vinush Posted September 22, 2014 Report Share Posted September 22, 2014 The full moon was obscured by the black, rain laden clouds causing the graveyard to appear as a large inky blot. The shadows coalesced at the centre, merging into the elegant shape of the gentleman. He was dressed entirely in black, from his straight cut trousers to his military style jacket with its obsidian buttons he absorbed what struggling light there was. His hand swirled like a conjurer on stage and his wide brimmed hat appeared in his talon-like finger. With a flourish he mounted it atop his fleshless head to hide the gleam of bone from view. As he began to walk, an ebony cane materialised in his hand, its tip clacking on the cracked flagstones beneath his feet before the sound vanished into the still night air. He trod the same path out of the cemetery that he had taken every year since he was alive and moved through the locked gate like a wisp of smoke through a screen door. Ambling slowly down the thoroughfare he ignored the choked off screams of those unfortunate enough to pass him by as they desperately avoided his gaze for fear of whatever grim fate would befall them should they meet his eyes. --- Reuben sat staring at the door with his gun grasped between his hands, the shaking barrel aimed vaguely at the entrance. Isobel had long since gone to bed, leaving him to his silliness as she called it. She’d pouted at how ridiculous he was being. She’d tried everything to get him to join her, used all of the tricks she knew to entice a man between the sheets only to be waved away. She had stamped her foot and cursed him as she tromped upstairs to bed alone. “The devils take you!” She’d cursed before slamming their bedroom door. He wasn’t worried about the devil taking him though… --- The gentleman stopped and turned his head this way then that, as if sniffing the air for some tell-tale scent of his prey. His filmy gaze settled upon the clock tower as it began to chime. Seventeen bells, one for each innocent life lost that night that he was here to avenge. As the final echo of the last chime faded he set off with purpose, his message clearly delivered to those who understood. --- Clack, clack, clack. The sound was like gunshots to Reuben’s frayed nerves. Clack, clack, clack. He’d almost soiled himself when he’d heard the toll of the bell tower invade his trance-like concentration. A miserable whimper had escaped his throat. Clack, clack, clack. The sound was deafening, joining the racket of his pounding heart which threatened to burst from his chest. Reuben held his breath; a silent prayer to the gods of Malifaux went through his head, praying that this was not his time, that he’d last at least another year. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK. Reuben’s sanity finally cracked. His grip on the gun’s handle was slick with sweat, his aim wavering so badly that he was just as likely to hit the floor or ceiling as he was anything coming through the door. The gaslight flickered three times and his breath began to frost in the icy chill of the air. As soon as the black apparition began to emerge through the still locked and barred door Reuben lost the battle for control of his bladder and a warm damp patch spread through his breeches while he mewled like a terrified child. The gentleman raised his hand and pointed a bony finger directly at Reuben’s chest, his rictus grin gleaming in the harsh gaslight that suffused the confined space. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK! Reuben unloaded three shots from his pistol which passed harmlessly through the wraith and bit deeply into the wooden frame of the door. The gentleman reached his icy grasp through Reuben’s chest and began to crush his rapidly beating heart to cause a seeming eternity of agony until it was still. The gentleman turned and vanished from the room, the fading clack, clack, clack or his cane echoing back the way it had come as he returned once more to his resting place within the cemetery until next year. --- As the clouds parted, a single spear of silvery moonlight illuminated the inscription upon the tombstone: The Fewer the Men, the Greater the Reward. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
vinush Posted September 22, 2014 Author Report Share Posted September 22, 2014 Themes used: Character - The Gentleman Caller Line - The fewer the men, the greater the reward. Words: 718 As an aside, I need to work more on longer stories rather than ones this short... Vinush Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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