1 - A Serious Case Of MercyA Story by Whisty_xSomething I am still working on! I was inspired by the tale of Dick Turpin and I am in the process of developing the storyline. This is an experiment piece to help me figure out the characters.A cold breeze fills the pokey, little tavern as the heavy wooden door flies open revealing the reality of the outside elements. He has arrived. The room dies as he makes his presence known through silent consultation. As he promotes his masculine features in the faint candle light of the tavern, his dismal eyes lock to mine which in turn sends a shuddering sensation down my spine. I turn my head towards the bar, hiding my identity behind a blank expression and weathered clothes. I pull my wide-brimmed hat down over my eyebrows to hide my face from the flickering light. I can’t allow him the privilege of knowing my wanted identity. I follow his journey through the corner of my eye as he prowls across the harsh wooden floor. His presence causes a smoke-like affect in the room; everything is darker, the air is thicker and I imagine that if he lingers around this place for long enough, the death count will soar. The ground quakes as the sole of his cumbersome leather boots make contact with the wood beneath his feet. As his energy reaches my field of security, I feel the painful stabbing of adrenaline running through my blood. It is almost unbearable. The only thing which ties me down to this bar stool is his unspoken rule. I move, I die. I have heard of this mysterious man. I have heard about what he can do to a person like me. He proceeds to the bar. The man grabs a stool just down from where I am sat. I can feel the sweat beading across my forehead. The shady figure taps a single gold coin on the bar with anticipation before looking around and meeting my cowardice glance. A single droplet of sweat trickles from my forehead, down the bridge of my nose before falling of the tip onto the wooden bar beneath my forearms. He pauses; still glaring at me. The room once again stands still. The man silently chuckles to himself, letting go of my sheepish gaze, knowing the amount of control he has within this tiny room. With a click of his fingers, the barman passes him an unknown type of whiskey. It is one I have never seen before. A type of whiskey that has never been sold to a commoner like me. It is a deeper, richer shade of amber. Nothing like the watered down alleged whiskey that we commoners get served. In one swift movement the drink disappears into the stomach of the beast. The unknown whiskey doesn’t seem to change the arrangement of the mans face. As he places his empty glass on the bar, he turns his whole body in my direction, raises himself to a standing position and broodingly makes his way over towards me. My heart is beating so fast that there is now a higher possibility my body will fall into sudden cardiac arrest. His musky breath caresses my nostrils as he invades my privacy. Leaning on the bar he steals my line of vision and I can tell it will be hard for me to look away. I can feel his eyes viciously scratching into my soul, figuring out my deepest and darkest fears, secrets and vulnerabilities; yet his face remains emotionless. Through fearing for my life, I cannot bring myself to move a single muscle. He shuffles slightly before diving his hand deep into his jacket pocket. He rummages through his belongings and withdraws a crumpled up piece of paper among many other things; a couple of gold coins, a tooth, some string and... a bitten off finger. The piece of paper is damaged and soaking wet from the rain and so you can understand my reluctance to taking it when he offers it to me. He grabs my wrist and squeezes it until you can hear my bones starting to crack! I unwillingly open up my palm and he forcefully shoves this crumpled piece of paper into my hand. "See you around Devin." He gives a devilish smile before chucking the coin to the barman. He turns and leaves with little haste. As the gale force winds charge through the tavern, I look down to the piece of paper which I now hold in my hand. As I begin to unravel it, concern shoots me like a bullet fresh out of a barrel. My whole body goes numb. © 2017 Whisty_xAuthor's Note
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Added on January 13, 2017Last Updated on February 13, 2017 Tags: Characters, Dark, Mystery, Mercy, Fiction, Descriptive, Story AuthorWhisty_xStratford-Upon-Avon, Warwickshire, United KingdomAboutCasual writer who mainly uses this platform to express my emotions with a hint of experimentation in writing. I tend to write stylised/absurdist scripts, however I am trying to branch out into oth.. more..Writing
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