You are running down a street. Why? You don't know. Everything here is dark. Dirt and Grime cover the walls... you can see this, even though your vision is in black and white. You realise you have sped up to a sprint, this unknown feeling of dread still spurring you on. A movement catches in your peripheral vision, and you are slammed to the floor, banging your head on the corner of a building - a mixture of grime and blood now on the back of your head. As your newly blurred vision slowly clears, you begin to make out dark figures, shifting around you.
Silouhettes of unknown evil, against the bleak grey of an unknown sky...
On the 23rd of february, 2006, Mark Shores went missing. There were no traces of any DNA in his apartment that weren't his, apart from, of course, the cleaners. After a series of intense questioning, she admitted to killing him. She was sentenced to 16 years.
Mark Shores is not dead. The cleaner was partially insane, and could not cope with the questioning.
Mark Shores is not dead. At least, not yet.
- Title: prologue
- Artist: Reeker2000
Hey :D I'm 13, and attempting to write a story. It's saved onto my laptop, and i just thought i'd put this up here for you to see.
It's a Sci-Fi, set around now(ish)
- Date: 07/10/2011
- Tags: prolougue