A story can be put together, but never really ended. I always was curious, why do people find the ending so hard to make? A good story leans in almost infinite possibilities, but...why only one ending? Every story has a beginning, middle, and end, yet why do people have writers block so often? Welcome to my story; enjoy the ride until the end. A body lay crumpled in the sand, just inches away from me. I am partially counscious, tossed like a rag doll onto the ground. Nobody should have found me out, but how? How did they find out that I was the agent? "Die...stupid kid, don't forget that you were sloppy on the job," said a gruff voice, piercing the silence that rings in my ears. I looked back over to the body nearby, another agent. The body had it's flesh pulled back in various places, shards of glass are resting inside incisions made from the shards, his eyes, wide open, are both impaled by thin nails, the finishing nails you find in a toolkit. The man's fingers are burnt, bent at disgusting angles, and some are dismembered. His brain lay outside his skull, unraveled like string, but still connected to his brain. His jaw lay open, mid scream, but his tongue lays in the sand. The man's throat was torn through by some feral beast, most likely a wolf who was hungry for some food. "Leave the kid for the beasts, he can't go far, and if he does...he will die," another man stated blankly. The men walked away, footprints left in the sand, the red sand. I have not seen any sand like this before, nor have I seen it any color other than the normal golden color it looks like. The sands of blood, that must be what it is, the golden sand washed with the scarlet blood of men. The men who left me here faded away, and everything just went to black... (End of chapter one, if you liked this then please say so, and then I shall make another chapter)
It's so cold.....unrealistically cold...how did it get so cold? I am dead, I am totally dead....I shouldn't have accepted the job. "Good...you're alive" a gruff voice anchored me back to reality. "I'm not dead?" I slowly open my eyes, welcomed to a bright light, like the light depicted for heavenly calling. I blinked a couple of times until my eyes adjusted to the light, coming into sight with the unsightly. The walls were growing with mold, and the wood was beginning to decay. The drywall was broken, showing the wood being a greenish color. The ceiling was also broken, but was punctured with bullet holes. The light was not covered, making it bright. The house smelled of weed, decay, and rotting bodies. The man who sat beside me had a full beard, like a hermit, and it was a mess, with crumbs of breads, bits of meat, and eggs all mixed into it. He smelled of cigarettes, weed, alcohol, and very weak cologne, like he uses toilet water with cologne. He had a scar above his left eye, a flask of brandy in his right hand, and a face filled with dirt so it was unrecognizable. His clothes were tattered and torn, as if he fights feral beasts for his dinner. He looked very happy with his life though, so I thought to not take it away from him. "How did you find me?" I asked as I sat up. I tried to not gag asked a noxious fume rose up with me, a mixture of what smells like skunks and rotting animals. "Saw two guys standin' facin' each o'her like they was hidin' somethin'" The man replied simply, almost knocking me out with his breath, which must have been unclean for like almost 20 years. "Thanks for saving me...I gotta go, catch you later" I stood up as he grabbed my arm roughly. "No catch!" He demanded, his eyes seeming fearful. "It's just a saying...." I look at him with a perplexed glance. "No catch!" He stands up in front of me. "I promise" I sigh and hold out my pinky finger, hoping he understands. The man steps aside, leaving me a clear pathway to leave his house. I walk to his door and leave, walking out into the greetings of nature and day. The door shuts behind me, causing me to turn out of force of habit. His house wasn't anything special, it looked like it was built by a person who didn't know anything about carpentry, and the building itself looked pretty poor and worn out. I turn and walk away, embracing the nature itself as I relax. (Sorry, I'm writing whatever I can think of so this is a new update)