The River that Flows

A tale that takes you up and down, each secound will leave you breathless and wanting more...

The River that Flows

The trees swayed as the strong breeze rushed past. Bushes rustled and flowers danced. The seemingly endless water swayed. An almost perfect silence… almost perfect…

A man appeared, slowly walking along the dirt road. Past rumbling bramble trees, ignoring the angry motions of the clouds above. In his hand lay a small, black suitcase. It swayed from side to side as he began to pick up pace. Finally he came to a smaller cobbled pathway. The man stopped for a secound and surveyed his enviroment. All around him lay the nearby forest in every direction. The dirt and cobbled path both ran through the forst at different angles. He started walking agian, this time hurrying to a gentle trot, his suitcase bobbing along faster now. Eventually he came to a small wooden shack. As he got closer, some birds flew off in alarm. The chilling coo's echoed through the forest.

The shack itself was long abandoned. Window's were cracked and the bricks hung loosely or missing. He looked at the roof noticing the unstabiltiy of it. Small plates were hanging at crooked angles and when the man looked down he saw several cracked upon the floor. Without anyomore haste he gently pushed at the rotting door. It creaked sharply, sending a shrill noise into the night sky. The man hesitated for a secound before walking in and pushing the door shut. Inside, the house was trashed. Cobwebs spread from the corner to corner of the house. Old rickety chairs and tables were missing legs, some were on the floor, decaying in silence. The man placed his suitcase down on the old table, cauding it to shake and squeak. He opened the clipings then lifted the lid up to unviel a polystirine wrapping. He grasped the item inside and took it out. Careful not to break the table he put it down and wriggled the wrapping off it. The item slid out. It was a long, sleek gun. It basked in the small moon-lit glow shining from the window. The man picked it up and screwed or bolted various parts onto the gun. Finally satisfied he pushed open the door once more. Instead of steeping out, he lowered himslef to the ground. Mere minutes later he started to grow uncomfortable on the cold hard floor. Insects bit and slashed at the un-sseing man. Eventually footsteps broke the rythmitic breathing pattern of the man. These steps echoed bravey. They were loud and clear, whoever it was walked at a steady pace. Not to fast, but not to slow. The man bolted back his gun, and clicked a small button. Then his finger grasped the trigger, allplying the smallest amout of pressure. Another man came into view. He wore a black suit and tie. His wild brown hair danced dramaticly as a surge of wind ran past. The man walked near the house. He saw the armed man pointing a gun at his very own head. Slowly the man laughed.

"You always did come prepared, didn't you!" Asked the blonde haired man. "Here's me thinking I was actually going to meet someone here, how foolish of me." He clicked his fingers. Four other men withdrew from the shadows. Gun's in hand pointing to the armed man. "This my old friend, is where I say goodbye. For the last time." As the man finished talking four shots cried out into the night peircing the armed man. His body flew back into the wall with the force. He gurgled for a secound before slumping to the floor dead. His blood dripped down onto the floor, slowly spreading ot the forest. The dirt soaked up some of the blood, wetting it's lips on the fine red liquid. The blonde man clicked his fingers again and his men picked up the body and disapeared into the shadows from where they came.

The river splashed loudly as the body plunged into it. It thrashed downstream, riding with nature, splashing of the jagged rocks and sharp branches. Eventually dropping a few feet and stopping. Never to be seen agian...