Prologue

The introduction to a book that has been on my mind for some time.

     A man walked into the pawn shop. The setting didn't fit him at all. The weathered hardwood gave a rugged feel. There was no repair that could be performed on the light brown wood that was littered with scuff marks from the boots of outdoors men that frequented the many gun racks of the shop. The setting fit them, but not this man. He was worlds apart, wearing thick lenses with dark frames. His cheeks and chin bore no facial hair but rather boasted a clean shave. His looks were softer than the good ol' boys for which the shop was set up. The customers that these workers were accustomed to matched the workers very well with their long beards, and haggard appearance. This man did not fit the bill.  

     The pawn shop's main intention was to sell their rifles, shotguns, and even muskets. They also had some really nice glass display cases for their selection of handguns. Being a pawn shop there were various other goods on display: a section for instruments mainly focused on guitars, electronics like televisions and video game consoles, trinkets and jewelry, and even an area outside the shop was committed to lawn care with mowers and weed eaters. The workers expected this misplaced stranger to be there to pawn his watch, or maybe just browse around. He was ignored for the most part until he approached one of the handgun displays in the corner of the gun section. The man seemed to be examining the handguns carefully, but it was apparent from more than just his appearance that he had no inkling whatsoever what he was looking for. Mikey, one of the more tenured salesmen in the shop jumped at the opportunity to score a sale, and this man though he did not have the looks to fit in he did have the look of a man with some money to spend, and his lack of knowledge about what he was there to purchase was an advantage to the salesman. 

     "What can I help you with, sir?" Mikey asked and while walking toward the man he stroked his thick hairs away from his mouth with his fingers. The salesman's nose was reddened and bulbous, that of a man that appreciated alcohol in a more personal way than most. It gave him a fierce look, one of a man that would know a lot about firearms. 

     "I want something that packs a punch." The man with the dark spectacles said the words in an ominous tone. "Oh, you're looking for some protection," the gruff voice of the salesman replied, "Well, might I suggest this little beauty." He held up a small nine millimeter handgun.

     "Will it pack a punch?  It looks a little small."

     "It will do the job, perfect for around the house in the case that a burglar would try to break in."

     "Alright, I'll take it," the man replied in a docile tone.  His eyes were glazed over, not from drugs, just a slight look of a man with ambiguous intentions.  The salesman could tell that the man had no clue what he was buying, sure he was buying a firearm, but he was almost too ready to buy his item.

     "Okay, well we have a couple things we've got to have you fill out.  Have you ever purchased a gun from us before?"

     "No." the man acted bored.

     "Here are some forms then.  Do you have your concealed carrier's permit?  You've got to provide one to purchase a handgun, state law."  Mikey stated the words in a matter of fact manner, vain repetition from many sales in the past.

     The man pulled out his wallet.  "Here it is."  His words were empty.

     "Driver's license as well please."

     "Sure."  He was annoyed, but started filling out the papers handing his information over without any fight.

     Mikey pulled a new manilla folder out, and filed away the man's information after calling for a background check.  Everything was clean.  Mikey could not help but feel that there was something wrong.  Perhaps it was because of the tone with which this man spoke.  Perhaps it was just that the man did not fit.  Who cares?  I'm getting the sale.  He walked the pistol over to the checkout counter, and the man followed emotionless.  He rang everything up.  "Your total is $189.87, and how did you want to pay for that?"  The man slid a credit card over the counter silently.  "Okay, credit then."  He ran the card, and after a few beeps from the credit machine the receipt dispenser's gears began cranking out the paper.  "Your signature please, and then we're all done here."

     The man took the receipt.  His remarkably delicate hands were off putting for Mikey, but a sale was a sale.  The man signed his name quickly without thought.  The salesman thanked the man for his business, and turned to help someone else.
     The new owner of a handgun removed the clip.  The action caught Mikey's eye, and he stumbled over his weighty body's shift to the surprise.  The man loaded a single round into the clip from his pocket.  He quickly replaced the clip and cocked the gun back all at once.  The round was chambered.  Mikey was making his way toward the man, panicked!
     The gun went up promptly to the temple of its new owner.  The steel was cold.  There were only seconds, milliseconds really, that remained in his life.  The look in his eyes was emotionless just like when he had walked into the shop initially.
     "No!"  Mikey's voice boomed.
     A shot rang out.  Confusion.  Alarm.

Reviews

[Laura]

I like what you have so far. Your descriptions, like describing the man, and some of the things in the pawnshop, it's like the reader is actually there. I think that what you have is interesting. I hope that you write some more to this book (or post it if you have some) because it seems interesting, I like it. :)