Flying on Rooftops

The huddled mass of his long-time friend fell to the ground, where a puddle of blood now began to seep across the dusty floors and glisten in the moonlight. His murderer stood above him, having already re-sheathed his knife in the great bundle of black cloaks he had about himself.

Slowly, he looked up, his face still shrouded in darkness, except for his eyes, which were black as night, and they seemed to bore through the shadows of the building like fire through paper.

“I know you’re up there, immortal scum!” His voice was harsh but rang out clearly enough to make even Luke’s ancient and experienced blood run cold.

“And when I find you, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”

Now was the time to run.

Luke assumed he had enough time to get through the roof door and make a quick getaway. But he had never been more wrong of something until now.

The assassin, like a shadow sliding across water, began climbing the wooden beams like a lemur lurking in the dense forests of the Amazon. In a few seconds he’d be right next to Luke, and he highly doubted he’d introduce himself first. Why did the roof door have to be hidden behind such a heavy bookcase?! Luke cussed as he pried the case open with all his might. It was cold, his hands were beginning to numb, his best friend had perished, and an assassin was hot on his trail only three stories below…or less.

Finally, the case gave way, and the rest opened with ease. Already Luke could feel a chill breeze embracing his face, and he climbed the spiral staircase towards the roof.

Coming out of the thin wooden door, the night air welcomed him, but the rain gave him a rather rude awakening. With his keen vision, he could see every rooftop in…

The door behind him burst open and shattered into pieces. The assassin had found his way with ease. He was a good three feet taller than Luke. He stared at him, and still Luke could not see his face.

And with that, Luke ran. He jumped from the rooftop onto the next one, from one roof to another. And the assassin followed right behind him. Often Luke’s path was blocked by chimneys and poles and clothes lines of all shapes and sizes.

Luke could have sworn that he heard some roof tiles fall upon contact and smash upon hitting the roads below.

Author's Note

Written 29 December 2009.