The Black Trap

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young boy sets a trap.

Submitted: February 13, 2013

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Submitted: February 13, 2013

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The lights quickly flickered, the room grew dark and the scene was set up perfectly. Everything was going according to plan, young frank thought. He could Hear Mr. Wisdon starting to panic, starting to realize that he couldn’t get out of his house.

The old man started Screaming and rushing around the house trying to find a way outside but frank knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a way out.

Frank slowly crept out of the office walking towards the stairs. He was very gentle with each foot step making sure Mr. Wisdon wouldn’t hear him coming till he wanted him to know.

Mr. Wisdon, who was at the moment running around the house, rushed towards the stairs and he froze. Frank meet eyes with Mr. Wisdon for the first time and thought he looked similar to a ghost with his grey pale skin droopy eyes and sleek figure, Frank could see the age of him clearly by looking at his face, his wrinkles grew around his eyes with no intent of ending and his cheeks started to hang low as if they were melting off of his face.

Frank slowly reached for his headphones and placed them in his ears with the music turned up, He saw Mr. Wisdons lips move and he could hear the faint screams of obscenities.

Frank pulled a butter knife from out of his pocket and he could see that Mr. Wisdons expression which at the moment before was anger turned into laughter as if mocking young frank.

Frank started walking down the stairs again towards the old man who was still standing at the bottom of the stairs laughing at young frank.

With his right hand Frank yielded the butter knife and with his left he yielded a fist. When he reached the bottom of the stairs the old man was an arm length away from him still laughing still mocking.

Frank griped the butter knife firmly and with a thrust from his left arm he threw his right fist at Mr. Wisdons neck, the old man fell as if he was hit by a car landing a couple feet back from where he was standing, he was taking short and heavy gasp of breath’s frank rushed towards the man and took his butter knife and slit it right into the old man’s right wrist passing through the skin bone and puncturing the wood panel on the other side.

Frank took an industrial rail spike from his jacket pocket and removed the knife, and placed the spike in its place. He stood up and stomped on the spike repetitively driving it more into the wood surface below the wrist.

Frank stopped; he took a couple steps back to see what he had done. He removed his headphones and the noise of pain was all he could hear.


© Copyright 2020 Ryan Fawkes . All rights reserved.

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