The Dark Hatter
11-12-2007, 04:02 PM
This is a short horror story i wrote after watching the fireworks at disneyland. I have not researched firework shootings, so this might be unrealistic. :o Hit me up with encouragement, thoughts, musings, comments, ideas, reviews, and even critizism if you want. It's a free country. (-:
WICKED FIREWORKS
My dirty sneakers pounded upon the pavement, making loud, wet noises as I sprinted down the side-walk. CLOSER, CLOSER. I was blocks away from my first firework shooting.
Sweat trickled down my face. My breath was coming out in faint, wheezy gasps. My heart felt engraved in my chest, and it was beating faster than the speed of light. [Or, at least, it felt that way.] My body felt like it could break into a pile of bones any minute, but I didn’t care.
I ran across the road, without waiting for the car to stop. I almost got pulverized.
Finally, I was there. Rotten Cherry Street. I crossed the road again, not waiting for the light to turn red. A big van was coming at full speed. The driver was obviously drunk.
But he wasn’t too close. I was going to make it.
But then, fate. Rotten, stinking, bad fate. My shoes slipped on the wet pavement. I fell on my back. My spine collided with the concrete. I almost bit my tongue in half.
The man in the van honked madly. He accelerated, bent on running over the blurry object in the road. I watched in terror as the crushing wheels grew closer, and closer. Unable to get up, I lay flat on my back, closed my eyes, and waited. Waited for the end. The car was only a foot away. And then…………………………
Fate – Again! Heavenly, blessed, wonderful fate!
The car passed over me, but I felt nothing but air. I opened my eyes, and there I was, lying in the street.
What happened?
I watched the van drive off, realizing the wheels had not reached me. I sighed with relief. And glanced at my watch. Oh No! I was three minutes late!
My feet pounded against the sidewalk. A little shaky, but still alive, I stood on the curb where I was supposed to meet Skull. {He was the supervisor of the whole program.}
A man stepped out of the shadows of a dark alley nearby. He was almost completely brown-skinned, except his face, which was pale as Clorox. I shivered.
“Finally you are here. Just on time. The others did not come, but you will do PERFECT. Follow me.” He turned and started walking down the alley.
Why did he say I’m just on time? I thought, I’m 5 minutes late.
"Uh... I'm not sure I should," I said, gulping.
Upon hearing this, Skull spun and stared at me with a menacing look.
"Why not?" He asked, his grinding his teeth.
"I'm not supposed to follow strangers," I replied nervously. My stupid stomach was doing sommersaults again.
"Oh no," he replied, quickly, "I'm no stranger. See?" He held out a small card like a police's badge.
"Skathen Anders," it read, "Proffessional Firework Shooter."
I can't beleive i fell for it.
"Alright," I said, following him like the fearless idiot I was.
Soon we came to the shooting area. Three men stood by the launchers, smiling ghoulishly. I gulped. Skull’s hand was gripping my shoulder like a vise.
“Now,” Skull, his face the exact picture of a grinning skull, “THIS is how you shoot a proper firework.”
As if on que, the men grabbed me. I struggled, but it was no use. I tried, to scream, but Skull’s hand was clamped tightly over my mouth.
I could only watch in horror as another thug tied me to the biggest firework I had ever seen. Then skull and his cronies released me. Once again I struggled, but the ropes were tied tightly. I yelled as loud as I could, but no one heard me.
“Have a nice trip,” Skull said ominously. He lit the end of the firework with a match. The fuse traveled across the rope, then reached the rocket.
There was an ear-piercing screech, and I found myself flying into the sky. I closed my eyes tightly and waited for fate to help me out again. But it didn’t.
Far below, a large crowd of people watched the explosion in awe, completely unaware of my screams.
WICKED FIREWORKS
My dirty sneakers pounded upon the pavement, making loud, wet noises as I sprinted down the side-walk. CLOSER, CLOSER. I was blocks away from my first firework shooting.
Sweat trickled down my face. My breath was coming out in faint, wheezy gasps. My heart felt engraved in my chest, and it was beating faster than the speed of light. [Or, at least, it felt that way.] My body felt like it could break into a pile of bones any minute, but I didn’t care.
I ran across the road, without waiting for the car to stop. I almost got pulverized.
Finally, I was there. Rotten Cherry Street. I crossed the road again, not waiting for the light to turn red. A big van was coming at full speed. The driver was obviously drunk.
But he wasn’t too close. I was going to make it.
But then, fate. Rotten, stinking, bad fate. My shoes slipped on the wet pavement. I fell on my back. My spine collided with the concrete. I almost bit my tongue in half.
The man in the van honked madly. He accelerated, bent on running over the blurry object in the road. I watched in terror as the crushing wheels grew closer, and closer. Unable to get up, I lay flat on my back, closed my eyes, and waited. Waited for the end. The car was only a foot away. And then…………………………
Fate – Again! Heavenly, blessed, wonderful fate!
The car passed over me, but I felt nothing but air. I opened my eyes, and there I was, lying in the street.
What happened?
I watched the van drive off, realizing the wheels had not reached me. I sighed with relief. And glanced at my watch. Oh No! I was three minutes late!
My feet pounded against the sidewalk. A little shaky, but still alive, I stood on the curb where I was supposed to meet Skull. {He was the supervisor of the whole program.}
A man stepped out of the shadows of a dark alley nearby. He was almost completely brown-skinned, except his face, which was pale as Clorox. I shivered.
“Finally you are here. Just on time. The others did not come, but you will do PERFECT. Follow me.” He turned and started walking down the alley.
Why did he say I’m just on time? I thought, I’m 5 minutes late.
"Uh... I'm not sure I should," I said, gulping.
Upon hearing this, Skull spun and stared at me with a menacing look.
"Why not?" He asked, his grinding his teeth.
"I'm not supposed to follow strangers," I replied nervously. My stupid stomach was doing sommersaults again.
"Oh no," he replied, quickly, "I'm no stranger. See?" He held out a small card like a police's badge.
"Skathen Anders," it read, "Proffessional Firework Shooter."
I can't beleive i fell for it.
"Alright," I said, following him like the fearless idiot I was.
Soon we came to the shooting area. Three men stood by the launchers, smiling ghoulishly. I gulped. Skull’s hand was gripping my shoulder like a vise.
“Now,” Skull, his face the exact picture of a grinning skull, “THIS is how you shoot a proper firework.”
As if on que, the men grabbed me. I struggled, but it was no use. I tried, to scream, but Skull’s hand was clamped tightly over my mouth.
I could only watch in horror as another thug tied me to the biggest firework I had ever seen. Then skull and his cronies released me. Once again I struggled, but the ropes were tied tightly. I yelled as loud as I could, but no one heard me.
“Have a nice trip,” Skull said ominously. He lit the end of the firework with a match. The fuse traveled across the rope, then reached the rocket.
There was an ear-piercing screech, and I found myself flying into the sky. I closed my eyes tightly and waited for fate to help me out again. But it didn’t.
Far below, a large crowd of people watched the explosion in awe, completely unaware of my screams.