Post by WJChesek ((Evern)) on Apr 17, 2009 18:01:31 GMT -5
((Another thing I had to write for school. Enjoy and comment if you will.))
NEW YORK, ROCKEFELLER CENTER
DECEMBER 23RD, 2012, Two days after the Event
Christmas time. I’ve never been too excited about the holidays in the past, this was no exception. I had done everything one was supposed to do during that holiday that holds no joy for me, it once did, when I got gifts regularly. But none of that matters now…
Nobody expected it, what happened two days ago. Well, maybe one did, he wouldn’t shut up about it that day, shouting and screaming in his ragged overcoat, cardboard sign flailing in the wind some badly spelled words etched onto both sides, shouting for all to hear, “I TOLD YOU ALL THIS WOULD HAPPEN, I KNEW THEY WERE COMING!” of course, he had been running in the wrong direction, which led me to believe that he just wanted to act out that part.
But like I said already the past doesn’t matter any more, but just in case someone finds this, I’d like to share my account of what happened to me, Doctor James Atkinson. It all started about two days ago…
“Doctor Atkinson, your witness.” the “Honorable” Judge Richard Benedict, really anything but honorable if you asked me. There were stories about him, usually involving women and money, and if at all possible, the two together. Of course, that didn’t mean that he was a bad man. Oh, no… He was an outstanding citizen, what with passing laws because he was bribed by some company or another, not that any of that matters now.
I looked up from under the table, where I had snuck in a certain item of electronic entertainment, and smiled, sticking the gameboy in my jacket pocket and stood, approaching the bench, “Mister Jones, if that is your real name.” I couldn’t help it, getting all dramatic, I, in fact, knew David Jones as an acquaintance, I got to meet all the witnesses of this case, after all, I was the lawyer.
Corporal David L. Jones was a former military corporal, and unlucky witness to someone planting an electronic device in a graveyard just outside the city, he had found the device to be a bomb, and had promptly called the proper authorities. And that was before someone had decided to shoot someone in an alley outside the mans home.
“It is my real name, you know that.”
I smiled, “Of course I do, now, can you tell the jury what happened the night of Robert Gaines’ death?”
As he went through his account of the events, inevitably ending with his own tackling of the perpetrator, I thought about lunch, there was an excellent hotdog stand outside of the courtroom, and it was almost one. Once Jones finished with his spiel I turned to the jurors, gauging each spot behind the olive paneling, each of their faces, all looking bored and hungry. This was as routine as they came, basic murder, so much evidence, it was really a waste of time for all involved. As for the hunger, well, we all were hungry.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you can see, we have a dead man, and his killer, nobody else could’ve killed Robert Gaines.” Then to the judge, “The prosecution rests.” I swear I was the only person with a doctorate in criminal law, and working just under the D.A. didn’t help much either, though I could win the election, if I ever tried hard enough.
Judge Benedict nodded, “The court will recess for lunch, and this case will resume in an hour.”
As he finished that sentence, I was out the door, sprinting for that hotdog stand in the courtyard.
That’s when the first signs happened. Amid the swirling snow and the infernal racket of the city that never sleeps, it happened, the… Event.
I turned towards the first sound, like everyone else. There, a cab smashed into the side of a police cruiser, the two drivers got out and started shouting profanities at each other until the officer saw fit to cuff the Indian driver. The onlookers were unprepared for the next event, and three of them were downed before anyone noticed anything. Then the police officer started backing up while firing his sidearm into an alley.
“SHIT!” he shouted as he bumped into me, I caught the flash of his nametag, Officer White. Why it was that white people had the name “Black” but black people had the name “White” was beyond us all at the time, and we might never know, not that I really cared, it was just a passing thought.
The officer turned and ran down the street, slipping a bit on the ice before continuing on his way. That’s when curiosity took hold of me, and I stepped into the street. What I saw… I’ve seen the movies, and played some of the games… But this… I never thought I’d live it…
It was almost straight out of a movie, moaning, shuffling, dripping corpses trickled out of the alley, people in all shapes and sizes, colors and shades. There was even one of those sidewalk Santa’s, this one devouring some poor child’s head. I can still hear the screams, and see the bodies. It makes me shudder just to think about it.
I wanted to run, I should’ve run. But there was one thing stopping me from doing so.
A child, a little girl, pink heavy jacket sporting a few drops of blood, and she was screaming at the Santa. I sprinted towards her, scooped the child up in my arms, and ran after the officer, only thought in my mind was to escape a horrible death.
NEW YORK, ROCKEFELLER CENTER
DECEMBER 23RD, 2012, Two days after the Event
Christmas time. I’ve never been too excited about the holidays in the past, this was no exception. I had done everything one was supposed to do during that holiday that holds no joy for me, it once did, when I got gifts regularly. But none of that matters now…
Nobody expected it, what happened two days ago. Well, maybe one did, he wouldn’t shut up about it that day, shouting and screaming in his ragged overcoat, cardboard sign flailing in the wind some badly spelled words etched onto both sides, shouting for all to hear, “I TOLD YOU ALL THIS WOULD HAPPEN, I KNEW THEY WERE COMING!” of course, he had been running in the wrong direction, which led me to believe that he just wanted to act out that part.
But like I said already the past doesn’t matter any more, but just in case someone finds this, I’d like to share my account of what happened to me, Doctor James Atkinson. It all started about two days ago…
* * *
“Doctor Atkinson, your witness.” the “Honorable” Judge Richard Benedict, really anything but honorable if you asked me. There were stories about him, usually involving women and money, and if at all possible, the two together. Of course, that didn’t mean that he was a bad man. Oh, no… He was an outstanding citizen, what with passing laws because he was bribed by some company or another, not that any of that matters now.
I looked up from under the table, where I had snuck in a certain item of electronic entertainment, and smiled, sticking the gameboy in my jacket pocket and stood, approaching the bench, “Mister Jones, if that is your real name.” I couldn’t help it, getting all dramatic, I, in fact, knew David Jones as an acquaintance, I got to meet all the witnesses of this case, after all, I was the lawyer.
Corporal David L. Jones was a former military corporal, and unlucky witness to someone planting an electronic device in a graveyard just outside the city, he had found the device to be a bomb, and had promptly called the proper authorities. And that was before someone had decided to shoot someone in an alley outside the mans home.
“It is my real name, you know that.”
I smiled, “Of course I do, now, can you tell the jury what happened the night of Robert Gaines’ death?”
As he went through his account of the events, inevitably ending with his own tackling of the perpetrator, I thought about lunch, there was an excellent hotdog stand outside of the courtroom, and it was almost one. Once Jones finished with his spiel I turned to the jurors, gauging each spot behind the olive paneling, each of their faces, all looking bored and hungry. This was as routine as they came, basic murder, so much evidence, it was really a waste of time for all involved. As for the hunger, well, we all were hungry.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you can see, we have a dead man, and his killer, nobody else could’ve killed Robert Gaines.” Then to the judge, “The prosecution rests.” I swear I was the only person with a doctorate in criminal law, and working just under the D.A. didn’t help much either, though I could win the election, if I ever tried hard enough.
Judge Benedict nodded, “The court will recess for lunch, and this case will resume in an hour.”
As he finished that sentence, I was out the door, sprinting for that hotdog stand in the courtyard.
That’s when the first signs happened. Amid the swirling snow and the infernal racket of the city that never sleeps, it happened, the… Event.
I turned towards the first sound, like everyone else. There, a cab smashed into the side of a police cruiser, the two drivers got out and started shouting profanities at each other until the officer saw fit to cuff the Indian driver. The onlookers were unprepared for the next event, and three of them were downed before anyone noticed anything. Then the police officer started backing up while firing his sidearm into an alley.
“SHIT!” he shouted as he bumped into me, I caught the flash of his nametag, Officer White. Why it was that white people had the name “Black” but black people had the name “White” was beyond us all at the time, and we might never know, not that I really cared, it was just a passing thought.
The officer turned and ran down the street, slipping a bit on the ice before continuing on his way. That’s when curiosity took hold of me, and I stepped into the street. What I saw… I’ve seen the movies, and played some of the games… But this… I never thought I’d live it…
It was almost straight out of a movie, moaning, shuffling, dripping corpses trickled out of the alley, people in all shapes and sizes, colors and shades. There was even one of those sidewalk Santa’s, this one devouring some poor child’s head. I can still hear the screams, and see the bodies. It makes me shudder just to think about it.
I wanted to run, I should’ve run. But there was one thing stopping me from doing so.
A child, a little girl, pink heavy jacket sporting a few drops of blood, and she was screaming at the Santa. I sprinted towards her, scooped the child up in my arms, and ran after the officer, only thought in my mind was to escape a horrible death.
