Untold Imagination

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December 09, 2020

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Desperate Measures...

I was running for my life. A mad dash through the forest, which only minutes ago was intended to be my grave. I escaped my captors after a vicious and desperate brawl. Did not even find out why those goons wanted to kick me into a grave I had to shovel for myself. I spat an acidic, brown slime every rest, as I paid the price for years of smoking. Nicotine is a nerve-soother and ego-booster, but as well one toxin to be careful with. My instinct made me take the path less traveled, avoiding the easy routes, as any pursuer would catch someone like me. Right now the fatal accident of my wife and the loss of my job soon thereafter, during the 'depression' I still knew as traditional mourning-phase, seemed the least of a problem. Still they had taken their toll on a rough and humble dude, spoiled much of the sports I did in better years, too. I ran for my life, coughed-up a toxic juice I had myself to blame for, and didn't even know into which direction I was running...

Rush of blood...

"He's perfect," George whispered to himself, following the boy's approach. The streaked windscreen of his small, mud-caked van, gave him the perfect cover. This was the most beautiful little boy he'd ever seen. He speculated on whether they would end up being friends. The boy strolled along, unaware of the attention he'd attracted. His hair, long and sweeping, bounced around his shoulders with each long-legged stride. Overflowing with youth and unaffected innocence, his impression of the world, as yet, untainted. Saliva sprayed from his mouth as he tried, again and again, to whistle. He couldn't get his lips right, no matter how hard he tried. His Granddad was brilliant, especially when his teeth weren't in the way. He chuckled at this before giving it another go. Encouraged by how friendly the boy looked, George's anticipation grew. The van was already sweltering and sweat ran from his protruding forehead into his eyes. His vision blurred ...

Time...

There was a thunderous knock at the door that made me jump out of my seat. I walked down the stairs and looked through the peephole but I couldn't see anyone. I opened the door and jumped back after what I saw. There was a tall, black-robed figure with a scythe in his bony hand; It was Death. I was about to yell out in terror but I saw him put his hands up in fear and stumble back. I was confused, it was Death, why did he get scared like that. "Hey Pal, I didn't mean to scare you like that." He said to me. I just stood there, my jaw hanging down to the floor. "It's a-alright, I guess. Is it my time to go?" My voice cracked as I started to tear up. "Not yet bud, I was just wondering if you had a spare tire?" He replied. I stood there, baffled. Here was this terrifying creature towering over me, and he asked me if I had a spare tire. This couldn't be real. "A spare tire?" I sniffled while rubbing my eyes, thinking it...

A short walk to hell...

So she sat there in the cold dank cave waiting for something to happen anything to let her know how to escape from them. The masked figures appeared from the shadows even though she had tried to follow them she could never get out of here. She had punched bitten torn at the hoods covering them yet they didn't move and she ended up bruised and bleeding every time even though they never raised a hand at her. She sighs and shouts "fuck you all! Fuck you all I will escape and kill you all so piss in your hands and bath in your shit you pricks!" Breathing heavy after all the shouting she lies down and tries to remember who she is counting the facts in her head. 1. Her name was Susan hills. 2. She is 23 years old 3. She is scared to hell of Earwig's That was all she new something had happened to her two months ago and she had been here ever since. The only reason she new that was how the hooded people came and went like clockwork that you want to smash into a million ...

Visited...

I sighed, twirling my pencil absentmindedly as I stared at my math homework. I was barely paying attention in class, much less understanding what we needed to do. I leaned back into my chair, slightly tipping it over as I stared out of my window. The sky was clear today, not a single cloud to be seen. I could see my front lawn and my two apple trees in front of the gate leading to the front of my house. Today was Saturday, but despite the lazy weekend, I decided to wake up early and finish my homework. My eyes flickered back to my papers spread around my desk. That plan didn’t work out. I gazed outside of my window again. There was a small twisted brick road from the gate to my front door. It was old, and I was too lethargic to bother to renew it. Moss was crawling up the sides of some chipped bricks. Some lost their color, washed away from the rain, turning it to a muddy brown or a stained gray. My gate creaked. My gaze shot to it immediately. Just as I was going to return t...

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