Writing The End of the World

[Shinmaru]

Yep, another story. Unlike my last one, which took [i]forever[/i] for me to write, this one came out pretty quickly. I think, overall, this one is more polished than Julia, too.

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I checked myself to make sure that I had everything that I needed. I didn?t really need that much, just my pistol and my car, but it doesn?t hurt to look like you know what you?re doing when you?re on your last wheels. Most killers I see, the ones on television and movies, they like to dress in black. You?d think it?s because they want to be hidden, like camouflage, but you know that?s not the truth. It?s the ******* movies. Since when have [I]they[/I] been about realism? You know they just dress in black because it?s what people [I]expect[/I] them to wear. Why? Because it makes you look like you mean business.

So, I put on my black shoes, shirt, pants, jacket, sunglasses, the whole deal. Thank god I had black hair?if I had some different hair color like blonde, the whole thing wouldn?t have the same effect. Thinking about that made me chuckle to myself a bit. I sure as hell never thought about hair color before that. Of course, I was going to be gone by the end of the day, so what did it matter what the hell I thought about?

I went outside and climbed inside my car. It was a beat up old Chevy. I had no idea what kind of Chevy or what year it was?it was just a Chevy to me. Cars are almost all the same, unless you pay out your *** for an expensive one. One car is as good as another. I put on my seat belt and put the key into the ignition. Right when I did that, I had a funny feeling in the back of my head. I could hear something faintly in the background. It sounded like piano keys?I knew I?d heard the tune before; recently, as a matter of a fact. The part playing out in my head was the beginning of the song. I tried my hardest to place the name of the song, but I couldn?t.

I turned the key and my car started up slowly. I had gotten used to it, though. My car was old and beat up, but it was reliable. Sure enough, the car started up. I drove out into the street and started out to where I was going. I stopped at a red light and had time to muse over my thoughts for a few moments. I had a few places to go today ? right now, I was on my way to see an old ?friend? of mine from my younger years. His name was John, I think?I couldn?t remember much, anymore. He hadn?t done [I]that[/I] much to me, in all honesty, but if I was going to off someone, he would definitely be first on the list. Stealing a guy?s girlfriend and taking his job are pretty big offenses, if you think about it. Those things are part of a guy?s life. You don?t take a guy?s life from him, unless you?re willing to give up yours.

The light turned green and I drove forward. It was about a ten minute drive to John?s house. I parked across the street from his home and got out of the car. I looked to see if any cars were coming and, when I saw that there were none, I crossed the street. I looked at the front of his home and saw that there was an empty garbage can by the front steps. The garbage men must have just passed by. That was good?I didn?t want anyone to see that I had been here. Not yet. I needed time to do the rest of the stuff that I wanted to do. It wouldn?t be too easy to fill my itinerary with the police on my ***.

I knocked on John?s door. Once, twice, three times. I heard John?s voice yell from inside of his home.

?Who is it?!? he yelled. I yelled my name at him, telling him that I wanted to visit him. I waited a few seconds, then John opened the door and let me in. He raised his left eyebrow slightly and gave me a questioning look. ?What the hell is with that getup?? he asked. I told him that I just felt like wearing all black. It was a special occasion, which wasn?t really a lie.

?Well, I?ll get you a drink, I guess,? John said, leaving the room. I looked around his home. Hadn?t really changed must since the last time I had visited him. His house still had the air of a rich man who spends too much money and tries too hard to make his house look impressive. Vases, paintings, rugs?this room was full of them. His other rooms were probably worse than this. I was definitely doing the world a favor by getting rid of [I]this[/I] jackoff. The police would probably thank me if they knew him personally. John walked back into the room, holding a drink in each hand. He handed one to me. I took a sip of it. The bastard gave me iced tea. I should have known that he?d try to slip me some crap like that.

?So, why did you decide to drop by?? John asked. He seemed a bit put-off by my visit. It was understandable. After all, John and I had never been good friends. I told him that I just wanted to see how he was doing. That was sort of a lie, but I didn?t care. He turned his back to me and started feeding me some ******** about his house. I was getting tired of him real quickly. I wanted to drag this meeting out a bit, but I didn?t think I could stand John?s crap any longer.

I took out my pistol and raised it into the air. I gripped it tightly with both hands and squinted my eyes slightly as I aimed the barrel of the gun at John?s head. He turned around, still talking about his house. His eyes widened considerably after he saw that I was pointing a gun at him.

?Hey, just what the hell are you-? he started. Before he could say another word, I shot him in the forehead. His head whipped backwards and a sharp spray of blood flew onto the wall. Both of his arms flailed in the air and he stumbled backwards, looking like he was going to fall over any second. I plugged him a couple times in the gut and he fell over, blood spreading onto his shirt. He?d have a nice crimson shirt in a few seconds. I couldn?t afford to stay that long, though. I had to hightail it out of there quickly. More likely than not, someone had heard one of the gunshots.

I slipped the pistol back into the left pocket of my jacket and opened the door. I made a goodbye gesture to John?s body and closed the door. I walked down the stairs a bit and started humming to myself.

?And this is the end,? I whispered to myself, stretching out the word ?end? for a few seconds. ?This is the end?of the world.? I stretched out the word ?world? for about the same length of time as I stretched out ?end?. I knew the song, but I still could not place it. I was slightly frustrated but I decided to let it go. I couldn?t let that slow me down, since I had such little time on my hands. I looked for more cars, saw none, and crossed the street back over to my car. I opened my car door, stepped inside and sat down. I put the key into the ignition, still humming the same tune, and turned on my car.

I drove out into the road again. Right now, I decided to pay a visit to the church. I hadn?t been to a church in about twenty years. I had only gone a couple times when I was a little kid and I didn?t remember a thing about it. Of course, I never really had a reason to go to church, since I?m an atheist, but I was still a bit curious about the whole thing. I figure, my last day here, might as well make the most of it. I was never going to see that sort of thing again.

I rolled down my window and laid my arm on the door. I saw a red light ahead and slowed my car to a stop. I looked to the side and saw a few people walking down the sidewalk. I looked to the other side of the street and saw some people buying some fruit. The light turned green and I drove forward. I could see the church ahead, even though I was still a couple minutes away from getting there. It was a large building, one of the largest in the city. The church was very ornate; some rich guy had paid for it to be built.

The towers rose endlessly into the air and there was a beautiful stained glass window located above the entrance. I parked my car by the church and looked out of my window to admire the towers for a few seconds. I got out of my car and I walked up the steps leading into the church and stepped inside. If possible, the inside was more beautiful than the outside. There were stained glass windows lining the sides of the building, flashing brilliant colors all about the floor. An organ was playing a song in the background. I had no idea what it was but it sounded nice to me.

I peered down the nave and to the apse where the minister would give his daily speech?at least, that?s how I thought it worked. I really had no idea but it was a good a guess as any. I looked around and spotted the area where the priests gave confession. [I]This[/I] was what I had been looking for. I had always wondered whether confession was worth it or if it was really just a bunch of crap. I figured it was the latter, personally. I never heard any stories of priests offering any good advice for any of these people?s problems. From the sound of it, they were just there to make people feel a little less guilty about things. They didn?t really seem to solve any problems, but that?s just my opinion.

I walked over to the confession booth and stepped inside. The booth was really stuffy and dusty. I wondered to myself if anyone ever cleaned them. I sat down on the bench and the priest on the other side spoke to me.

?What is the matter?? the priest asked in a soft voice. I told him about how I had killed John earlier on in the day. The priest?s head lifted up sharply and he looked over at me. ?What did you say?? he asked. Instead of repeating myself, I told him about how I had not been to church in over twenty years and how I would not be here at the end of the day.

?Young man,? the priest said sternly. ?If this is your idea of a joke, I am not laughing.? For some reason, that made me laugh. The priest glared at me. ?I would like you to leave if you are not going to take this seriously.? I thanked him, which I?m sure made him confused, and walked out of the booth. The short experience was less than I had hoped for. Sometimes, being right about certain things is pretty disappointing. Absolution was one of those things.

I walked out of the church and down the stairs to my car. I opened the door, stepped inside and put the key in the ignition, all the while humming the same tune I had been humming to myself all day. The piano keys were ringing a bit louder in my head. I was still a bit frustrated that I could not get to the source of my problem, but I decided to drive over to the local bar and drink it away.

I turned the key and headed out onto the street once again. I drove for a couple minutes until I got to the bar. I parked my car and walked inside, taking off my sunglasses and placing them in the right pocket of my jacket. I went up to the front of the bar, pulled out a stool and sat down. The bartender walked up to me and asked what I wanted. I told him to just get me a can of beer, as I wasn?t very thirsty. Now that I was in here, I didn?t feel very much like drinking.

The bartender filled me a glass and slid it over to me. I took a drink and grimaced. It didn?t taste very good. I placed the glass back onto the table and just stared at all of the people in the bar for a moment. I looked across the room and I saw a man and a woman who were arguing. The man?s face was very red and the woman was in tears. The man got up and stormed over to the bathroom area. The scene depressed me slightly, so I decided to do something about it. I got up and walked over to the bathroom area where the man had gone.

I entered the bathroom and took out my pistol. I looked at the regular stalls and saw nobody there. I walked over to the closed stalls and saw a pair of shoes in one of them. I decided against opening the door and shooting him right there, because I figured that would be too messy. I walked up to the sink, put down my pistol and started washing my hands. After a few seconds, I heard the toilet flush and the other guy emerged from the stall. He put soap onto his hands and started washing them. He looked over at me, grunted, and began to walk away.

He obviously did not see my pistol. I grinned tightly, aimed the pistol at the back of his head and fired. The bullet went cleanly through his head and bits of brain and blood splattered onto the wall. He fell face first onto the ground, breaking his nose. Blood flowed from the fresh break, not that it mattered. He wouldn?t be feeling anything for much longer. I washed my hands again and dried them off. I put my pistol back into my jacket, stepped over the guy's body, and left the bathroom.

The commotion in the bathroom had not roused the suspicions of anyone outside. Everyone had been as they were before I went into the bathroom. Even the woman whom the man was fighting with had calmed down. Her eyes were red and puffy, so you could tell that she had barely gotten over her crying fit. I walked by her table, stopped and told her that she wouldn?t have anything to worry about. She looked up at me, confused.

?What are you talking about?? she asked. I told her that she would find out soon enough and I walked out of the bar and back over to my car. Again, I went into my car and put the key in the ignition. Instead of driving, though, I turned on the radio. I heard a report about a killing that had taken place earlier in the day. The description of the scene of the crime and the victim fit with John and his house. The police were already on my trail. The piano keys were louder than ever. Banging, crashing keys. The noise wouldn?t stop.

There was not much time left in the day. The sun was already setting. I decided to head on over to the last place that I needed to go before I had an army of officers breathing down my neck. I turned my car on and drove over to a large skyscraper. I parked my car in the parking complex next to the building and made my way over to the entrance. This building was a business area, where John?s wife worked. I opened the door and walked inside of the building.

Just about everyone inside was busy and none of the people paid me any mind. I walked over to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for the elevator to descend. The elevator door opened with a pleasant sound and I walked inside. I pushed the button for the 36th floor and waited to ascend to my destination. The elevator stopped and the doors opened up. I walked out and headed over to a small office down the hall. I knocked on the door a couple times. A sharp voice told me to come inside. I went in and saw John?s wife, working furiously at her desk. She looked up at me.

?What the hell are [I]you[/I] doing here?? she asked. I told her I wanted to see her one more time before I left. She asked what I meant, but I didn?t tell her. I asked if she wanted to die. Before she could answer, I brought out my pistol and shot her in the head. Her head snapped back as my bullet lodged itself in her head. A spray of blood lined the walls and her body hit the floor with an audible thump. I heard a scream outside and I turned around to see another woman at the door. I shot her, too, but I knew that wouldn?t be the last of it. I had to leave.

I ran out of the room and looked around quickly. I couldn?t see a set of stairs anywhere. I took a gamble and ran off to the left. After about thirty seconds of running, I came across some stairs. I ran up a couple, when I heard a gunshot and a quick breeze go by my head.

?This is the police!? a man yelled. ?Drop down to the ground!? I ignored him and continued up the stairs, the piano keys ringing louder and louder in my ears. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, because I knew that the police would waste no time in hurrying after me. Luckily, John?s wife was on a floor near the top of the building, so I didn?t have to run up too many flights of stairs to get to the roof. There were a couple close calls before I actually made it the entire way up the stairs; the police managed to get some decent shots off and I was almost hit a couple times. One of the bullets even grazed my hear, which stung like you would not believe. I ignored the pain and continued on my trek up the stairs.

After a few minutes, I finally made it onto the roof. I ran over to the edge of the roof and jumped on the ledge. The policemen opened the door leading to the roof and filed out one by one, all still pointing their guns at me. I raised my hands in the air, my left hand still gripping my pistol.

?Drop your weapon!? the lead officer yelled. I kindly obliged him by dropping my pistol from a safe distance, making sure that it did not fire accidentally. If that happened, one of the officers might jump the gun and kill me. And that would have been disastrous. I even kicked my pistol over to the lead officer and stepped back onto the edge of the roof, hands still in the air, piano keys still ringing louder than ever.

?Come on down from the ledge,? the officer said kindly. ?We don?t want to hurt you.? I thought about telling the officer that they had already hurt me, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. ?Come on, son, we?re not going to do any harm to you.? I told the officers that I was going to leave soon. I couldn?t get off of the ledge even if I had wanted to.

?What do you mean?? the lead officer asked.

?Because this is the end,? I answered. ?The end of the world.? The officers in back looked at each other with confused looks on their faces, murmuring all the while.

?Is this some kind of sick prank?? the lead officer asked. ?Are you one of those psychos that go on harping about the Apocalypse every day?? All of a sudden, it hit me. The piano keys softened, the singing grew more melodious and everything seemed to fit. I could finally leave.

?Apocalypse Please,? I said.

?Just what the hell are you talking about?!? the lead officer yelled.

?I can finally leave,? I told them.

?Like hell you?re leaving!? the lead officer yelled. ?I?ll kill you before that happens!?

?That won?t be necessary,? I said. ?I can face the end of the world myself.? I spread my arms and let myself fall backwards. I saw the lead officer?s eyes widen before he ran up to the ledge, in a vain attempt to catch me. He was too slow, of course, so I fell. I kept falling and falling, with the knowledge that I had done right, with a tune in my head and a song in my heart. My last thought before I hit the ground was that the end of the world could not have been much nicer than this.

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Comments and critique are appreciated, as always.

EDIT: Edits, edits and more edits.

[eleanor]

[color=firebrick] You know, I really can't think of anything to say right now. I think you did very well in making most of the story like a though process, and it actually sounds like real thoughts- not the weird stuff most people put out just for the sake of making the story seem smoother and more intelligent...or whatever. *shrugs* But, I still think you can work making your actions seem smoother. It's not choppy, but I get the impression that you have the ability to make the actions flow together.

To tell the truth, the only stories I've read from you were all about death or something closely related to it, so maybe it'd be better to concentrate on something different? Nothing is really wrong with writing about death, but I just think you should make your stories vary from theme to theme. Nice story, anyways. ^_^[/color]

[Shinmaru]

[quote name='maladjusted][color=firebrick'] To tell the truth, the only stories I've read from you were all about death or something closely related to it, so maybe it'd be better to concentrate on something different? Nothing is really wrong with writing about death, but I just think you should make your stories vary from theme to theme[/color][/quote]

Yeah, funny how that works out, huh? Maybe I'm secretly a violent psycho obsessed with death and murder? lol

For some reason, I guess people just end up dying in my stories a lot. I can't really explain why it happens, it's just the way the stories come out. I bet if I tried to change the way they came out, I'd probably end up going crazy or something (I did manage to get rid of a lot of the 'thoughs' in my last story, so I'm not a lost cause to changing my writing style a bit :p).

That would be funny if the next story I wrote ended up being a really happy story. We'll see what happens. My inspiration works in strange ways, I can assure you. lol

[Mimmsicle]

[size=1][color=black][font=Verdana][quote]I checked myself to make [strike]certain[/strike] that I had everything that I needed.[/quote][/font][/color][b][color=maroon][font=Verdana] [/font][/color][/b][color=maroon][font=Verdana][make sure] would sound better, in my opinion?[/font][/color][/size][color=black][font=Verdana]
[size=1][quote][/size][size=2]I had a few places to go today ? right now, I was on my way to see an [/size][/font][/color][b][i][u][color=maroon][font=Verdana]old[/font][/color][/u][/i][/b][i][color=black][font=Verdana] ?friend? of mine from the [/font][/color][/i][b][i][u][color=maroon][font=Verdana]old[/font][/color][/u][/i][/b][i][color=black][font=Verdana] days[/font][/color][/i][color=black][font=Verdana].[/quote][/font][/color][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]Can[/size][size=1] you revise that somehow ? *[size=1]tilts[/size] [size=1]head[/size]*[/font][/color][/size][color=black][font=Verdana]
[size=1][quote]The towers rose endlessly into the air and there was a beautiful stained glass window located above the entrance. I walked up the steps leading into the church and stepped inside.[/quote][/size][/font][/color][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]When did he stop and park the car ?[/size][/font][/color][color=black][font=Verdana]
[size=1][quote]Blood flowed from the fresh break, [b][i]not that it mattered[/i][/b]. He wouldn?t be feeling anything for much longer. I washed my hands again and dried them off. I put my pistol back into my jacket, stepped over the body [strike]of the person I killed[/strike], and left the bathroom.[/quote] [/size][/font][/color][size=1][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]I?m not[/size] [size=1]sure about[/size][/font][/color][color=black][font=Verdana] [size=1]?not that it mattered?[/size][/font][/color][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1],[/size] [size=1]but I guess it could be left as it[/size] [size=1]stands right now.[/size] [size=1]But the[/size][/font][/color][/size][size=1][color=black][font=Verdana] ?of the person I killed? [/font][/color][color=maroon][font=Verdana]feels like overkill :p[/font][/color][/size][color=black][font=Verdana]

[size=1][quote]There was not much time left in the day. The sun was already setting. I decided to head on over to the last place that I needed to go before I had an army of officers [/size][/font][/color][size=1][b][i][color=maroon][font=Verdana]on my ***.[/font][/color][/i][/b][color=black][font=Verdana] [/quote][/font][/color][/size][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]Try finding[/size][size=1] another phrase ? Even though this one works well, it gets repetitive :p[/size][/font][/color]
[color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1][/size][/font][/color]
[color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]Now that the petty remarks are out of the way, it is time to gush...[/size][/font][/color]
[color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1][/size][/font][/color]
[left][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=4][b]*GUSH GUSH*[/b][/size][/font][/color][/left]
[center][color=maroon][font=Verdana][b][size=4][/size][/b][/font][/color]
[/center]
[left][color=maroon][font=Verdana][size=1]There. You are moving along brilliantly. That's all I'm feeding your ego today ~_^[/size][/font][/color][/left]

[eleanor]

[i]That would be funny if the next story I wrote ended up being a really happy story. We'll see what happens. My inspiration works in strange ways, I can assure you. lol[/i]

[color=firebrick] Heh, actually, now I'd be sort of scared if you wrote a happy story. :P You're a great writer as it is, though. [/color]