Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2151042-To-The-End-Prologue
Rated: E · Novel · Action/Adventure · #2151042
The prologue to the first novel in my trilogy

         I'm one of a kind. I've lived a long time, with who knows how much more time to live. I've seen it all, from the most gruesome battles to all Seven Wonders of the World. I've been residing in the shadows, hidden from the world up until recently. Now, here I am, with this beautiful reporter, here to get my life story for what is going to have to be a T.V. mini-series.

         "Before we begin I would like to thank you for agreeing to this interview Mr. Silver." She looked around and added, "This is quite an extravagant home you have." She then sized me up, "Don't you think you might have overdressed?"

         Sierra Morning, the country's most renowned deliverer of news. If there's a story that could potentially be the year's biggest, she'll be the first on the scene to investigate. She's beautifully commanding, the kind of person that makes you straighten your back when she enters a room. As a child her father put her through multiple martial arts and other combat classes. Last year she sent some muggers to the hospital with baton injuries. Just over thirty, Sierra causes heads to turn as she captivates you with her soft brown eyes that compliment her flowing brown hair. Despite her gorgeous appearance and medium build, Sierra Morning is not to be taken lightly.

         "Thank you for noticing. One could say I dress to impress regardless of my whereabouts." I never know who I might bump into and I have always made sure to make the best possible first impression. At the moment, I was wearing a navy-blue suit vest over top of a popped white collared shirt with dark blue jeans and loafers.

         I gestured to the couch, "Please take a seat, and you can call me Danny." After a narrow-eyed look of disapproval it was evident she wanted to keep things formal. "You and your cameraman buddy can make yourselves at home. This interview is going to take a long time." After Sierra took a seat, the cameraman set up, "This is going to be the story of your life, and probably the century. Would you like some coffee Si- I mean Miss Morning?" I think I could see a smile creeping onto her face, then we made eye contact and she quickly wiped the smile away.

         "No thank you." Sierra placed her bag on her lap. "And somehow I doubt that this will be the story of my life. I have reported on a lot of breaking news that would make anyone else's career." What she said was true; she had written and published many stories that would have satisfied any other reporter, but not her. She set out her personal recorder and laid out her notepad.

         I walked to the thermos on the counter to pour coffee for two as I replied, "Oh I know, I carefully chose the reporter that would bring me into the public eye. I did some of my own research and I must say, you have had an impressive career." She stopped going through her bag to take in what I had just said. "You began your career in L.A.; as a lowly newspaper columnist and speedily rose to the top as an investigative reporter. Once you quickly learned everything there is to know over there, you came to The Big Apple for a new challenge." I looked over my shoulder to see a surprised and slightly violated look fall upon her face.

         "Sounds like you have looked into my life a bit, but we are here for you, Mr. Silver. You seem to be the one with the extraordinary life." She paused when she saw me sit a filled-to-the-brim coffee cup on the table in front of her then continued, "Thank you."

         She raised a finger to her cameraman and a green light on the camera flicked to life. "I'd like to thank you again Mr. Silver for meeting with me for this story." I nodded and let her continue. "Rumor has it you've lived longer than most, and hid it from the world. After World War Two you decided to stop hiding and let more and more people find out you existed as time went on, receiving hardly any recognition, and until now you have not agreed to an interview." Sierra had an inquisitive look on her face, as if to question why.

         "You forgot the part about being a crazy rich business man." I don't think she thought that was funny, she didn't smile, or break the lock she had on my eyes. I steadily returned her gaze as I announced, "I'm also a genius. I'm sure you have my school records in your mess of papers there somewhere. I used my real name in school." That broke her stare, as she shuffled through her archive of information. She pulled out a few papers to read from.

         "You've graduated in the top of your class from a lot of schools. Most remarkably, Harvard medical and business school. Care to explain how you managed that?" Raising her eyebrows, Sierra looked back up at me and crossed her arms, as a mother would when questioning her child.

         "There's nothing to explain. When you've lived as long as I have you learn everything as it's discovered. It's much easier than learning it in the time given at a school. As far as business goes, I guess I sort of always had a knack for it." Even though I've lived for hundreds of years I'm still far from knowing everything. I'm still learning new things all the time.

         "Do you own or run any business's yourself?"

         I took a sip of my coffee, "As a matter of fact I'm the founder of four Fortune 500 companies and I still own them." Sierra took note of what I was saying. "Due to the sensitive nature and private methods in which I have remained in control of these companies I cannot reveal which ones they are or what it is they do."

         "Are you sure there is nothing that you can share about these four companies?"

         I smiled, "All I can tell you is that as of right now they are among the top three-hundred on the Fortune 500 list." I turned and looked into the camera, "To anyone out there that might try to find out which ones they are I have taken many precautions, so that you can't and you won't."

         Sierra unfolded her arms and rested her elbows on her knees. She was intrigued, "It takes a long time for anyone to achieve such accomplishments. Answer me this, the big question everyone wants to know: when and where you were born exactly?"

         Sierra clearly wanted to know this more than anything else. Her body showed an intense eagerness as she awaited my answer. "I was born in New York, I'll tell you when, if you agree to a date with me." I watched as Sierra leaned back with wide eyes and began laughing aloud, as if I had actually said something funny.

         "You have got to be joking." Without even turning her head, she pointed at her cameraman and demanded, "Delete that from the footage. You are joking right?" The expression on her face was a mixture of flattery and shock, as her eyes pierced mine.

         I set my mug down on the table, looked her right in her eyes, with a straight face and firmly answered her question, "No, I'm not joking."

         Sierra seemed to ponder the thought of a date. There was an unmistakable glint of desire in her eyes as she replied, "Hmm. Alright, tell me when you were born and I might consider having lunch." I was satisfied with a maybe. "Besides, aren't you a little old for me?"

         "It's fine. I don't mind dating younger women." She smiled at that. "I was born in 1669." Sierra's smile vanished into awe as her even eyes quickly widened and the cameraman's jaw dropped.

         I looked at both of their astonished faces, "Why the wide eyes and the gaping mouth? What did you think this interview was for?" I smiled and looked right at Sierra, "So how about that date?"

         Sierra's face returned to normal. "It's just that it's not often you meet someone nearly three-hundred and fifty years old. We'll get back to the date later." Sierra leaned forward once more. "But first, tell me, who are you?"

© Copyright 2018 Kenneth_R (danielsilver 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/item_id/2151042-To-The-End-Prologue