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Short Story Sunday {Week 1}

Welcome to the first week of Short Story Sunday! Here I’ll be debuting new material written by yours truly. Hopefully, I’ll be posting earlier than I am tonight most weeks. (Then again, I usually won’t be doing two posts in one day like today.)

With just a little more ado, I give you Week 1! The majority of it will be under the cut, because it’s longer than a normal post would be.

3 Guys with Guns, 1 Girl with Nothing

Her eyes fluttered a bit as she
returned to consciousness. When they opened for good, she couldn’t help but
take shallow breaths while her eyes flung around the hollow space. A storage container? she asked herself
groggily. It had to be one. The metal rectangle held nothing at all, other than
four people: three men who stood a few yards away from the door, and her, who
crouched a few yards away in one corner. The container’s door opened to the
darkness yards behind the men.

A lump formed in her throat as panic
began to set in. Breathe calmly, she
commanded herself. Breathe. Normally.
It worked, at least a little bit. But her palms felt damp, and she wiped them
on her jeans as discreetly as possible. All three men smirked at her when she
did. They knew she was unsettled.
The smirks or the fact that the men
blocked her exit from the back of the container didn’t bother her. The guns
also held no effect – for some reason, 9 mm handguns didn’t frighten her. From
the boom of thunder and pitter-patter of rain on the metal roof, she knew one
heck of a storm was afoot outside, but that didn’t bother her, either. She
crouched in a storage container in the dead of night, trapped, but that didn’t
bother her.
She wracked her brain for an
explanation of how she got in the storage container in the first place, but
lacked any possible answer. Probably because when she tried to remember
anything at all, she came up blank. Nothing. That bothered her.
She swallowed again, and looked
around hastily, taking stock of her surroundings. She needed a plan. She’d
figure out the rest later.
“There’s no way to escape, you
know,” the guy on the right said, reading her thoughts. “Even if you got past
us and got out of the container, you’d never escape the compound. You would be
found and punished,” he said, as though speaking to a child. “So let’s just
make this easy for all of us.”
She didn’t like Gun Guy #1.
And apparently her face showed it.
Gun Guy #2, standing in the middle of the three, hastily jumped into the
conversation. “I know this is hard for you, but it really is for the best. Just
stand up slowly and quietly, and hold your hands behind your back. We’re going
to take you somewhere else, somewhere better, but we have to ensure that you
won’t do anything stupid along the way.” His logical argument – at least, it
seemed like it might be logical – but didn’t convince her.
“You want me to voluntarily give up?
When you could be taking me anywhere at all? Even to my own death?” Her raised
eyebrow matched her voice, making her opinion of the proposition very clear. “I
don’t think so.”
Gun Guy #1 snarled and started to
move closer towards her, attempting to close the couple of yards between them.
Before he got very far, Gun Guy #2 grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “I’d be
happy to make you come with us,” Gun
Guy #1 spat around #2’s arm, although he probably wanted to shoot her instead.
Still, she didn’t care. The guns
meant nothing to her.
Instead, she met his gaze head on,
cocked her head, and smiled condescendingly. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she
Gun Guy #1 threw off Gun Guy #2’s
cautionary arm, strode toward her quickly, and got right in her face, gun
must look like quite the pair
, she thought. There she crouched, a teenage
girl covered in dirt and bruises, sitting back on her heels on the cold, hard bottom
of the metal storage container. In front of her stood a burly guy, no older
than twenty-five, with five o’clock shadow and lean, well-defined muscles. He
held a gun to her face as he stood over her, and when he smirked she could have
sworn he gloated over the position she was in. Still, she didn’t care.
She had no idea how long they
stayed like that, but it couldn’t have been very long. Eventually, a bored
voice droned from her left, “Why are you even doing that? She’s not worth the
attention. She’s just A Package. Let’s put this ridiculous sham behind us
Both Gun Guy #1 and she turned to
stare at Gun Guy #3. He gestured with his gun while he spoke, no emotion
evident in his voice or face other than boredom. “This is unnecessary. Get the
goddam girl and let’s go. You can go to the gun range after she’s delivered,
Zig, and shoot some dummies. Same thing.”
Her shock over how little Gun Guy #3
cared inhibited her. Before she knew it, Gun Guy #1 – Zig? – grabbed her arms
roughly, thrust them behind her back, and dragged her upright. To be fair, she got
some pretty good kicks in along the way, once she came to her senses. “Let’s
go, sweetheart,” he hissed in her ear. His breath smelled of cheese, and her
automatic reaction was to wrench her face away from his.
Pleased, he grinned to himself. But
as he pushed her forward, she tripped a little, intentionally. This made him
stumble, too, and she used her body weight to throw herself to the side,
freeing herself of his grasp, and slamming her shoulder into his face in the
process. Her hands still secured behind her back, she stood to face Gun Guy #2
and #3. At least she stood closer to the open door than before. Gun Guy #2 kept
looking between her and the door, his brow knitted together, but #3 just looked
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered,
keeping he gun lax.
“Am I keeping you from something?”
she asked #3 sweetly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zig holding his
There was blood. “The Package broke
my nose!” he yelled thickly. Blood distorted the sound of his words, but she
still understood him.
Blood. She swayed a little, but it
was barely visible to the men, while she blinked slowly, trying to clear her
mind. The blood covered his face. His hands. His arms.
she thought, shaking her head. Zig wasn’t actually bleeding that much.
#2 and #3 stared at her as her
inability to stand grew more visible. Their hesitation lasted only a moment,
and then they rushed her.
Every other time that she blinked,
she saw blood everywhere. On the curtains, the Oriental rug. But the storage
container held neither.
The blood was everywhere, and she
struggled to fight the darkness closing in on her. When she could see, all she
saw was blood. As she gave in, the last thing she heard before everything
disappeared was #3 speaking into a phone.
“We’ve got her. We have H in our
Well, what did you think? Let me know in the comments! I’ll be posting more next Sunday. #whoisH
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