terry
Niles Capello was famous for his curse
Of getting caught in all sorts of peril
That is until the port men pulled him out
In a flooded wooden barrel
Starting to realize my mistake.
But backing out now is like salt on a wound.
I'm sorry...this has to end.
Slowly, she pulled the thread through the fabric of the doll. The front of it's chest had been ripped open, some of the stuffing was falling out. But she didn't panic. She gently pushed the stuffing back in and sat down, resting the doll on her lap, and slowly worked at patching it up again. She didn't know the source of the slash, it had happened right before her eyes; but it was ok. As she pulled the open wound closed on the dolls chest, she knew she was doing the same for the man she loved, who was out there somewhere.
She told him that she'll watch out for him, even when he was many miles away.
He didn't fully understand...
He watched as the painter dragged the wet paintbrush across the canvas, marking a long streak of the blue. At first it appeared he ruined the painting, striking it across the already painted face of a beautiful woman. But the painter quickly began to work the colour in and it miracoulously worked perfectly.
"This really is a spectacular piece." He finally said. The painter turned his head slightly back in response, but didn't look back.
"Thanks." He said, continuing on his work.
"How long have you been doing this for?"
"Oh, all my life pretty much."
He moved around the painter to get a better and closer look at his work.
"You ever think about selling your work?" He asked.
"No, not really. Besides, I can't tell if they worked out or not..."
"What are you talking about, it's-" He gasped and took a short step back when he looked at the painter.
The painter was blind.
I felt a chill run down my back like the icy fingertips of the reaper. I frowned, turning slowly and looking around at my other co workers. Something in the air changed, it became tense and quiet. I looked at their faces, searching for the answer that I didn't possess, but they turned away and continued their work.
Then I heard her voice. It was such an irritating voice, I hated it immediately. I briefly wondered if the customers thought the same, why they weren't immediately walking out of the store.
Except she wasn't their manager...
It was chaos and confusion. Children were screaming and running, pushing each other out of the way to save themselves. The only light they had came from the cave entrance, at the end of the long tunnel. Freedom was there. Men shouted behind them, demanding them to stop.
Peri heard a young girl scream behind her and risked a glance over her shoulder. They were firing crossbows at them, each arrow attached to long ropes. The little one screamed in pain as she was pulled back by the bolt in her back. As she was reeled back, more arrows were fired, snatching the other children.
Someone slammed into Peri's shoulder and caused her to fall back, rocks cutting into her arms. The children trampled over her like a herd of wild animals running from predators. Soon as she could, Peri scrambled to get back to her feet only to feel a hand grab her hair from behind and yank her back. She was kicked over onto her stomach and a foot planted itself on her back.
"Hey boss, look at the wings on this one." The man shouted back. Peri strained her neck, looking over her shoulder to see a larger man walk over. An eyepatch covered his left eye but did little to cover the gruesome scar that ran down his face, pulling his mouth back in a pernament sneer. He knelt down, running his hands across Peri's feathers. The girl set her jaw and her wing shot up, nailing the man in the side of the face. He stumbled back with a grunt and growled.
"Cut 'em off."
The men laughed then, cruelly grabbing her wings and pinning them down while few others walked over with swords and axes. Peri looked ahead, towards the light. She could see the shapes of the others, escaping out of the tunnel. She struggled but it was futile, the men overpowered her easily. She screamed for help.
But she was alone.
"She's out there...somewhere."
"Unless they killed 'er already."
He turned, giving his brother a dirty look.
"That's my wife you're talking about."
"Hah," the older man said, a puff of smoke pushing through his lips around the half gone cigarette, "the woman y'thought yer wife ain't who y'married. She's been a two-faced dice t'ya."
"Two-faced coin." The younger added with a small sigh.
"Yea, whatever. Point is, she's an outlaw. A damn good 'un too." The older brother squinted, aimed, and fired. He watched a bird fall from the sky and hit the ground in a small cloud of dust.
"No, she left that life. She didn't tell me about it for a reason." The younger one frowned. "I have to believe that..." He following the older one across the ground towards the dead bird.
"Believe what'cha want. Either way, she's got a real big hole in 'er pretty face that she likes to flap around. Probably would have shot her just to shut 'er up."
"You don't know her!"
"She was my partner in crime for many years, baby brother. Trust me, I know her." The older brother swooped down and picked up the dead crow by it's curled claws. He turned to face the younger man, giving a toothy grin. "Now, how about sum dinner?"
He let out an angry shout as they forced him into the cell, tackling him down onto the bed and restraining his arms. Blood was flowing from his nose, his eyes were wide and crazed.
“What is wrong with you?” The man growled, watching through the window of the isolation room as the men fought against him. “Gage is unstable yet you trained him like a soldier?!”
“We had it contained. He was following orders-”
“So this is just a temper tantrum?” He growled, turning to face the commanding officer. “You put our most powerful weapon in the hands of an unstable! Put him down.”
“Sir, I can’t. He knows too much about the others, I cannot risk losing that information.”
“Then you better deal with it! This is your problem, not mine! I am not going to get my ass burned for your mistakes.” He glared at the younger man for a moment, hearing Gage scream viciously through the glass. “When I return, I want him to be obedient; I want him to be eating out of your hand! I want to see him domesticated,
“Or there will be hell to pay.”
“Why now? Why all this now?!” He pressed, frowning at the man that stood in front of him. “We’re in the middle of a major job, thousands of dollars are just within our grasp!”
“I just need to see all your recent transmissions, that’s all I’m asking for.” Gage said calmly, looking him square in the face. The man’s jaw tightened before he grudgingly passed it over. Gage took it with a nod, glancing over it quickly.
“You never answered my question.” The man hissed.
“Because there is a hole in your security,” Gage said, quickly taking mental note of the names, locations, and transit numbers, “a mole among us.”
“A mole,” his eyes widened, “who?!”
Gage looked up at him, feeling the cold metal reassurance pressing against his leg.
“Me.”
The two wires slipped into the hole easily and my tongue poked out with concentration. I felt the top wire graze across the top of the lock. Teasing one at a time, I carefully work through the lock. And at last, I felt that delightful last click, the lock coming loose and turning. I nearly let out a shout of victory but quickly reminded myself the importance of this operation. Top secret, no one could know. Carefully, I turned the door, cracking open the door.
Hah, my neighbour could no longer keep me out. I was going to turn down that damn thermostat.
And I was going to sleep well tonight.
load more entries
writing since 2011 · 20 entries · 18 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Terry showed up.
3longest streak
18days written
0.7entries / week
the words Terry reaches for
faceworkbrotherunderstandordersgagepainterlookinglockhalfsoldiersorrysirsuresignedbehind