Bullets wizzed past me. Each one was just a hair space away.
He shot and shot, but never hit me. They came in random order and places. Pieces of wood fell from the roof and hit me as the bullets went threw.
For no apperant reason, he stopped shooting and everything went quiet exsept for a strange cracking sound beneath me.
Suddenly, the floor of the attic shot up over my head and I landed hard on the carpet of my sister's room.
"What the fuck?!" he yelled and cocked the gun again.
Wait a second...that wasn't his voice. Not at all. It was deeper and rougher then his.
I raised my head and looked at the man. He was taller and buffer then him. The only simularity between them was the black hair, but it all stopped there.
His green eyes reminded me of bright green grass shining in the sun shine. Not the evilness of the dark.
Once again, the old time saying came back to me. "Eyes are the window to the soul." His didn't ring goodness, but they were better then the handsome stranger. Don't get me wrong, he is good looking too, but nothing compared to him. I realy wish I could remeber his name.
I tried to speak, but air would come out of the slit in my throught instead of my mouth, making it impossible.
He came to me and gently grabbed my chin, forceing me to look him into his eyes and I shook with fear. "Who are you?" He asked with an urgency in voice. When I didn't answer, he asked again. "Who the fuck are you?" Once again, I didn't answer. "Useless," he mutter as he got back up and pointed the gun at my head.
I squinted my eyes shut and waited for the pain...and waited...and waited. Finaly, I dared to open my eyes.
The gun was no longer pointed at my head. His arm was hanging limp at his side. His gaze kept switching between me and the pictures on the mirror. "Is that you?" He finaly asked. I shook my head no.
He snatched the picture with him drinking the blood of my sister. He held it so close to my face that it rubbed my nose. "Do you know this man?" I didn't answer. I was afraid he would kill me if I answered. "Do you know this man?" He asked at little louder. "DO YOU KNOW THIS MAN?!" He yelled and I shook even harder from fear.
I pushed myself away form the picture untill I was against where I started to sob. I felt so weak. I couldn't even stand up. The walls seemed to be movinging on me.
Abrutly he jummped you from his crouch, stuck the picture in his pocket, and pointed the gun at me again. "Useless," he muttered before he pulled the trigger. The loudness of the bang was muffled by the pain that fallowed.
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Created on 2-9-08
Views(67)
Story Rating G
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