Chicken Scratch

Had to write this one for a class. Didn't come out the way I wanted it to but people still seem to like it so here its is... a story for creative writing.

A story for Creative Writing
Bob sat at the computer, staring at its blank screen beginning to panic. Vacation was over and he had still not written his story for creative writing. It was supposed to be about Smaquis the Frog running a marathon at school, but he didn’t feel inspired by this scenario. Sighing Bob looked around the room for some item that might be the spark he needed to get himself writing. Nothing his eyes settled upon helped. The new lava lamp sat on his desktop slowly bubbling away, his dog, laying on his brand new sports bag, was snoring, the radio blared a new song he hadn’t heard before but nothing gave him the mental motivation he needed. Nothing provoked even the smallest story line in his head. Bob drummed his fingers on the keyboard searching for something to write about. Impatient with himself, he slumped down into his chair and looked out the window.
Bob searched the sky for the stars and the moon but they weren’t visible, obscured by a presumably large, thick blanket of clouds. Getting up Bob lumbered over to the window and opened it. Sticking his head out he was greeted by a surge of cold air and a gust of wind that played through his hair, ruffling it. Bob made a closer inspection of the sky, there wasn’t a single speck of light to be found. Then without warning his ears were bombarded with the intense roaring of jet engines passing by. He listened to the noise fade into the distant night sky.
Bob sighed and closed the window tight. What a night for flying, he thought. The thought echoed in his mind, reverberating inside his skull. He paused, standing completely still. What a night for flying, he thought slowly, more deliberately. Then a single image hit him like the proverbial and clichéd ton of bricks. It wasn’t much but it was the tiny glimpse he needed to start writing. Rushing back to his computer he sat down and began typing furiously trying to hold that single image in his mind’s eye.
‘The frigid winter air berated his face as he sped through the night sky. In response he pulled the scarf tighter around his face. His journey was far too important to be put off by the elements. Below a thick, fluffy blanket of gray clouds shielded him from prying eyes of those who might wish to stop him. Above was the open night sky in all its beauty. The stars and moon shined down; their illumination changing the darkness into an eerie twilight. He bobbed through this seemingly separate world with each flap of his steed’s mighty wings.’ Bob stopped; forming the still frame image he started with into a small movie clip, and began playing it over and over in his mind’s eye. What is the man riding, he pondered, why is his journey so important? What is his journey?
Not really knowing where the story was headed Bob began to slowly peck away at the keyboard letting the words form of their own accord. ‘The rider patted the ebony scales of his steed, mentally urging it to fly faster. “Come on Drexxig, we must be nearly there,” the rider shouted above the wind. A low, rumbling growl was all the rider got for a reply. “I know you’re tired old friend, and I promise this will be the last mission we will run,” the rider muttered patting the glimmering black scales once again.
“I heard that Yerin,” Drexxig said in a deep scratchy voice.
“Or course you did old friend, I shouldn’t have thought I could have slipped anything past the ears of a dragon.” laughed Yerin.’ Bob smiled for the story was now practically writing itself. He smiled as his fingers began to once again fly over the keyboard writing what he saw in his mind.
‘ “Hold tight, I need to check our bearings,” Drexxig bellowed. Granting Yerin only a moment to cling tightly to his neck, Drexxig folded his wings flat against his bulky frame and pulled his legs up against his soft underside. Stretching his neck out straight while using his long tail as a rudder Drexxig plummeted down through the clouds. Yerin held tight as they fell not daring to open his eyes. Suddenly Drexxig opened his wings wide and they once again caught the wind. Yerin opened his eyes after they came completely out of the dive and looked over to get a good glimpse of the ground.
He groaned as his eyes fixated on a large city a mere stones throw off to their left. “Go back up! We’ve flown to far east and come out right over Arduscil! Go back up before we are spotted!” Yerin bellowed. With an audible grunt Drexxig flapped his wings and they rocketed back up into the cloud line. Yerin began to panic, an argument developing inside him.
Did they see us?
There’s no way they did, he answered himself. It’s dark out and I’m riding a black dragon. Most of the city was dark and only the palace lights were lit. Either way they’d expect messengers to travel by land not by sky.
We still could have been noticed. The thought of being spotted haunted him. Drexxig was contemplating the same notion for he did not fly back up above the clouds preferring to stay in them for cover. The next few hours of their flight passed in a tense silence; neither of them dared to say a single word.
Finally dawn broke and Drexxig landed for it wasn‘t safe to travel by day. Taking shelter in a forest that was located conveniently nearby Drexxig and Yerin settled in to catch some sleep before they took to the skies at sundown. Yerin slept for a good period of the morning but was plagued by night terrors. However, these night terrors were more detailed than the average nightmare and their meaning could not be mistaken. Getting up quietly he fetched a quill and a piece of parchment from his travel pack. He scrawled a brief message and rolled it up tight.
The sealing of the message was another matter entirely. No ordinary means could be trusted to ensure the secrecy of what was written on that small piece of parchment. Magick was the only other alternitve. Yerin wasn’t a strong spell weaver, but he would be able to seal it from anyone without a comprehensive knowledge of spell craft. He straightened his right arm and turned the palm of his hand skyward; here he placed the rolled up parchment.
Recalling the correct runes he muttered in the Elder tongue, “Sowilo Ehwaz Ansuz Laguz (Soh-veal-oh Ay-wahz Awn-sooze Lah-gooze.)” Immediately the parchment was enveloped with a white aura. Yerin smiled, he had sealed it correctly and it would not open by any normal means. He woke Drexxig and gave him the parchment.
“What is this Yerin?” the dragon asked clasping the tiny parcel in his claws.
“It is a message, should anything happen to me you are to deliver it to Firyn. He is a hermit living just outside of the capital city of Elerin. He will know what to do with it,” instructed Yerin.
“But why are you giving it to me? Why can’t you deliver it yourself?”
“I’ve had a premonition old friend. My death is imminent and approaching fast. If it happens before I can deliver the message myself it will be up to you to deliver it. It is very important that Firyn gets the message, it may hold the key to stopping the advance of the armies of dark.”
“Well then, I do suppose it is important. But I cannot believe your death is coming for you on swift wings. You are with me and I shall protect you from whatever threat there is.”
Yerin shook his head ruefully, “You cannot protect me from everything. Death will come for me and you must be prepared. Seek Firyn.”
Drexxig snorted a small plume of smoke. “Nonsen --”
At that precise moment an arrow head blossomed in Yerin’s chest. He fell forward onto his knees as his hands flew instinctively to his back where the rest of the arrow’s shaft protruded out for about half a foot. Another arrow whizzed into their small camp nearly missing Yerin’s head. With a blank face he looked up at Drexxig. “FLY YOU FOOL!” he shouted as another arrow flew at them, burrowing itself into Yerin’s forearm.
Drexxig turned on the spot and spread his enormous wings. With a mighty leap and a flap of his wings he took to the skies. He didn’t take the time to look back at those who attacked them. He turned west and flew towards Elerin the parchment clutched tightly in his claws.
He did not even see the approach of two other dragons and their riders. Between them a large net was drawn out. They swooped down on him from above and dropped it over him. The net fell over his wings stopping them from flapping. He flailed, trying to free himself of the net but it only led to further entanglement. He fell from the sky back into the forest landing on his right wing with a sickening crunch. Pain racked his mind and soon caused him to pass out. The last thing he saw was his assailants landing beside him.’
Bob stood up slightly proud with himself. He hit the save button and the print button in quick succession. His work was done and he could hand it in, in two days time. The story had so far written itself but he couldn’t help but wonder what Yerin wrote on that piece of parchment.
Bob scoffed at himself. It was to silly of a thought to entertain. He had written the story so he should have known what was on the parchment, still the answer eluded him. It was information vital to stopping the armies of dark he thought matter-o-factly. The answer didn’t seem right, it was to vague and kind of hollow. Frowning he pushed aside those thoughts. He had finished the assignment and he could always go back and write more to it next time he had to do a paper.
Yawning he looked at the clock and saw that it read 10:43 PM. Getting into pajamas he turned out the light and crawled into bed. He tossed and turned for a moment getting comfortable. Still what was on that parchment? was the last thing he remembered thinking before sleep overtook him.

Demon's of the Past

Demons of the Past

My most vivid memory isn’t my wedding; it isn’t even a happy one for that matter. No, my most vivid memory is of the last week I ever saw Billy, my best childhood friend.

It was in the dead of the hottest summer Arizona had ever seen. There hadn’t been a drop of rain since June. Even the cactuses were suffering because of the drought. I had just woken up that Tuesday morning. I rolled over and reached for the remote on the dresser beside my bed. Instead my hand closed upon the list of suggested reading for junior year that the junior English teacher gave the sophomore class. Pulling the list down in front of me I scanned it for the first time since I got it. The list wasn’t populated by classics or poetry; it was a page full of horror stories. I could tell because half of the books were Stephen King novels and the other half had titles that screamed horror stories. Titles like “The Real Mr. Hyde” or “Creeping Darkness.” I rolled my eyes and dropped the list on the floor.

Sitting up I spotted the remote, snatched it, and flicked on the television. It was on the news channel. As I listened to Alex Rickman give a monologue story about a car accident somewhere near Phoenix in which someone died (the name wasn’t being released at that time) I rummaged through my dresser to find some shorts to wear for the day. I was about to put on a pair of Khaki shorts I found when Alex said something that caught my attention.

“For all of those people who are tired of the heat, relief is on its way. Rain is in the forecast as Gerry is happy to announce,” he said as he turned to the stations meteorologist. I froze with my shorts halfway on. I turned my head to look at the television screen and sure enough there was a forecast calling for rain. In fact, the entire forecast was rain, today, Tuesday, to the follow Monday, nothing but rain.

I shook my head in disbelief. It isn’t possible, I thought slightly amused with the obvious error with the forecast, just yesterday they were forecasting temperatures in the 100’s, with no chance of rain at all. Nevertheless, I quickly finished getting dressed and dashed to the window in the hallway.

To my amazement, my backyard was suspended in an eerie, unnatural twilight, caused by a blanket of rolling, gray, clouds. The first few drops of rain were speckling themselves against the window pain. Off in the distance, thunder boomed as a single bolt of lightning lashed out. Then my eyes settled on a glimmer of movement. Someone was out there running around like a fool.

What I then realized made me laugh. It wasn’t just anyone in my backyard; it was my best friend Billy. I went back into my room and got into a more weather appropriate outfit. Still chuckling I headed downstairs to my back door, opened it, and stood there watching Billy prance about like a Jackalope. Billy claimed to have seen one a week back and had been leaping about ever since.

“What are you doing?” I shouted to him from the shelter of the doorway. Billy stopped jumping about and looked over at me grinning.

“I was attempting to bring the Jackalope back,” he said sincerely, “they love the rain. So I figured that I could probably get him to come back if I was leaping about like he did.”

I shook my head. Billy had never grown out of believing in the supernatural stuff we all used to believe in. He still claimed he had seen a water demon at the Grand Canyon. “Sure Billy, don’t you remember that our Bio teacher said Jackalopes were non existent? Anyway you couldn’t get him to come back if you wanted to. Remember the water demon you had seen at the Grand Canyon when we were twelve? We went out there every night for an entire month that summer. Did we ever see him, or catch him? No, wait Jack did catch something… Oh yeah it was cold.”

Billy look disheartened at my sarcastic remarks, but he knew I was only joking with him. The smile came back to his face after a second or two, but there was something else that had crept into his face. It took me a second to recognize it, but there in his eyes was that mischievous glint that always meant we were headed for an adventure. “Speaking of that water demon,” Billy said slowly, working over the best way to pitch his latest idea to me, “he’s back. I know it!” he shouted as I began to open my mouth in objection. I closed my mouth and he continued on grinning.

“He’s back George, I saw him at the canyon a few nights back. Swear to god, George he was sitting on one of those cement-car-stopper-thingies at the front end of the parking spaces nearest the canyon. If you don’t believe me look around Georgie. It’s raining. We were having the hottest summer recorded and then in the middle of it all we get rain, POOF, like magic. He’s back you got to believe me.”

Billy stood there with the rain trickling down his face. The mischievous look in his eyes had vanished to be replaced instead by a an earnest pleading. I heaved a sigh weighing the prospect in my mind.

“If it helps you make up your mind I’ve already convinced Jack to come, for old times sake.”

Billy grinned as I rolled my eyes. How could I resist? Billy, Jack, and I were the best of friends. Since first grade we had been in the same classroom till Jr. High, but even then we had at least three classes a year together. No group of friends had had as much fun as we did. Each time we all got together we were always off on an adventure of sorts. Whether it was a dare to go spend the night in an old abandoned church that was haunted or hunting for a mythical beast Billy thought he tracked down, we always went together.

“It’s settled then,” Billy said full of enthusiasm, “we’ll meet back at my house at 4, tell your parents you can stay the night, bring your camera, wear extra clothes it could be a long stakeout.” He paused to inhale deeply. “Pack your bag with snacks and drinks and the like, grab an umbrella, a blanket if you want one, definitely grab a rain coat or a poncho or something, a flashlight or two or three, and I think that should do it.”

I laughed and told Billy I’d grab everything I could remember. He nodded and shot me one last triumphant grin before dashing off towards his house. I turned to go back inside chuckling as I kicked around the idea of one last attempt to find Billy’s mysterious water demon. Billy had done all the research possible and was an expert on them, but it never helped in proving they were real. Personally I didn’t believe a lick of it but in the spirit of friendship I played along whenever the subject came up. So I trudged upstairs and packed everything I would need for that night.

I spent the rest of the day playing video games and eating junk food. Occasionally I’d pause the game and walk to the window to stare out at the wet scenery and listen to the sound of rain on the roof. When 4 rolled around I wrote a note to my parents stating I’d be at Billy’s for the night and taped it to the fridge for them to find when they got back from their weekend trip. I slung on my backpack and tossed my poncho on over that, after locking the back door I headed off to Billy’s just like was planned.

As I walked down the street, I heard the splashing of someone running through the puddles on the sidewalk. I looked back over my now bright orange shoulder to see Jack sprinting up the sidewalk beaming at me. I stopped to let him catch up.

“Why did you slow down?” Jack asked breathing easy as if he hadn’t just sprinted at all “I was enjoying my run,” he laughed slapping me on the back. He always was the more athletic of the three of us.

I shrugged and turned back around resuming my walk towards Billy’s, Jack followed beside me. “How did he con you into coming?” I asked Jack sarcastically.

Jack shot me a sideways glance before replying. “Simple, he said that he had convinced you to come and that it’d be the gang together again.”

I shook my head chuckling, “He got you with that too then?” I asked. “Because that’s exactly what he told me.”

Jack shrugged, “Billy always was the cleverest.” I nodded because it was the truth.

We turned onto the pathway leading to Billy’s front door. He lived in a two story black house right near the Grand Canyon, just over half a mile to be specific. We walked up to the door and just before I hit the button to ring the doorbell the door sprung open and Billy was standing there grinning. He led us upstairs to his room so we could drop off our crap. His dad was still at work and his mom was in the kitchen baking cookies.

Once we got upstairs Billy laid out the plan for the night. His parents shared in his love of the supernatural and supported him going out to get proof that such things existed so they were completely ok with the plan. Around 8 after everyone left the Grand Canyon and the sun had set we would head over and set ourselves up with a good place to watch for the demon which we sought. He had packed a ton of energy drinks and what not in order to make sure we didn’t fall asleep during our stake out. From that point it was just a matter of waiting for the demon to show up and then we could get photo evidence of its existence, although Billy had packed some rope just in case there was the opportunity to snatch the demon itself.

We sat around in his room and caught up on life until his mom called us down for supper, it was Sheppard’s Pie, Billy’s favorite. For desert we had the cookies his Mom had baked earlier. What we didn’t finish of them she packed in a little bag for us to take with us. After thanking his Mom for the wonderful meal we went and got our stuff and headed out the door.

Within half an hour we arrived at the parking lot Billy had supposedly seen the demon in. There was a nearby information kiosk that we decided to hide behind while we were waiting. After setting up our little hideout we settled down for the long night we assumed we had ahead of us. We were quietly whispering when Billy motioned for silence with a finger against his lips. A low rumbling could be heard in the distance. My heart froze for a split second before I realized it was a thunder storm moving in. I burst out laughing causing Billy and Jack to jump in surprise This made me laugh even harder and soon they were laughing along with me.

Our spirits were high as the watch on my wrist beeped signaling eleven o’clock. The rain had begun to pour down even harder and the thunder was a lot more constant. Jack was beginning to look tired so Billy passed him an energy drink and cookie. Jack had just cracked the can when Billy signaled for silence again. We froze, barely daring to take a breath. Billy pointed a shaky hand out into the parking lot.

There, sitting on one of those cement-car-stopper-thingies was a creature of some sort. It was probably 4 feet tall and by the glimpses we could catch in the flashes of lightning had scaly skin like that of a fish. Its scrawny arms had hands that ended in 4 inch claws that seemed to glow incandescently, his foot claws did too but they were longer almost a foot. It turned its head slowly over to where we were and I could see two saucer sized, yellow, catlike eyes peering at us through the dark and the rain. My heart froze, my breath fled my lungs, and I sat there paralyzed with fear.

I could hear Billy rummaging in his sack, but I didn’t dare move enough to turn my head and see what he grabbed. Then, all of a sudden, a bright flash illuminated the darkness followed by the click of a Polaroid camera going off. The demon screeched a note almost above the range of the human ear and the spell of paralysis caused by my fear broke instantly. I covered my ears and hit the ground cowering. I was vaguely aware of Jack doing the same.

What happened next still shocks me to this day. I heard Billy start to run, away in fear I thought at first, then I realized he was running into the parking lot, towards the demon. I got up and chased after him all fear forgotten, solely concerned about Billy and whatever he was about to do. Jack was chasing after also I could tell because he passed me about two seconds after I started out.

The demon saw us coming and darted with unnatural grace and swiftness for such an odd creature towards the canyon itself. Billy was sprinting after it, the rope in his hands. Billy was gaining on the demon and the demon was caught either way for it had run out on an outlet of ledge that lead towards the middle of the canyon. Billy shouted for us to hang back and catch the demon if it managed to slip by him. We complied and watched as he slowed down approaching the demon. Billy drew out an arms length of rope and stopped mere feet from the demon.

Then without warning, Billy lunged himself at the demon, rope drawn tight in his outstretched arms. The demon didn’t move, it just watched as Billy soared at it through the air. Billy tackled the poor creature hitting it square in its scaly chest. Lightning branched out across the sky illuminating the scene. A look of triumph exploded across Billy’s face as he wrapped his arms around the demon. However, that same look faded within a split second.

The momentum and force he carried with him in that single lunge was more than the small demon could withstand, and the two of them toppled over the edge of the cliff. Jack and I dashed to the edge simultaneously shouting “NO” at the top of our lungs. By the time we got to the edge Billy and the demon were falling fast. I can still see those two yellow, catlike eyes shrinking, falling farther below.

I turned away and grabbed Jack’s shoulder forcing him to look away too. We stood there for a good ten minutes still in shock from the realization of what just happened. Then slowly we moped back to our things to pack up and head back. I volunteered to pack up Billy’s things.

As I put things back into the backpack I ran across a note. It was folded in fourth’s and read as follows:

If your reading this then something bad has obviously happened. I had a feeling that something might happen to me tonight. However, that also means I got a photo of the demon. Take that back to my parents and tell them all that happened.

P.S. Also tell them not to worry, that I’ll be back.

I read the note twice before showing Jack. He read it and shook his head ruefully.

“Just like Billy,” he stammered as a single tear streamed down his cheek, “he always had everything planned out.”

Jack and I walked back in silence. When we knocked at the door of Billy’s house his Mom answered the door. Jack opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Instead he handed her the picture and the note. As she read it, she burst into tears and looked in our faces for an answer of some sort. So, crying myself, I recounted the night from the moment we left the house to instance of our return. Not knowing what else to say or do Jack and I walked back to my house to spend the night there.

The newspaper the following morning had a story about a boy who had fallen into the Grand Canyon the night previous but police hadn’t been able to find the body to bring closure to the family. The rest of that week Jack and I spent together for we were the only one who really knew what happened to Billy, and none of our friends could offer the proper condolences to us, having not been there that night. Every day it for that following week it rained, and everyday we added our tears to the watershed for each day of rain was just a reminder of Billy and his water demon. That is my most vivid memory.

Day Off - an introduction to me

Ok so most people use their first blog to explain a little about themselves or something cool like that. Well I personally love to write so I'm going to share with you a short story I had to write for my Creative Writing Class. Hope you all enjoy it


Day Off


Even the most catastrophic days start out just like any other. They start out with no inclination, hint, clue, or small allusion to the fact that everything is about to be turned upside down. One such story is that of Todd Baker, Middleton County Police Officer.

It was Tuesday morning and all was wonderful in the little suburban neighborhood where Todd lived. The light from the sun had just breached the natural wall created by the nearby mountain chain flooding the valley with its radiance. Birds chirped happily from the small, neatly trimmed hedges having just caught their morning meals. Sparkling morning dew clung to blades of green grass causing them to bend over from the added weight. A soft breeze was blowing in through the screened windows causing the curtains to flutter lazily at its gentle pushes. With it, the breeze carried the soft aroma of garden flowers and moist dirt into the house.

The serenity of this scene was shattered instantly as Todd’s police radio squawked to life. Todd drowsily rolled over and listened to the dispatcher give a summary about a noise complaint at some house somewhere downtown. He yawned and stretched before superficially rubbing his eyes to get out any eye goop that might have gather there while he slumbered. It was his one day off for a month or so and unless something major went down he wasn’t going to worry about it. Todd sat up and dropped his feet down over the edge of the bed and into his house slippers. Still yawning he lumbered down the hallway and into the kitchen to scare up something to eat.
As he walked into the kitchen, he was greeted by the fragrant smell of cinnamon cappuccino flavored coffee that his coffee pot had brewed earlier that morning when its automatic timer went off. Todd grabbed a coffee mug from the dish drying rack and poured himself a large steaming cup of the coffee which he sipped gingerly so as not to burn his tongue. Turning on the television for background noise he began to rummage through the fridge and cupboards to find what he wanted for breakfast.

Before long the kitchen was filled with good smells of a wonderful breakfast being cooked. In one pan bacon was sizzling away, filling the air with its unique scent, and occasionally ‘popping’ its grease out of the pan. In another Todd had some onions and peppers sautéing so that they could be put into an omelet. Behind him on the other counter Todd had the toaster toasting a bagel to be topped with cream cheese and served along side his bacon and eggs. He stirred the vegetables deftly by picking up the pan and flicking his wrist causing them to fly out of the pan momentarily before landing back in it. When the smell of the vegetables filled the kitchen, deeming them thoroughly sautéed, he added an egg bath to the pan to start his omelet. Not but a few moments later, Todd took the omelet off the heat, slid it onto his plate, fished the bacon out of its pan to join the omelet, spread the cream cheese on his bagel, and finally sat down to eat.

From where Todd sat at his dining room table, he could gaze out the giant picture window at the street. He watched the cars drive by, the joggers amble by on their morning run, and the paper boy toss the morning paper at houses as he pedaled along his route. When he finished eating he carried the empty plate and cup into the kitchen. The television continued to ramble as Todd cleaned up from the mess his breakfast had left. This job was soon interrupted when his police radio once again came to life with noise. The morning tones were being broadcast as part of the daily check.

Somewhat annoyed with the radio Todd walked back to his bedroom to shut it off when the dispatchers voice once again issued forth from its speaker. This time she was reporting a robbery that happened on the other side of town. Todd was about to turn it off when he heard the address. He froze with his hand hovering inches above the volume/power control. The address belonged to his best friend from college Joe. The dispatcher had reported that no one was injured during the robbery, but Todd figured it’d be best to head over and check in with him anyway. Todd went and got dressed, grabbed his badge just in case, and headed to the car to drive over.

When he got on the road Todd turned on the car’s scanner just in case any more information was broadcast while he was in transit. After ten minutes of nerve racking silence where the only noise was the hum of the tires of the car against the road and the distant purr of the engine, the scanner crackled and light up, and the little box played dispatch tones for an ambulance. Todd turned up the volume and listened closely for what the dispatcher would have to say. Mere seconds after the tones the dispatcher started giving details.

Todd couldn’t hear all of what she was saying, but he was able to gather the situation. A Jane Doe had been found in the woods, shot dead, estimated to be dead for close to 25 hours previous to being found. Cause of death was decreed to be shooting, most likely by a 20 gauge shotgun. Todd shook his head, what a mess, he thought, glad it was his day off. He pulled into Joe’s driveway and noticed that Joe’s jeep was gone. Todd found this odd but figured the police had taken him downtown for further questioning and maybe a description for a sketch of the alleged culprit. He waited with a bad feeling gathering deep within his gut. After twenty minutes passed Todd got out his cell and called Joe.

“Hello, this is Joe,” came the answer after the rings had ended.

“Hey Joe, it’s Todd,” he replied, relieved that he had gotten a hold of Joe.

“Hey buddy. How’s work going for you?”

“Today’s my day off, but I heard about robbery so I thought I might stop in and see if I can’t help but you‘re not home yet.” Todd explained.

“I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. I had to go downtown, you know the routine stuff. However if I could get your help it’d be a life saver. No offense, but half the guys on the force nowadays seem incompetent, and I doubt their going to catch the robber or get back what was stolen.” Joe said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well when you get home I‘ll see what I can do, not like there was much for them to take.” Todd responded sarcastically. In reality Joe was well to do and had plenty that the local thieves wouldn’t mind taking off of his hands.

“Alright, I’ll talk to you then. See ya.” Joe replied in a finite tone.

Todd laughed and hung up a little more relieved than he had been. Within minutes Joe’s jeep pulled into the driveway, uncharacteristically muddy, Joe normally kept his jeep sparkling clean. Todd got out of his car and followed Joe into his house. Being a cop Todd was observing the scene from the beginning and oddly enough there was no sign of forced entry anywhere as Joe showed him around and pointed out everything that was taken. Finally Joe mentioned the fact that the one thing he really wanted back was the shotgun his grandfather had given him a while back that was always under lock and key, motioning to a giant mahogany cupboard. Todd didn’t spare the cupboard much of a glance but it looked fine to him from where he was standing.

The bad feeling in his gut was growing worse by the minute, almost to the point where he felt physically sick. Joe noticed that Todd was looking a little under the weather and offered to go heat up some coffee or get him some Advil. Todd graciously accepted the offer and waited for Joes to head back downstairs. Immediately he headed over to the cupboard and inspected it a little closer. There was no way it had been broken into. It was fashioned with one of those old locks that if it was picked, it’d never lock again. The lock still worked perfectly.

Realization dawned on Todd in one of those crystallizing moments where everything lines up and the truth no matter how ugly or how horrific stares right at you. Todd rushed downstairs visibly shaken by his comprehension of the situation. He began to panic when he saw Joe wasn’t in the kitchen, in fact, Joe wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Todd rushed out to his car and hopped into the driver seat. Taken a deep breath he grabbed at the mouthpiece for his scanner and started speaking into it. When his voice didn’t echo back at him from the little box, Todd dropped the mouthpiece. It had been disconnect from the scanner, or rather the cord had been cut. He reached for the handle to his car door but before his hand even got to it there was a click, like that of a shotgun being loaded and readied to fire.

Swallowing hard, Todd turned slowly to find himself staring down the barrel of a 20 gauge Remington. Joe’s voice came from behind the gun high pitched and hysteric.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone Todd, you just had to come down here and make sure everything was OK. You know just as well as I do that the police force is incompetent that’s why you never take a vacation, you don’t trust them to get the job done. Well this time buddy you stuck your nose into the wrong hornets nest.”

Thinking fast Todd spoke up “Joe, this isn’t what you want to do. I don’t know what you had against that girl but you don’t need to kill me too, I’m your buddy. I’ll testify that you were insane, you’ll get a lighter sentence. I promise.”

“SHUT UP” Joe screeched from the back seat his voice cracking. “You won’t testify for me. You know that. Even in college you always did the right thing no matter who it hurt. That’s why you’re such a good cop. But you’re not going to get me behind bars, no way no how!” With that Joe applied force to the muzzle and pushed Todd’s head towards the windshield. “Turn around, I can‘t look you in the face if I‘m going to do this.” Joe whispered, his voice still high and unnaturally pitched.

Left with no choice Todd slowly turned his head and closed his eyes waiting for the blow to come. He felt the pressure of the muzzle ease off his head and he knew that the bullet was coming. One second passed, then another, and Todd’s life flashed before his eyes.

“I’m sorry for this pal.” Joe whispered.

BANG

Todd jumped when the shotgun fired, but there wasn’t any pain, had Joe missed, am I dead, he thought. Then he heard it, the most sickening noise a person could possibly hear at a time like this. He heard the dead weight of something thud and squish against the back door. Slowly opening his eyes Todd looked back. There in the back seat was Joe’s lifeless body laid up against the door, shotgun still in his lap.

Todd almost broke the door in his attempt to flee from the sight that met his visage. Getting out of the car he ran into the house and dialed 911 as fast as he could, trying to get that singular image out of his head. When the operator answered Todd began to hysterically relay what had just happened. Kindly the operator asked him to calm down and tell her what happened.

Crying Todd replied, “A man just shot himself.”