In Check

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

The first few pages of my stor.y
Kevin knows how important his job is. He helps put criminals away. Now, he is very ill.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - In Check

Submitted: February 11, 2012

Reads: 117

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Submitted: February 11, 2012



They watched him, shaking and rubbing his sweaty palms together. His jaw was clenched so tight that his face vibrated and made his eyes bulge from their sockets. His hands moved up to hold his untidy face, clawing at his forehead and gripping onto chunks of hair. They all noticed he was mumbling something, in they that his lips quivered fast, biting onto his bottom lip and breathing in for a second of air. He was rocking almost. Back and forth, back and forth at an incredible pace. The moaning grew loader now, everyone could hear. His throat let out a thick groan. “Save me, please save me, don’t damn me”! The rest of the words crumbled underneath the heavy growls that roared to the ceiling in suspense.

 Looking at him was a horrifying site, if it wasn’t for the guards at each side of him, everyone would have been piling out the door in frenzy. The man was unwell, we all knew the obvious, but, was it possible to explode in an uncontrollable madness? This man was going to blow!


“Put cuffs on him, quick you lazy idiots”! Someone shoved past the stunned crowd and elbowed the backs of every standing figure in front of him. Kevin Rogers stepped back and flew out the door. Away from the crowd and away from the insane monster that left the room of people in utter disbelief. “I’m going to chuck”. He mumbled to himself under his breath. He was heaving and coughing and almost seemed to be spinning round in circles. Holding his hand over his mouth, he let out a violent spoil of this morning’s breakfast and what seemed to be blood. Not caring if anybody saw him in this state, he slumped back against the wall beside the mess he had made and banged his head a few times to let out some frustration. How could he do his job? Not like this. Without even expecting it, he bent over, with a hard jolt from his guts.


Kevin woke up to find he was lying in an unsavory liquid. No one had found him still and he was utterly mortified that nothing had changed. He must have passed out for only a few minutes. Shouts were still vibrating down the corridor and little chatters could be heard as well. Now Kevin would have to somehow standup, process the situation and very likely, vomit again. As much as he would like to pass out again, be found and put to bed by helping hands, he didn’t think he could stand the rearing pain from the pit of his stomach for a third time. The disgusted look on his face only showed more vividly the position he was in. Lying face down in his own bitter tasting soup. Oh, he almost forgot, he was in his favorite suit. It was in that moment of realization that he struggled back to the second stage of sitting before he let himself go for the second time and inspected things. They were bad. The prospect of him standing was absurd. He felt woozy and befuddled as if he had been on the drink and the floor was smothered in a bloody, yellow that wafted up a sickening scent. He removed his hands and wiped them on. Shit, he forgot about his suit. His dark navy, impeccable fit suit and he had just done the dirty to it. I should have gone for gray was Kevin’s first thought on everything he had just experienced in the last ten minutes. “Well” He told himself enthusiastically. “It could be worse”. He grinned at the feeling of being absent from the presence of people.

The humor he felt however gave him that bit of energy that he needed to stand. He was laughing like a mad man in the accomplishment but halted to a stop when he returned to the word “mad man”. “Oh hell” he said in grievance. He noticed that no yelling was coming from the door that he left ever more urgently from some time ago. That told Kevin that he was cuffed and probably, from what he saw before he staggered away gagging, that he was injected. He had never seen a man act that way. A complete and utter maniac! Getting lost in this memory of the man who he just watched spill fireballs of sweat, made him escape the feeling of being very ill and rather tied from heaving his insides onto the floor. That was when the door to the room Kevin left from opened. A white suited man came out first, dragging a man who was dribbling at the mouth and twitching in the figures by the shoulders. He was bald, eyes shut but the memory of hazel came to mind while looking at his eyelids. A tattoo that Kevin couldn’t clearly make out, covered half his pale, fat, round face and his body was undoubtedly massive, bulky and chubby. Kevin watched the way his fingers twitched and even counted the seconds it took for them to twitch again. His constant loss of memory prevented him of realizing that there were people staring at him in horror. The two men, in the white suits who were carrying the beast were starting wide eyed at Kevin and then, oh he forgot about the mess on the floor. He wished to be passed out again, having no idea of what was going on and let people sort himself out because now he knew he would have to talk and explain what happened. The man on the left holding the twitching feet had his hair slung back in a ponytail. Kevin noticed that all his features were small. He was tanned with brown eyes and a pointy witch’s nose. Rather ugly Kevin thought but he didn’t care about appearances right now. He saw him mutter the word “Gross” as he looked at Kevin’s feet and surroundings. Kevin caught a glimpse of the one holding the shoulders and the light hit him oddly, making him look like a deformed ape. He decided that these thoughts were a bit mean considering they were not there to get scouted as male models.

Here he stood now, in front of two men, make that three, who looked at him like him was a zombie who had just had a meal of human guts. A sentence of words bubbled to Kevin’s mouth but he swallowed them back. He was going to say “It’s not what it looks like” but without a shadow of a doubt it certainly was. As much as Kevin wanted them to walk on with their beefy package he knew that the suited men would now call people to give him some assistance. He was very sick, behind the mask of ‘being caught in the moment’ his insides were rolling around in the very center of his belly. The men in front of him would only see the ashamed face of Kevin and the sea of blood and vomit that lay around him.

“Are you okay”? The man who stood in the funny light spoke. He didn’t look like an ape anymore. He had a hard, locked jaw which showed his very rectangular shaped face. Kevin let out a breath and held the urge to say “please, go away” instead he said, with a tiny wobble in his body, “I’m fine”. That was stupid considering there was evidence to present otherwise. He continued stubbornly “I felt like this when I woke up, just a bit of a bug that’s all, anyway you men might want to get on”. He was surprised at the steadiness of his voice but his limp arms and legs told a different story. The white suited men then took notice of the blimp they held in their arms. They must have been heavy weight lifters to hold the beast and have a conversation. The one with the hard face didn’t look a tiny bit swayed with the size of him. Kevin looked at his arms and chest and made out that he was rather large himself. On the other end the man holding the feet started to shake a little in the hands.

“We will get someone to help you” from under his witch nose his mouth moved. He obviously wanted to get a move on. “No, no, no please” Kevin urgently said as they backed their way like a forklift through the door. “I’m fine, honestly, let me clean up. I can do it; they won’t like being disturbed anyway”. Both men thought about it, looked at the mess and then backed their way to where they had come from. “I think you need help” said the man holding the shoulders.


They were gone and Kevin was alone in the corridor, sick and standing in nasty slop. He wouldn’t have done the same thing he thought. When a man says he doesn’t need help, that’s final.

The day hurried on as Kevin lay in the hospital bed, bucket in hand. He felt sorry for the janitor who had to clean up his mess in the court room corridor. He would have done it himself if he didn’t pass out again at the site of a number of people coming to his aid. At least he was clean but he swore he could smell a pitch of sick in the air. The doctor would be back soon with his test results and then he would estimate the time it would take to fix him up and stop this violent vomiting and weak feeling. It had been like this for four weeks but Kevin went on with daily routine without a thought. It was this morning that he felt worse than ever. He could not avoid going to work. He considered himself one of the most important people in the world.

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