Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1018487-A-hero-story-Part-1
by Sykes
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Thriller/Suspense · #1018487
This is the prelude chapter, to a story I am thinking of carrying on. R&R please
A soft breeze blew down the street, bringing an early winter chill with it. The sole person walking in the street pulled his jacket tighter over his large frame. He stopped walking, and stood in the middle of the street as he examined a small piece of paper. He quickly folded it carefully and placed it back into his jacket pocket. The man stared intently from building to building. He walked faster down the street, head sweeping from left to right. Near the end of the street he stopped, his attention fixed on an old brick house. The last dead leaves of the season crunched underfoot as he climbed the steps leading to the door. He firmly knocked and waited as the door opened slowly to reveal a kind-looking woman. She only briefly needed to look at him before she smiled broadly. ¨Come in, ¨ she said, ¨She’s waiting inside.¨

The door to the brick house opened once more revealing a warm light from inside which shone onto the street. The snow that had fallen since he had entered the house was illuminated brightly by the light. Both the man and young girl stepped outside and down to the pavement together. The woman stepped outside her door, smiling at the two.

¨I wish you the best of luck, ¨ she said.

She then quickly looked both ways, before slamming the door. Locks clicking into place broke the silence of the twilight.

Feathery snow began to fall around the pair.

¨Well, I guess it´s time to go home, ¨ he said, warming his hands in his steaming breath.

¨Where is home then? ¨ the little girl beside him asked angrily, ¨And where have you been? What happened to my mother and why did you go!¨

He merely looked at her intently, before walking away and beginning to laugh,¨You are just like her..¨ Scowling at his back, she ran after him.
And they followed...

The man grasped the girl’s hand tightly, pulling her faster than she could walk. ¨Quickly, ¨ he muttered, ¨we are being followed.¨
The two of them ducked down alleyways and side streets to escape before coming to a stop in an unused alley. Red neon light flooded the scene. Red neon light flooded the scene. Footsteps pounded behind them, followed by a decisive laugh that cracked through the air ahead of them. Trapped. The laughter gained a body; a tall frame with undistinguishable features apart from shining eyes from the heavy overcoat.

¨You really can’t escape, Logan, ¨ the figure said, ¨Oh and you brought a little girl along too, a play toy? ¨ His voice was muffled by the scarf obscuring his face and the wide brimmed hat he wore.

Logan snorted, grinding teeth together and cracking joints. ¨Leave her, you want me.¨

¨Too true Logan, but the boys here might want her. After all, girls become women, ¨ the figure drawled, turning to the men beside him, ¨Do what you want, but keep them alive.¨ He then slid back into the shadows where he came from, the glow of his eyes fading in the shadows.

Logan shook in anger, as if the rage would literally burst out. ¨How dare you...¨ The words nearly lost in a primal cry.

He picked up the girl and charged the group closest to the street. Fists and clubs rained down on his body, yet still he crashed through. He slammed bodies off to the side using his one available arm. He pushed through the chaos and made it to the street.
He placed the girl down, he looked her in the eyes, ¨Run.¨ He turned away from her, and couldn´t see what she did next.
¨Don’t be a hero¨ someone cried, just he threw himself back into the alley. Armed and armoured with fury, he attacked all that moved, but the men just kept coming...

Bodies and parts of them lay scattered like leaves. Logan crawled. Using his remaining arm, the other was bent the wrong way. He pulled himself out to the street. He collapsed in the snow, unable to move.
¨What’s a hero worth, if they end up like me, ¨ he asked himself, ¨I don’t even know if she got away.¨ He closed his eyes, one still brown, and one now red. Sleep seemed so comforting.

¨Wake up, please, please wake up.¨ she shook him gently. The winter sun streamed across his once handsome face. She held him close, tears running down her face.

¨I didn’t mean to be angry; I know it wasn’t your fault. Mum,was right; you always were my hero Daddy!¨ She held on to him tightly and turned her head once more toward the alley, and the carnage, in time to see a glimmering eye and a heavy coat fading into the morning mist.

© Copyright 2005 Sykes (silourie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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