1. Jack Reave Lockwood

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


Recently I started posting random short stories on wattpad. Since I never manage to finish a bigger project. This is first of such shorter stories and it tells of a man backed in the corner. Man
who tried to run from death, but in the end death caught up with him. Enjoy the story

Submitted: May 11, 2018

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Submitted: May 11, 2018

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Oi! Reave!", he heared deep growl of a voice from outside. Ironside, must be. "I know you are in there! Come on out so we can settle this!" He knew no door could hold Ironside for too long. What he needed was a plan and he needed it fast. He looked around, one small window at the back, too small even for a man of his proportions. Table and a few chairs scattered around the center of the room, used propped against door they wouldn't do much. How the fuck did he end up here. "Fuck...", he cursed. But there's always a way out. There must be. Kick at the door shook him out of the thoughts. It rattled in it's frame and Reave knew doom will soon be upon him, unless he does something. "How about we talk about it?", he shouted towards the door, somehow keeping fear and panic out of it. He felt behind his back and felt the familiar shape of his dagger. Won't do much if that fool's wearing full armor again, like he always did. Laugh came from the other side of a door. "Now you wanna talk? Sorry to inform you, but Theresees said bring back the head. Nothing else." "Fuck...", he swallowed hard. Spit forming in his mouth, need for a drink strong then ever in the back of his throat. He looked once more around the room, and picked the darkest corner he could find. Unfortunately it was corner in the far back of the cabin. No running it is then. Head on and push as hard as he could. He escaped worse situations right? Never before had he felt like this, trapped in a corner like a rat, waiting for cats to ascend down on him. But even rat, when cornered, knows how to bite. He took out a dagger and pulled back as far away as he could, merging into the shadows. Right at that moment door flew open, and through it stepped two goons holding sharp axes and wearing deadly grins on their faces. They knew that whoever brings back his head would be handsomely rewarded. He could use that to his advantage, and soon he started developing a plan. "I wonder...", he spoke stepping out of the shadows. Tucking his short blade in the front where they were bound to notice his usual sharpness. "Which one of you would like to try his chances first?" But before they could get too eager he continued, "But you should remember. I'm not known for being merciful.", he flashed them a grin made of knives and put his hand on his dagger. Like his uncle used to say. Always keep your hand close to the handle. You never know when men will change from words to blades. He saw tiny signs all over them. Sweat forming on their foorheads, jaws setting hard, throats swallowing spit, hands clutching wood. But neither men moved, and Reave knew he already won first fight. One that happens way before blades start swinging. He stood there waiting, waiting for one of the men to step forward. He knew they wouldn't attack together, like an union. But would praise their lives more worthy, hindering one another for chance to be further away from the danger. Was he more successful than he intended? He stepped a step back, towards his corner. And just like that one of the men stepped forward. Setting weight down with every step, keeping eyes on Reave. But he hasn't kept his composure, so as soon as he looked back at his comrade his neck got slit open. He coughed blood and before the other man could even react Reave was on him. Stabbing him in neck, chest, arms. Slitting his blade wherever it would fit. Man was screeming, but wouldn't be for too long. Reave got up, breathing hard, wiping blood from his eyes. There in the doorway he saw a mountain of a man, with a hammer and an axe, fully clothed in armor. Man laughed, Reave swallowed hard, and there behind Ironsides shoulder he could see it. Third man walking towards shambling cabin. Man who's every step screamed death and every breath meant agony. Reave knew it was coming for him. Death was finally at his door.


© Copyright 2018 George Keeth. All rights reserved.

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