camroze Cam Roze

A Man named Steve has been having chronic nightmare since he was six. he never thought the nightmares were tales of things to come. he tries to resist his future... the coming of the Reaper is soon...


Fantaisie Fantaisie urbaine Tout public. © All Rights Reserved

#fantasy #dark #magic #death #weapons #demons #urban #fighting #Reaper # #grim
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Last Day Of School

The bells are clanging loudly. The old styled bells echo throughout the school. Thank God that must mean we are finally in summer break. I feel sort of empty. I always was a bit of an outcast.


I get up from my desk and gather my things from the lift open lid. I find a way to stuff my backpack full. Books, lunch pail, report card and exams. I brought home most of my goods yesterday. I had alot in the wood shop and in the art class.


I walk out and don't bother anyone as I manage to slip through the crowds unnoticed. Advantages to being like a ghost. I think to myself. I slip out the front door. Everyone is bustling to their cars and busses. I of course am walking over to the bike rack. I haven't had a part time job yet, so I haven't managed to get a car.


I feel like the day was just ridiculously slow. Even if I did fall asleep in my final class. I don't know why they don't start school a bit later. I think. I yawn before I magae to hook my bike lock back together, and free it.


BEEP! SCREECH!


A car slams on its breaks and misses a student in the road. Thankfully they didn't get hit. Talk about a close call with death. I think.


"Are you alright?!" I hear someone run up and ask them.


I just sneak away silently. No words spoken. I head left and go towards home. The walk is short. The town isn't anything spectacular.


I finally get to the corner of my street and walk right up to the porch steps. "It's convenient to be close to school. Thankfully I won't have to go until September. Then I can head into university." I talk to myself for a moment.


I head up the stairs. They creak with each step. I don't know when it was last checked or replaced. Dad's been gone for years now. I sigh as I lean to go through the door.


SNAP!


I fall one legged through my deck. I try to hoist myself back up with the one leg. I fall back into the hole. I can't seem to just lift my way out. Great. Just what I needed. I think to myself.


No noise is inside of my home. Mom must already be at the bar. She works there as a second job. Since dad isn't around, she's got to pay the bills alone. She also doesn't want me to work yet. That's the hard part. I know I can help.


"So I'm alone... great..." I say as I dig in my pocket for my flip phone.


I go through my contacts and call mom. It rings. A second time. Forwarded to voice-mail. She didn't answer.. great. I think.


"What now..." I look around for something I can grab onto. I need up and to cover this hole so mom doesn't fall too.


It's at times like these, I wish I had a friend. I can handle being alone, but this stuff seems to always either happen to me or around me. I sigh. I eyeball the doorknob. What if...I think as I jump with the leg in the hole, lifting with my other to hoist me up.


I slap my hands around the doorknob and pull myself up a bit more. I slip my foot away from the hole. I groan.


"So what am I supposed to fix you with?" I ask myself as I stare at the hole infront of me. "Either way, mom's gonna be some upset." I say. I go to the backyard and look in our shed.


"No plywood.." I look around seeing the blades and tools. I'm surprised ad didn't take this stuff. I think to myself.


My phone rings. I dig it from my pocket. Sure thing, mom is calling back.


I flip the phone open. "Yeah hey." I say.


"What's going on? You called me. I'm at work." Mom says harshly.


"I kind of fell through the front porch." I say.


"I'll leave money after work on the counter so you can pickup plywood later. I used the last sheet on a few jewelry boxes I sold." She says.


"Alright. Sounds good. I'll catch ya later mom." I say.


"Night, sleep well, don't stay up too late. Oh, there are fast fry steaks in the fridge if you want for dinner." She says.


"Okay, thanks. Later." I hang up.


What a weird call. When did she start making jewelry boxes? I wonder. I put my key into the door and walk into the house.


Emptiness. That's all there us to greet me. An empty home. No friends. Although, I have the attic.


I spring up the stairs without thought. I know where I want to be. I have been reading some of the stuff dad left. Alot of it was grandpa's. I never got to meet him. Grandpa spent his life traveling the world.


I catch my breath after I reach the old ladder hatch. I let it down. I pull the ladder and straighten it. I climb up quick as I can. Up into my haven I go. I flick the light on.


The shadows run from the light and I can see clearly as I half crouch into the attic. I scramble over to the chest against the backyard wall. The cobwebs around me don't bug me. I just open the chest and start by gathering through my grandfather's stuff.


When I move a picture from the bottom, there's a note I didn't notice before. I must've rummaged through here a hundred times and didn't see it.


"That's... new..." I say quietly. I open the envelope.


When I pull the note from its envelope. The note is coffee stained and tattered. The ink is somewhat hard to read. I take out the matches and candles from the chest. I set both of them down and light them. I can see it a bit easier now.


'Dear Steven,' the note starts.


"It's Steve." I say as I read on.


'I am proud to announce you as a death soldier, a Reaper will come to fetch you soon.' I stop.


"This has to be a joke. Maybe a prank mom is trying." I say.


'I'd like you to also know, you examiner upon arrival will be your father.


Come to us soon,


Draco Ustiven


General Of Deaths Army third division.' The note ends.


I take the knife from in the chest and cut the note. I fold it then go to repeat the action. I accidentally slip, cutting my hand lightly.


"Ow! Son of a bitch!" I exclaim. When I look, blood is on my hand and the note stuck to it.


I wave my hand. The note hits the flame of the candle. It begins to burn as my blood burns with it. Smoke fills the attic as I wave my arm and pat out the note. Although it was a pointless attempt, it lays in ash now.


"Who put that there? That's not a joke mom would make..." I say to myself.

25 Octobre 2022 01:42:02 5 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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