The Narrator

Enemy

“Aaahhhg,” James woke from the dream, he was grasping out to Eddy through his dream.  Trying to take back the book through the reality that was imaginary.  A minion storms into the room,

“What’s wrong, master?”  it said in a raspy voice,

James turned to it in anguish, he wasn’t happy that he intruded the room.  “You devils never learn do you,” the ground shook and a piece of steel and concrete collapsed from the ceiling, squishing it with a loud c***k.  James turned his body off the bed resting his feet on the floor.  He soon felt the warm liquid seeping between his toes.  He looked down to see blue slime running past his feet.  “Get someone to clean this up,”  he said, and immediately two of them ran in with a mop, another one with tools, a cart and ladder.

James walked down the halls in a cloak.  His face was pale, he was hunched over and worrying like a fish in the great paws of a bear.  He was scared of what was going to happen to him.  Even more worried about his position.  Out in the country, far away from anything of what harm would be there.  James’ daughter, and wife lay sleeping peacefully.  He watched as the sun came arching over the new york skyscrapers.  He knew his family would be awake soon.  Scrambling up to the roof, he boarded a helicopter.  

He flew across New York, over suburbs and lifeless streets.  He rose clinging to the bar, raising his face outside the helicopter.  As the chopper landed his daughter ran to him.  “Papa, Papa, did you get the bad people?”

He looked calmly now, his daughter jumped into his arms, “No, not yet, they took our book,”

His daughter, Hope was smiling like a sunshine, “You’ll get them next time,” her innocent smile was making James melt in his heart.

“How’s mama?”  James asked Hope,

Hope looked down, “She coughed up blood.  I cleaned it all up, she said she is okay, but I don’t believe her.”  her face was flustered, she wondered why her mom would lie to her.

They both walked to the house, the look on their faces was depressing.  The sunshine around them lightened the mood as it crossed the dewed grass and trees.  The mist rose in the distance creating a slightly purple tinge to the atmosphere.  They entered the home and immediately went to the mothers bedside.

“Hey,” Cortney said in a gargled voice, “They say I have a few hours left,” her face was pale white, James grasped his wife's hand, they were still warm.  Soft like the fuzz of bunnies.  She was bald after the cryotherapy.  Her throat was concave and her skin looked as though she was a banana.  “James,” she said, her voice was desperate, as for a last breath.

“Yes,” James looked at her with worried eyes.

She looked seriously at him, “Please, don’t keep chasing those people for the rest of your life.  You’ll never gain anything from having those people as your…” The last part of her words were cut silent.

James looked at her closed eyes, he closed his own eyes as tears started squeezing through.  Under his breath he managed to say one thing, “I’m going to kill those terrorists.”  He rose to his feet letting go of his wife's cold hand.  He grabbed his daughter by the hand who was silent, but dripping in tears.  They boarded the helicopter and flew off to the secondary headquarters in Moscow.  “Dress warm Hope, it’s winter time where we are going."