like an alarm. It was still the middle of the night, the room was dark, the only lighting from the moon which was clearly visible through the dusty windows.
The wooden front door was already open a fraction, the lock splintered where it had been broken off, scratched… chiselled away…
She glanced behind her as the door of the bar swung open, a cold gust of wind and powdery snow followed the newcomer, a rounded man with a beard and flat cap. He took residents at the bar, far down from her, where he ordered a large mug of amber liquid and slunk into a relaxed stupor. Another man entered, this one was slimmer, he wore a black cloak and his face was shadowed by the dim lighting. He sat at the far back of the bar without ordering a drink, his back to her, face looking down at the wooden table littered with recently used mugs that were yet to be cleaned.
The hallway was littered with smashed items; glass from frames, books from shelves, shoes having tumbled from the stairs in someone’s haste. The kitchen door was wide open, something rouge shimmering on the frame...
Again Allie shifted uncomfortably, glancing over her shoulder at the man that had just entered. He rolled his shoulders before leaning back; she looked away. Staring into the contents of the ochre liquid, she sighed and took a small sip, the liquid war mining her throat slightly. A girl besides her blew bubbles through her straw.
A young ginger haired child moved through the hallway, crunching the glass, heart hammering madly against her ribcage. Bending, she picked up a copy of The Wizard of Oz from the floor, its pages were splattered with the same crimson substance that stained the door and the kitchen floor. The book was replaced back on the empty shelf as she took a step into the brightly lit kitchen…
The girl besides her had straight, shoulder length raven hair. She looked towards her sister, the redhead, who was once more peering over her shoulder into the dim corner. The large, cloaked man was now drinking a beer, half of the contents already emptied.
‘What are you looking at?’ the younger of the two asked, looking around Allie to get a better view. She could hardly see anymore of the man than the first sister could. He was hidden by a small, wooden alcove that bent with the aged beams of the ceiling. He had purposely sat out of eyesight.
Allie didn’t say anything.
Pressing a hand onto the door, she felt the sticky matter, it was hot between her fingers and she quickly wiped it onto her jeans as if it was poison. The kitchen table was overturned, two of the chairs smashed, and water gushing from the broken sink. The back door was open but the garden showed no sign of having been destroyed; it had just been used as an escape exit. Three bodies lay on the kitchen floor.
Allie stood up, her hands limp by her sides but her sister remained where she was, confused about what was going on.
‘Allie, are we leaving-’
‘No.’ she replied stiffly, moving across the crowded pub floor.
The younger stood but didn’t make any more moves; her sister was heading towards the cloaked man.
Two elder people and a young, charcoal haired girl lay, plastered with their own blood on the demolished kitchen floor. Her Mother, her Father, and her sister. Something caught the girls azure eyes, she looked back up to the window and saw the back of a cape as someone disappeared over the fence. She was going to run, to chase after the person because at this moment she wasn’t seeing anything but hatred.
Someone moved on the floor.
The girl was at her sisters heels in seconds, looking shifty, knowing something bad was bound to happen. She snagged Allie’s arm just as she stopped at the mans side. The man didn’t look up and just took another sip from his beer. He didn’t seem to know that she was coming to see him, but after a second, a shining gun was against the side of his head and he realised what was happening.
He stiffened and with a shaky hand lowered his mug onto the table.
The younger of the three bodies was sitting up, she gave a gasp and all the blood around her drew back into her skin, into the puncture marks; her cut lips healed, broken bones clicked back into place. Green eyes stared at her sister, frightened, gasping for air, young face tear stained.
‘Allie?’
‘Allie - it’s not him.’ the younger moaned as she heard the gun click. They’d been in this situation many a time. ‘I know it’s not him, Allie, please, can we go.. - Allie, put the gun down - ALLIE!’
Back in the real word, Allie abruptly sat up, sweat coating her skin, heart hammering madly against her ear like an alarm. It was still the middle of the night, the room was dark, the only lighting from the moon which was clearly visible through the dusty windows.