A story opener

Gibs960 · 20-11-2009, 04:47 PM

A man of many faces

He headed straight out of the room, he grabbed C4's gun Straight off his desk. He ran down the coridoor. And heard a faint voice calling;
“Bring that back!” B could here him but did not bother answer, this would watse vital time that was needed to save the hostage. He didn’t have his car keys on him so he had to hot-wire someone elses car. He sped off in the VW Polo and hoped for the best, he slammed his foot down when he saw the petrol light flash on. He had to be there, Schrifmegh was his to finish off. When he arrived he opened the door and ran, he knew he didn’t have time to close the door.
“Where’s the hostage?” He said to the first police officer he saw.
“Top floor, third room on the left, he’s got a gun, don’t mess around.” The words “Don’t mess around” repeated in his mind as he ran up the circular stairs. He heard a faint scream as he reached the top floor. He tried to be as silent as possible, but as he opened the door. He heard a gun shot.
“Your gun I do believe,” he said launching the gun at Agent B. “Straight into his skull. You know I’ve always wanted to meet a secret agent ever since I was a boy.” The word boy did not seem related to this beast of a man.
“Why do this? I can hel-,” When he said this Schrifmegh stood up.
“Help me? Me, the one that’s just killed an innocent man. Give me your gun. Or even better drop it on the floor, then we can have a chat.” B did so, with great hesitation.
“Now we’ve got that cleared up I think we can chat. So what do you think my plan is. To kill you right here right now? Ha! No. I will send you back to MI6, let you get a plan, give myself more time to think.”
“You’ve had plenty of time to think. Why kill him? He was just a normal man. Nothing distinctive.”
“Oh actually there is. He’s one of your agents.” B’s heart sank. “Do you want to give him a hug?” A smirk washed across his face. “You see this thing on my back it’s called a jet-pack. Catch ya later.” He pressed a tiny yellow button and he launched out of the window. B dived onto the floor of the now, dead man. Tears dropped from B’s eyes, he closed the dead mans eyes.

As B walked out of the room, the dead man in his arms, he thought to himself, is this job really worth it? Was it time to leave now? How was he going to retire? Death or Old age?

**Misawa** · 20-11-2009, 05:07 PM

Well, I can't say I understand much of it. Bad punctuation, structure and spelling is rife and the dialogue makes little to no sense, and is totally unnatural. Back to the drawing board, I'm afraid.

**FlyingJesus** · 20-11-2009, 05:19 PM

I would suggest reading some stories before trying to write one

Nixt · 20-11-2009, 05:30 PM

Sorry I actually laughed out loud when I read the bit about the jetpack. It's poorly written and as Misawa has pointed out there are some terrible grammatical and spelling mistakes. It needs a lot of work.