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Still want new blood? I have been observing a few weeks and I think I am ready. I will try not being bad. Try. Give me a job. In. Edit: Does Voidmart close or is it open 24/7? unburied fucked around with this message at 22:39 on Jun 30, 2015 |
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Jun 30, 2015 22:31
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Caroline 1,292 Words ( Donald began his evening shift in the usual way. He stood in the center of an aisle and stared into the distance. He took this time to make a new estimate of how far the other end of the Voidmart was from Baby Supplies. Today’s calculation came to three thousand fifty-two feet. He knew he could find the exact number by checking the building plans at city hall, but knowing might ease his punishment. “Excuse me!” An obese woman pushed past with three children in tow and, Donald guessed, another on the way. Awoken from his trance and in pain, he steadied himself against a nearby box; his arthritic knees were not prepared for the jolt. After regaining his composure, he gently walked to the end of the aisle and nearly collided with a young woman coming around the corner with a shopping cart. A one-year-old child sat in the cart containing a few foodstuffs and two forty-eight packs of Budweiser, one of which was open and short a can. “I’m sorry. My fault,” Donald said. “It’s okay,” she replied, pushing stray, obviously dyed, blonde hair behind her ear. She saw his vest. “Which aisle has disposable diapers?” Donald started to answer, but became distracted when he found the missing beer. The blonde woman’s husband turned the corner with Bud-in-hand, and clearly not his first of the day. “Excuse me, sir. You cannot drink that in here.” Donald masked his disgust with propriety. “Come on,” the husband said, “I’m gonna pay for it and it’s not hurting anyone.” Donald intimately knew the harm alcohol could do. “I will call security if I have to.” “Fine, you win old man.” He chugged the rest of the beer and tossed the empty can on the tile floor. “Happy?” Donald, anything but happy, redirected his attention to the blonde woman. “The disposable diapers are two aisles over.” “Let’s go,” the husband said, rushing ahead. The blond woman started to leave, but Donald felt compelled. He needed to say something, but not for her sake, her husband’s, or even her one-year-old son’s. He did not do it for reasons of self-satisfaction or altruism, but because his penance required it. “You should leave him,” he said quietly. “What?” “It would be better for everyone involved if you left now,” he continued quietly. Her voice grew louder. “What the gently caress do you know?” “I’ve lived it. I know a lot.” “Not when to mind your own business.” She turned her cart and attempted to storm off, but he held his hand up to halt her. “At least… don’t let him drive,” Donald said. “gently caress off.” ****** Mike arrived thirty minutes later. “Again Don?” Donald shrugged at the Department Manager. Mike smiled. “Did you really tell this one to leave her husband?” “I suppose I did.” Mike stifled a laugh before his voice took a more sober tone. “I did what I could, but she made quite the scene, Don. I had to let her make a formal complaint to management.” “Second time?” “Third time. It has been a while though, and they make lots of allowances for senior employees. I’ll put in a word.” “Thanks Mike.” Donald was relieved. He needed the job, not only for the money, but because he deserved it. ****** Hours passed as Donald organized, restocked, price-checked, and located products for the customers. He was absent-mindedly rearranging jars of mashed peas when he noticed a girl looking intently at formula. She was thin and no older than eighteen, but even at a distance her exhausted expression exposed her as a new mother. As he approached, Donald noticed she even resembled his own daughter. It pained him when he saw the girl wore more than worry and sleepless nights on her face. She looked defeated. “Is something wrong?” Donald asked, as he put a hand on her shoulder. The girl turned to see the kindly looking old man beside her and, crying, hugged him. He stood with his arms awkwardly raised at his sides as his heart broke for the girl sobbing into his chest. He would have let the moment last forever, but he was not worthy. “I’m sorry,” she said, releasing him and wiping away tears. “Donald,” he said, gesturing to his nametag while holding out his hand. “Samantha—Sam.” She shook his hand. “Mind telling me what is wrong, Sam?” “Oh, everything,” she said. Sam told him about the newborn daughter, the problems finding a job, the boyfriend that left, and the strained relationship with her mother. Her story took ten minutes, but Baby Supplies on a late Sunday evening protected them from interruption. The story did not matter to Donald. He resolved to help her as soon as he saw the way she looked. “Could you do me a favor by coming to the store before it opens tomorrow morning?” “Why?” “I still have things from when my daughter was a baby,” he lied, “you can have them.” “Are you sure?” “Meet me in the parking lot before my morning shift. I have the maroon Camry.” “Thank you. You are very kind,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. He shook her hand. “Tomorrow morning. Just before eight.” “I’ll be there,” she said before leaving. Donald did not have things from his daughter’s infancy. He threw most of them away half a century ago and the divorce took care of the rest. With Voidmart closing in thirty minutes, he was left with little time to prepare. After a stroll over to Sporting Goods, he returned to Baby Supplies having surreptitiously acquired a black ski mask. He looked up and studied the domed ceiling of the Voidmart for the rest of his shift. He was ready. ****** Donald had discovered several blind spots among the security cameras, but only one where Voidmart security personnel were unlikely to sweep before leaving. There he waited until midnight. When his nerves finally settled, he removed his Voidmart vest, donned the ski mask, and began a shopping spree. Two shopping carts brimmed with baby supplies from diapers and formula to a lightweight crib. He wanted to take more, but he could barely manage to push the two carts as they were. Fortunately, an emergency exit in Baby Supplies provided a swift escape to his Camry. He pushed open the doors, knowing they would activate an alarm, but he was gone before the police arrived. ****** The next morning, Sam arrived in the Voidmart parking lot as agreed and Donald gave her all the supplies he had stolen the night before. It was his greatest act yet, but it was not enough. He demanded much more of himself. When she asked why there were so many new items, he claimed he had bought a lot of them. Being an old man, he had more income than he needed so he did something good with it. She believed it. The morning shift proved difficult for Donald. Moonlighting as a thief afforded him little sleep and his whole body ached. There were opportunities to make amends, but he was too tired to seize them. It surprised him when Mike approached without a hint of his usual jovial nature. “Don, security asked me to get you,” Mike said. Donald worried his penance was over as Mike led him to the security office. As they passed a sign that read ALL SHOPLIFTERS WILL BE PROSECUTED, he felt as though he might vomit. “Apparently a bunch of merchandise was stolen. The guy wore a mask and they wanted to know if you saw anything during your shift last night.” A wave of relief washed over Donald. His punishment might continue and he could someday redeem himself for what happened to Caroline.
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Jul 6, 2015 04:58
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In. And I hope I don't regret this, flash me. Thanks for the crits Ska.
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Jul 7, 2015 20:55
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The Missing Lord 1522 words A serving girl approached a pair sitting at a tavern table, “Haven’t seen you two in here before. What’ll you have?” “Well then, allow me to introduce us,” the man said, gesturing theatrically, “I am Daren and this is my wife, Keila. We arrived in Covina but three nights ago and are looking for mercenary work. Keila is an expert tracker and no woman alive is better with a bow. I, on the other hand, am a man of many talents. Would you happen to know of anyone in need of our services?” The serving girl managed a puzzled look in reply. “I suppose not.” Daren continued, “How would you like a job?” “A job?” “Why yes! To start, bring us two tankards of mead.” He leaned in but made little effort to lower his voice, “And you may later continue to bring them to the room I have rented upstairs.” Flushed with embarrassment, the serving girl glanced at Keila before hurrying away. “Pathetic attempt,” Keila said, punching Daren in the arm. “Not my best, but I’ll catch up,” he replied. “Never happen.” While waiting for their drinks, the moment Keila dreaded arrived. Four well-armed palace guards entered the tavern and approached. Rumors about Daren’s past as a second-story man had caught up with them again. Expecting to be driven from Covina, Keila was surprised when the guards presented a letter to Daren. Daren and Keila Spire: Lord Salvar Blackridge invites you to his palace to discuss a private matter. The presence of the guards made the letter a demand, not an invitation. ***** The guards escorted Daren and Keila into Lord Blackridge’s solar. Lord Blackridge sat in a chair, a chamber pot at his side. He waved the guards away. “Lord Blackridge,” Daren said, beginning his theatrics, “this is Keila, and I am—“ “I know who you and your lowborn wife are, wayward son of House Spire.” Lord Blackridge coughed and spit humors into the chamber pot. “Unfortunately I am in need of your kind, but I cannot tell you the details until you accept. Just know that it is dangerous, pays well, and discretion is a requirement.” “We accept,” Daren said. Lord Blackridge struggled to speak. “My son, and sole heir, disappeared. I have reason to believe he was abducted by the Cult of Cancri. My health complicates matters so I have trusted few with the knowledge of my son’s abduction. If word were to spread, Covina’s merchant ‘sealords’ might attempt to overthrow my rule. I would trust outsiders with this task before my army.” Daren took a step forward and bowed, “I fail to see the how we are meant to deal with the cultists. Keila could track them, but they are known warlocks. I am afraid we—“ “Did you think I hired only you?” Lord Blackridge said. ***** Daren and Keila arrived separately at the outskirts of Covina to find a man and woman waiting for them. The man stood a heavily muscled seven feet, wore exquisite plate armor, and had a great sword slung across his back. An open-faced helmet revealed his unappealing face with a scar extending from his mouth down his chin. The woman’s face was well-featured, but her brown hair was a tangled, mess. She wore a plain brown shift that failed to hide her unhealthily thin body. Tucked into her rope belt was a sculpture made of wood and bone. The sea caves where the cult made their home were some distance from Covina. Daren and Keila spent much of the first day getting to know their allies. Daren efforts earned a name from the giant, Johann, and that he was the trusted captain of Lord Blackridge’s guard. “I have never seen armor such as that Johann. How did you come by it?” Daren said. “I have never seen a man carry a hundred feet of rope and three daggers, but I do not ask him why.” Johann said. “The rope is for climbing.” Daren drew two daggers with a flourish. “These two are ordinary daggers, but this,” he said, sheathing a dagger and drawing the third, “is a sword-breaker.” “I did not ask.” Johann said. Keila’s attempts to learn about the woman were even less successful. “What is your name?” she asked. “You may call me witch, many do,” the woman said. The rest of Keila’s questions were met with silence. Night fell and the group made camp. The cold sea air made the night miserable, but Keila used it as an opportunity by sitting next to Johann. His cleverly constructed armor had let him strip to his gambeson without any help. She leaned on his quilted shoulder, “I’m cold.” Daren watched Keila’s theatre with mounting frustration. She risked exposing their relationship to the others, but, more importantly, she reminded him of how poorly he played the game. Daren was about to concede when Johann, with considerable force, tossed Keila off his arm. “Not interested.” Johann said. Daren could not resist the urge to laugh while Keila, slightly embarrassed, picked herself up moved to the other side of camp. She took the first watch in what was an otherwise uneventful night. In the morning, Johann armored himself without help while Daren and the witch packed camp. Keila scouted and came back having found the trail of the cult. While they followed her lead, Daren tried to learn more about the witch. “Even witches must have names. Don’t tell me, I have a knack for these things. Mildred? Agnes? No, Gertrude? I have it, Ursula.” Each name brought more annoyance to the witch’s face. “Selene,” she relented. “Now there is a name that matches your beauty, what was I thinking?” Daren smiled and Selene returned it. “Curses and hexes are the specialty of witches?” “Yes.” “So should any curses result of our partnership, you would be able to lift them?” Selene found Daren’s attention irresistibly charming, but an arrow whistled between their heads interrupting their conversation. Selene drew her charm and brandished it at Keila, “Marae sc—“ Daren clasped his hand over her mouth and knocked the charm from her hand. “I’m terribly sorry Selene, but you have been a victim of a game my wife and I play. We compete to the other jealous and that was Keila’s way of telling me I have earned a point.” The trail led Keila to a cliff face. Keila put finger to her mouth then whispered, “The trail continues around, but they are in a cave above.” “We climb,” Daren whispered. Daren deftly scaled the cliff face freehand. He found an anchor and tossed his rope down for the others. Selene struggled to make the climb, while the armored Johann expended minimal effort. The sea cave expanded into a cavern, where the group found and carefully observed the cultists. There were only five of them, but two hulking crab beasts followed them as they moved. A boy was strapped to an altar. Selene broke her silence. “The two with the crabs are warlocks, I can suppress their magicks, but the crabs will become untethered and wild.” Selene casted a hex, disrupting the warlock’s spells. The crabs stopped moving and the cavern filled with confusion for a moment before mayhem broke out. The warlocks tried in vain to regain control of their thralls. One crab grasped a cultists’ leg in its claw, pulling him off his feet, before severing it. Keila fired a barrage of arrows, killing three cultists. Johann charged into the fray and drove his great sword through the shoulder of a cultist, burying it to the sternum. Daren approached the unoccupied crab but found its lateral movement too quick to get behind. He readied his climbing rope in an attempt to tangle the crab’s legs, when Johann appeared behind the crab and smashed through its carapace with a heavy blow. The remaining crab, content with dismembering the cultist, remained oblivious before suffering a similar fate from Johann’s sword. Johann freed the boy from the altar and called out, “Check him witch.” Selene knelt over Lord Blackridge’s son, inspecting him for harm. “Don’t!” Daren yelled, but his plea went unheeded. Johann, in a single motion of his sword, killed Selene and the young lord. “When did the sealords buy you?” Daren asked. “How?” Johann asked. “I have never known a captain of the guard who could afford mythril armor.” Daren said. Daren drew his dagger and sword-breaker. Keila tried to move into a position where she could get a shot at Johann’s exposed face, but he continually repositioned himself so Daren was always between them. Johann lunged at Daren who nimbly pirouetted, parrying the attack. The sword-breaker caught Johann’s blade, but sword and wielder were too strong, and it wrenched itself from Daren’s grasp. Now with his back to Keila, Johann felt the sting of an arrow hit below his shoulder. He turned to charge Keila, but Daren jumped on his back and drove a dagger under his helmet and into his skull, killing Johann. Daren looked around at the carnage surrounding them, “Do you think Lord Blackridge will still pay?”
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Jul 13, 2015 07:58
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