*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1620448-Songs-We-Cant-Hear-Pt-1
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1620448
Charlie Johnson has several interesting, and potentially fatal, encounters.
Defenestration is an elaborate term for an extremely brutal act. Although Charlie Johnson did not know the word he instinctively understood this as he plummeted towards the ground amid a cloud of shattered glass and splintered wood. With a painful crunch he hit the roof of a car, rolled on to the ground, scrambled to his feet and ran. He did not look back as he heard the thing land not far behind him. As if to prove that God has a twisted sense of humour the full moon appeared from behind a cloud to illuminate the dilapidated industrial estate through which he was running. This did little to cheer him.

  While Charlie was used to being in potentially dangerous situations, being a drug dealer brought those kinds of risks, he had never experienced anything like this before. He had been trying, and failing, to make a deal one second and the next he was being thrown through a closed window by a thing that up until that moment he had believed to be entirely fictional. Normally when he learned something new about the world Charlie liked it, but in this case he really did not, because he had the absolute certainty that without some kind of miracle occurring he was going to die. Actually it was not so much that he was going to die, as he had faced death before, but how he was going to die. The thought of being physically ripped apart and eaten by the thing that was now getting horribly close made him feel physically sick. The fact that he did not vomit was probably because his lack of breathe did not allow him to.

    Charlie's heart felt as if it was about to hammer its way through his sternum and his lungs burned like over-worked blast furnaces as he searched around him for anywhere he could hide. When just ahead of him and to the left he saw the entrance to an alleyway. He almost lost his footing and slammed into one of the chain-link fences that ran down either side of the alleyway. However, he did manage to keep running, but the thing was still following him and he could almost feel its foetid breathe on the back of his neck. Suddenly, a man's voice came from directly in front of him.

    'Get down, now!' It bellowed. Charlie did not hesitate and dived for the ground. As he did so he felt, rather than heard, something pass above him very rapidly. Then he heard the thing let out a soul searing screaming howl and smelt the stench of burning fur. Seconds later he felt himself being dragged to his feet and heard the same man's voice he had heard previously.

  'Run!' Charlie did not hesitate. The alleyway made a sudden dogleg to the right and he almost crashed into the fence again, but moments later he found himself coming to a halt in the middle of a deserted road. As he was trying to get his mind around exactly what he had just experienced, and failing utterly, he once more heard the man's voice behind him.

  'Who are you, and why was the creature chasing you?' The content and tone of the question both worried and slightly baffled Charlie as he turned to look at his erstwhile rescuer and now interrogator properly for the first time. He was slightly taken aback by what he saw. The man appeared to be in his early forties and was dressed in a rather odd manner which made him look like a cross between a Catholic priest and a villain from a Spaghetti Western. He even wore a broad brimmed hat.

    'What the hell has who I am got to do with any of this?' Asked Charlie in a more than slightly confused tone.

    'He wants to know whether, or not, he should kill you too.' Said a female voice coming from the opposite side of the road. Charlie span around to see a beautiful young woman wearing red biker's leathers step out of the shadows. 'Of course, it would be for the good of your immortal soul, it's an old Catholic tradition. Isn't it Father Manning?'

    'You have no right to interfere in the work of the Lord, woman.' Replied the strange priest defiantly.

    'What a wonderful grasp of modern sexual politics you do have Father Manning.' Said the young woman contemptuously. 'I'm part of The Night Watch and therefore I have every right to interfere. I see from your reaction that you've heard of us, good. Then you'll know that your nasty organisation hasn't had any jurisdiction in the UK for over five hundred years and I would be well within my rights to arrest you.'

    Charlie had been watching and listening to this exchange in baffled fascination when he noticed the priest begin to reach a hand inside the long coat he was wearing. The young woman noticed this too and stepped forward slightly opening her mouth as if to speak. It was not words that came out of her mouth however, but a jet of searing blue flame that hit the ground directly in front of Father Manning's feet.

    'What in God's name are you?' Demanded the now terrified priest.

    'Something you've never seen before. Now, get the hell out of here before I get really angry!' The priest did not hesitate and fled as fast as he possibly could. As he did the young woman turned to Charlie with a smile and addressed him directly. 'Hello I'm Natasha, who are you?'

    'Uh … I'm Charlie.' He replied. Despite what he had just seen her do he felt absolutely safe in her presence and some how knew she meant him absolutely no harm. Which was an odd sensation for Charlie, even under normal circumstances.

  'It's very nice to meet you Charlie. You can tell me exactly what happened once you've been to the hospital.'

  'Why would I want to go to hospital?'

  'No reason, apart from the fact that you have two large pieces of glass stuck in you and your left arm is fractured in three separate places.'

  'I'm not in any pain.'

  'That Charlie is because of the anaesthetic effect of all the adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream. Which should wear off just about … now.'

  'Holy shit, that bloody hurts!!'

  'In which case let's get you to the hospital.'

  'Natasha, can I ask you a question?'

  'Yes Charlie, of course you can.'

  'What are you Natasha?'

  'I'm special, I'm very special indeed Charlie.'

  'That's not a proper answer to my question.'

  'I know Charlie, but if I gave you one you'd never believe me.' 
© Copyright 2009 kyrrith (kyrrith at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1620448-Songs-We-Cant-Hear-Pt-1