Somewhat of a requested story, I had an idea to write and proposed a friend to write it with his character, and he proposed a different story idea, mainly the first part. It's still a WIP, already at 2000 words and haven't gotten that far into things yet.
Here's a small preview, just the first part of the story
* this is not yet proof-read for mistakes, and is also a base version. When it's finished I'll likely read it all over and then change parts
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Jarod, as usual, had gotten himself into trouble. Most of the time, it was limited to a slightly drunken session of police bad-mouthing. This time, however, a few lines were crossed.
Those lines now resembled the vertical lines in front of him, thick steel bars, lining the room he was in. A pissed-off cop had escorted him in here just earlier, and in a rather rough manner, pushed him in, then closing the door. Now he sat on the small bed, resting against the grey brick walls, as he stared out of the temporary holding room.
His usual lack of care was now the opposite, as he was rather worried. It was only going to be for two months, but consequences were already lining up in his head. His job would be a goner. His family would be so dissapointed in him. Instead of thinking the police were just idiots, this time he was actually remorseful, hoping to undo what he'd done.
His anxiety was pulled away however, when an unfamiliar officer had come to his door. "Well, don't ask me who, but you got bailed", an annoyed voice rang at him as the man opened the door. "Now, follow me and we'll get you your belongings back, and then you'll be on your way, got it?"
Bailed? Nobody was with him when he got arrested. Nobody he knew, knew he was in here, so how had someone come to bail him out?
He made his way past some guards, eventually getting his belongings back as he stood at the main hall, about to leave. A wallet, which was empty anyway, and actually not his own. Besides that, he got his keys, and some paperwork from his release.
And now he stood there, in the main hall, able to look through the front door, to his freedom, with some mysterious person to thank for it. No names had been given, and nobody had stayed here to wait for him. Despite the uncertainties, he wasn't going to stay there and ponder about it. Once outside, a deep breath of fresh air filled his lungs.
"Nice evening, isn't it? Let's go for a small walk."
The voice had caught him off-guard, as it appeared to his side. The voice was deep, and commanding. Maybe this was the person he had to thank for bailing him? He thought that that was the case, and despite the oddities, wasn't all that alarmed. The man whose voice had just told him to come for a stroll, now appeared besides him as they walked along the streets. He was a tall man, slightly taller than Jarod himself, and was wearing a black suit. While not covered, the dim evening light made it hard to make out his features, but he appeared to be in his forties, having a rather stern expression.
"So, it's nice not to be locked up, isn't it?"
"I suppose so..did you pay for the bail?", I asked straight away, curious as to who had set me free, so to speak.
"Well, technically it was me, yes. But someone higher up told me to do so."
"Higher up?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to dissapoint you. I'm not allowed to go into details."
We walked on, as the conversation had stopped. I was left to question this man mentally, and spent a long time doing so. Why would someone want to set me free? Me, of all people.
All I was certain of was that I was grateful, whatever the reasons were.
Eventually, we approached a long, black limousine. The man, whose name I still didn't dare to ask, crossed the road towards it, and I followed his lead.
He got to the side, opened a door, and motioned for me to get in.
At this point I got apprehensive. Sure, I was graceful, but the limousine ride seemed suspicious. I started to hestitate, which was noticeable in my behaviour.
"Ehh..thanks, but I can walk home.."
"I'm sorry, but you're not going home.", the man commanded, his already deep voice turning down several notches. He removed one hand from the door, and proceeded to lift part of his suit, revealing a pistol on his belt.
Nothing beats a fire-arm when it comes to impression, and I was left with one that made me feel choiceless. Panicking, sweating and anxious, I stepped into the limousine. Much to my surprise, there was no large interior for me. Right in front of me, a section had been walled off, reducing my area to the black leather sofa, the doors, and a metal wall in front of me.
The door to my right slammed shut, and I heard several mechanical clicks.
I presumed those clicks to be the door's locks. While some of the noises may indeed have been from a locking system, a part of them were for a far different system.
I heard rusty metal slide over other metal, as a small patch of the metal was pulled away, revealing a round metal pipe. Mechanisms began to churn, a hissing sound , a weird smell, and before I knew it, darkness.
Topic: WIP Requested story, 'Nothing comes free' (Read 1088 times)