So inspired by Digibro writing an entire LN in one day, I decided to pick up the figurative pen and just start writing one myself. This is what I got. I don’t know what it’s like I went into it with a vague idea and just kept writing until I had at least 2,000 words. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading!
“Take it and go!” Abel’s father screamed at him. The tension in his voice was rising with each iteration of the command, this being the third hurled Abel’s way.
Go. He had wanted to do nothing but that for so long. He hated his father, at any other moment getting told to leave by him would’ve been a relief to Abel. But this was not any other moment.
When Abel had imagined this scenario in his head before those words had always been tinged with anger.
“Get out. Now!”
This is so different to the vision he had. He sensed no anger behind his fathers words, no malice. Only one feeling emanated from those words. Fear.
His father pushed him out the door and slammed it shut. He fell to the ground, clutching the thing his father had bestowed upon him. A single playing card. The back of the card had no logo or design, it was just a plain sheet of black. The front was adorned with a simple illustration of a jester.
Was this some sort of elaborate joke? His father had always had a cruel sense of humor but this seemed a little too unnerving.
Through the translucent glass panel Abel saw a spray of blood jet up and stain the wall, bereft of the sound or sight of a struggle.
“What the fuck….”
This kicked Abel into gear. He picked himself up and began sprinting down the road. It was 4 A.M. on a weekday in a Dublin suburb, there was no one around to question what he was running from.
Even if he was asked he would not be able to give an answer for he did not know why he was running let alone what from.
Abel’s running brought him to the coast, he turned right towards the city center. Abel tried to compose his thoughts.
His father had woken him up in the middle of the night and told him to start packing. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. When Abel was 6 his father had done the same thing, taking Abel away from his mother in New York. He had refused to do so this time to spite his father. The image of the spray of blood on the door flashed through Abel’s mind at the thought of this. If he’d just left would his father have been OK?
“Nah, fuck him.”
He decided it didn’t matter either way. Abel found a bench along the coast and sat down to rest, having decided that he had put enough distance between him and whatever was going on back at the house.
His father had spent the next 10 minuets urging Abel to reconsider.
“Didn’t give me any reason to though.”
Abel reached into his pocket to search for the card he had received. His fingers were numb with cold. Up until now the adrenaline had made it so Abel did not notice the low temperature but given a chance to rest he was starting to feel the effects of the winter weather without a jacket or gloves.
“What is this?”
He had never seen the card before but holding it in his hand he could sense an air of importance surrounding it. What did it mean to his father that he didn’t want him to leave without it? Wasn’t it just a card? It wasn’t the same design as the only pack of cards Abel was aware they owned. Did his dad just keep a stray card around?
*cough* “Fucking hell it’s cold.” Abel whispered into a cloud of condensed breath.
He put the card back into his pocket. His thoughts then shifted back to the blood. It seemed his father’s fear had not been misplaced, he had seemingly been killed effortlessly by his invisible assailant. He was a fairly well built man, and he wasn’t the type to go down without a fight.
“What was it that had him so……” *creak*
Suddenly the weight of the bench shifted beneath him. Not by much, but enough to elicit an audible creak from the old wood. Abel’s eyes darted to his left. Nothing. No one was there. His muscles all tense up. Then a cloud of breath appeared beside him. Abel was frozen. This cloud belonged to nobody. It was just there.
Abel tried to leap from the bench, sensing imminent danger, but something grabbed him by the neck. Flailing out Abel struck something solid in front of him and the grip on his neck loosened.
With no time to process what was happening Abel tried to take off in the direction of the city once more.
The sound of something cutting through the air was quickly followed by an intense pain focused on Abel’s trailing arm. His left hand felt lighter and and intensely painful. Not having the time or the will to survey the damage, Abel tucked his left hand under his armpit and continued his instinctual flight.
Behind him now he could hear footsteps. Something was following him but there was nothing to be seen other than that same breath cloud.
“Whatever that thing is I’m lucky it decided to attack so late at night” Abel thought to himself.
He was sure his pursuer was just waiting for a car to pass by to mask the sound of his footsteps. He had to figure a way out of this before that happened.
“I could try escaping by swimming across the bay” It was a risky proposition, he had no idea how badly his hand was hurt, but it would be hard for his assailant to keep quite whilst chasing him in the water.
“If I just keep running….” Abel had walked these streets every day for over a decade, if the thing behind him wasn’t familiar with them Abel might be able to give him the slip. But if he did know his way around Dublin then choosing this option would be a death sentence.
Suddenly, the upcoming bend in the road illuminated. A car was just about to come around. The footsteps behind Abel stopped. His assailant was about to make his move.
Abel was out of time. Instinct took over and he made a sharp turn right, away from the ocean. Hopping over the wall separating the coastal path from the road, he flung himself in front of the oncoming vehicle in a single vaulting motion. The car hit him mid air, his legs getting taken out by the windshield, flinging him to the path on the opposite side of the road.
“Hey! Are you OK?!”
A seemingly distant voice called out to Abel. A man was walking towards him tentatively, like he was afraid Abel might not respond.
“How am I still conscious?” He thought to himself. What he had done was reckless but it seemed to be the only option at the time. He was afraid enough for his life that jumping in front of a moving care seemed like a safer option. Was it real?
“It couldn’t have been…….”
Abel didn’t dwell on it though, staying alive was more important than keeping a grip on reality right now. He stood up to assure the approaching man of his fears.
“Wait how am I able to stand…..”
“Oh thank goodness, I thought you were dead” the man drunkenly exclaimed at the sight of Abel standing. He was a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. Long blonde hair, a plain white shirt and jeans. He gave off a different vibe than the one Abel was used to being surrounded by.
“He’s probably some rich bastard’s son” Abel thought to himself. Of course the possibility that this man was his assailant had crossed his mind. Abel glanced towards the car he had been hit by to confirm his hunch and ease his suspicions. It was new, flashy. The type you buy to park not to drive. A woman was slumped over in the passenger seat, she didn’t seem to be moving.
“Don’t worry about me, mate. Check on your girlfriend first.” Abel stated incredulously.
“She’s fine” the man replied. “She’s calling an ambulance right……”
Turning his head to glance back at the girl in the car, an opposing force slashed across his craning neck which started gushing crimson as he slumped to the ground.
After worrying about the assumptions his other options involved, it was an assumption that had him cornered now. He assumed his stalker cared about getting caught. That he cared about making a scene. Something with this kind of power does not have to heed conventional sense. Who would stop it even if it was caught.
“What the hell are you?”
Abel was somehow beaten to these words by the now visible man in front of him. A tall man of at least 6ft had appeared in Abel’s line of sight instantaneously. He was strikingly handsome, a strong jaw, shining blue eyes and short black hair that seemed to be intentionally untidy. All of this was juxtaposed by the haggard expression he wore, it was unbecoming of his looks and betrayed the image he had forced into Abel’s mind of an emotionless, unflinching assassin.
“What the hell did you do to me?!”
Abel had no idea what the man was talking about but he didn’t offer any sort of response. He wanted to use any sort of borrowed time he had to find a way out of this situation. Sizing up the man across from him Abel took note of the knife in his right hand. His left hand was missing two fingers and he was wearing one layer of plain black clothing, unusual for such a cold night, especially given he would have had time to prepare unlike Abel.
“What’s your hand, huh? Show me your hand and I’ll make it quick!”
“My hand…..?” Abel shot a quick glance to his left hand which had been paining him earlier. It was completely fine, not a scratch to be seen. Realizing his mistake too late, Abel was pinned up against the wall behind by the man’s left forearm.
“I was really hoping you wouldn’t fold”
Abel tried to kick out at the man but the way he had him pinned up made it impossible to hit him with any force.
“See I tend to stay true to my word.”
The man raised his knife above Abel’s head, positioning it in front of his right pupil. Abel shut his eyes in anticipation.
“Knowing what cards you have would’ve been great but they wouldn’t be of any use to me. Besides this is the part I really enjoy”
“Wait a minute, cards?!” Unable to help himself Abel opened his eyes at the mention of cards. No sooner than the moonlight hit his pupils, the man drove the tip of his blade deep into his eyeball.
Abel screamed and writhed in agony. He could feel the movement of the metallic blade as it invaded what remained of his eye socket. The pain was indescribable, Abel felt like he was truly losing his mind. So when he saw the eye of his attacker suddenly burst open out of the corner of his right one he thought he was hallucinating.
But then he felt the grip loosen on his neck. If he worried about whether or not this was real he would lose this opportunity. The man was clutching his eye with his right hand, holding Abel against the wall with his left arm. His left leg which had been pinning Abel’s legs to the wall had moved as the man staggered slightly in pain. Using this momentary opening Abel aimed one hard kick right at the ma’s ankles, catching him from behind on the achilles and pushed against him simultaneously.
Distracted by the pain, the man was caught off guard by Abel’s attack, falling hard to the ground. Abel acted fast, grabbing the man’s neck from behind and locking his legs around his arms. He knew he had to act with the same callousness as his opponent to survive. Abel had been expecting the man to put up a much greater fight but he didn’t seem to be struggling at all.
Worried it was a fake out, Abel took the man’s pulse with his spare hand.
He was confused. He hadn’t done enough to even incapacitate him yet let alone kill him, he had barely fought back at all. Then he remembered the mans left hand.
“How did that happen” Abel pondered to himself whilst examining where the man’s fingers had been.
Slowly regaining his train of thought Abel took stock of the situation at hand. He had so many questions, of his father, of this man. How was he not hurt? How was he still alive?
Abel pulled the knife out of his eye in one quick motion. Up close he examined it’s intricacies.
“It was lodged in up to the hilt…..”
He noticed two things about the knife. Firstly it was long enough that it should have killed him, about 4 inches. Second, it was all metal. Hilt, handle, blade all made from one piece of metal.
Abel realized waiting around for people to show up wasn’t a good idea. He grabbed the knife and headed hastily back towards his house. He would’ve liked to know more about the man who had attacked him but moving quickly seemed like a better idea to him.
“Can’t question a dead man I suppose.”
He followed to trail of blood back along the coastal path. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an ambulance flash by.
“What the fuck?!”
It wasn’t the ambulance that had him confused, he had assumed one would be called as soon as someone found the accident site. It was the fact he had seen it out of his left eye.
“How is that even possible?!”
He closed his right eye to be sure his left was functional and was shocked to find it was. He had reached the bench he had originally sat down on. It’s green paint now stained by a dark red. It looked like the chair of mad man. Sitting down on a clean spot on the bench to process what was happening, he saw 4 diembodied fingers scattered in front of him on the ground.
“What the hell is going on?”
END OF CHAPTER 1