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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
An unexpected event one night gives a man, troubles which he did not want to be involved in.
The details of the characters reveal through dialogue and the action.
The mystery to be solved is not just one...

Author's note:
It has been more than 4 years since my last publishing on this page.
I was going to put this short story in a contest,
but I decided to use it for feedback.
So any feedback is appreciated ;)

Submitted: July 27, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 27, 2017






·Near by a sluggish river and a bare mountain, close to a gloomy forest, stood a cozy cabin. Every golden afternoon, on the rocking chair, sat silently Mr.Jones in his wretched porch. Valiant timeframe to enjoy a cigar or two. Mr.Jones had no clue that exactly this day which I am writing about would turn out to be a nightmare. As every afternoon even that day,  he was smoking on the porch. The acrid smell of smoke could be sniffed even by a wolf or bear close to a mile away. Mr.Jones had been lonely and secluded. This gave way to him to chain the cigars so he would end up smoking a second one. He came to realize in the middle of the second cigar that he did not actually enjoy it so without rush put it out. Slowly stood up so to enjoy the last farewell rays of sun and not to feel light-headed. Sun faded away and Mr.Jones curled his lips the same way he did everytime when witnessed this astronomical phenomenon. Trying not to be overwhelmed by the lonely pondering, faced the front door. He stayed there looking at the door, something which also did often as it seemed to him a gate to an eternal prison. Anyway Mr.Jones had been living in the cabin for almost four years so pretty much he had become one with it (as for the reasons why he was there it will be clarified or not along the story) and that is why entering did not hurt him much.


The cabin consisted of just two rooms, one suitable for a fireplace and the second suitable for sleeping. Mr.Jones spent most of his time close to the fireplace so to feed it with wood or just to stare at it and look how flames had been part of his past and also engulfed his feelings about it. Motionless legs crossed on the ground would stay,  until he would become worn out from the memories. The routine did not have much noticable changes from day to day, so he headed to his bedroom. This other door which led to bedroom seemed to him like his cell door and so he always said to himself "from a prison to prison, from isolation to isolation" and smirked. Even though unlike any real cell door this door he never fully closed so just a light push on it and he could step in. As always he looked around as expecting to find something different or something new but nothing as such was around . Since Mr.Jones could not even think anything while in bedroom, he would rush to lay in bed, close the eyes and fall asleep.


But, it had not been even one hour when together with the sound of thunder came two or three vicious knocks on the door. This noise immediately put to alert Mr.Jones whose eyes tore open and his body tensed. Left hand rushed to take the pistol under the pillow and the right hand immediately pushed him out of bed. Tiptoeing as a true master he came close to the door, which now was trembling with consequent hammering knocks. Mr Jones held the gun up towards the door and, slowly opened it so to peek on the mysterious visitor.


Mr.Jones could not speak properly the native language of the country but he had learned some words. Still, he chose not to speak awaiting the visitor to do so. From the dark a voice came :


-“Mirmrama o burr I dheut! M’ka hup baba që mram me bagti!


Mr.Jones did understand that the young said he had lost his father, so he put the gun in the holster and held the door open ajar. Looking in the young boy eyes Mr.Jones abilities to comprehend sign language could extract clear information. “ The young boy seems tense, worried, agitated, cold, tired” said Mr Jones to himself.


Besim said

-“Une quhem Besim dhe baba e ka emrin Fatmir”


When Mr.Jones heard that the boy’s name was Besim , it reminded him of the Albanian word “Besa” which means promise. Promise as one to be kept even if it means to raise from the dead to accomplish it.


The young man said –“ A e ke pa babën tim?”


Mr.Jones understood that Besim asked him if he had seen his father but he had not seen any soul roam close to his cabin for at least two months. He turned to himself: - “The rain is falling heavy and this young boy will not survive alone in the night. I better gear up and go with him. I do not see anything good at the end of this but at least I will not allow the boy to die. “ Mr.Jones made sign to Besim to wait inside and quietly walked to the basement. Everything was ready there to fully equip a person either for hunting or assassination including scopes and melee weapons. The dark green camouflage which fitted better and blended with the scenery. As always in a situation, two glocks and a double barrel shotgun could do the work thought always Mr.Jones. He decided not to offer the guest any gun since he noticed that Besim already had a rifle, native one.

With a friendly look in the face Mr.Jones told Besim with a weird accent:


 - “Shkojmë!”


It had been almost two hours of constant hiking through dense wood when Mr.Jones noticed something in the ground , which reflected the moonlight and the clouds. It was a ring, an old one not with diamonds like the ones he saw during his missions. But something was in common, the finger in the ring…away from the body or even the hand…


Quickly Mr.Jones senses raised alert! It reminded him of a mission back in Petersburg , which was blood, a lot of it…Shed for nothing but illegal diplomacy. He noticed a hand three meters away bitten by something , which resembled a shark. But this is a forest so it is either a wolf or a bear. From the dense smell of blood he knew that he would see many other pieces of the body, for sure the bear is still around he concluded…


Besim noticed the body scaterred in pieces and bowed down to earth , in shock of the happening. Mr.Jones had been scanning the whole area , while maintaining awareness and dividing odds. The bear had noticed them and was circling them in a radius covered with dense bushes and trees. It was a perfect trap for the humans chasing their companion. As soon as the bear noticing that one of them let their defense down , Mr.Jones was the enemy.


Mr.Jones noticed the bear coming at him and he knew that he could not outrun in a sprint the bear, so to dodge that seemed reasonable. The bear rushed and jumped with his massive paws . Mr. Jones tried to dodge on the left but his foot ran into a hunting trap. So the bear grabed and pinned him down while trying to bite his neck. Mr. Jones was thinking that seemed funny after all he has went through in Russia , a brown bear in Albania would outsmart him. Seemed like this was it…


In a flash, Mr.Jones did not feel the weight of at least four hundred kilograms. Something had taken the bear in a mad dash. It was Besim! He was actually trying to wrestle an adult brown bear with bare hands. The bear struggled hard but pinned down also Besim and was having a hard time finding his neck. Besim was full blown with energy mixed with a juice of a person raised in same environment as the animal, and the will of revenge.


This was not going to end well, but Mr. Jones had taken the double barrel shotgun and made a shot on the left side of the bear. The hit was so powerful that the bear fell on the right making a dull sound of a big mass falling in the ground. Besim was all covered in blood but still alive since he immediately stood up and nodded with approval to Mr. Jones.


They were both injured. Still took time to gather the pieces of the body to make a proper funeral back at the cemetery of the village. When they went back Besim explained what happened to the people , and after that taken to hospital by morning to receive medical treatment.


Mr. Jones just checked on the hospital without talking much and after one hour he met with Besim to say goodbye to him:


-“ Mirupafshim!”

Besim could not get up but he rose a bit to shake his hand and said with a firm voice:


-“Të jap besën! Do të të mbroj dhe une nga arinj vendas ose “të huaj”


Mr. Jones understood that this man had given him the traditional ultimate promise of “Besa”  to protect him from local bears and “foreign bears”. But he could not understand how this man knew about him. But it was fairly easy since Besim usually roamed through forests and rivers and had noticed in distance Mr. Jones many times. He had not wanted to greet him since it was understandable that he was trying to hide so let it be that way.


Mr. Jones was petrified thinking that if Besim had noticed him then also someone else for sure could have been watching him. Immediately he requested to go back home and insisting he was feeling well and fit. This whole story had putted everything in motion and it occurred to Mr.Jones that his house would be destroyed by the self-destruct mechanism that he had programmed to get rid of traces in cases he would not go back. By evening he was almost there but when he saw the clock it was too late so he expected to see the cabin on fire. Actually the cabin was as he had left him, intact.


Mr.Jones slowed his pace he knew that something must be inside which has activated the motion sensors leading to an abort of the self-destructing mechanism. The front door was open but not the bedroom one. Lightly pushed it and too late realized that he had no gun with him. Entered the room and it seemed as everything was in place. But not the chair which was situated in the middle of the room instead on it’s corner. Not just the chair, even a man was sitting on it and calmly raising a cocked magnum at Mr. Jones . A perfect scenery with the moonlight piercing the window shades and an execution taking place. Mr.Jones looked at the window waiting for his end and enjoying some rays maybe not that of the Sun but at least of the Moon. A crashing noise and something stormed inside from the window. It seemed as a werewolf had just entered the room but it was Besim which was firing two glocks on the back of the hitman. Mr. Jones remembered he had lost the glocks when he tried to dodge the bear.


 Everything happened in a flash and the threat was neutralized. Turning to Mr. Jones Besim said with a fire in his eyes:


  • “  Besa! Besa nuk thyhet kurrë!”


Mr. Jones replied:

-“ Faleminderit!”


The End


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