in Writing

Random – Fiction

It’s once again Friday which means it’s Fiction time.  Had a hard time coming up with something today but here’s what I was able to come up with. 

If it was possible to add hours into a week, this week it had been done.  No one had happened by the office, and it was annoying as hell.  But such was the life of a private detective.  The business either was there or wasn’t. This week it wasn’t.

The time was spent on the computer working some, but playing some mindless video game was were all the time went.  As good as that sounded it was as boring as hell doing it for the second week in a row.

As I moved my character another step, I heard steps on the stairs outside of my office.

I paused the game and watched the light play beneath the foot of the door as something, or someone, moved down the hallway.  Something wasn’t right because a normal person walking down this hallway made a hell of a lot more noise than what I was hearing.

Watching the shadows I open the right hand drawer of my desk and pull out my Glock.  My pulse picks up as I place the pistol on the table and draw aim on the door to my office.

The two shadow splits as it reaches my door and one goes to each side.  I see hand motions thru the glass, no whispers, and I drop behind the desk waiting for the door to explode in from a kick.

Seconds tick by and I’m tempted to just shoot thru the walls and be done with this situation, but I don’t know who is on the other side of the walls.  I run thru any people who may want me hurt or dead and nothing comes up.  What did I do?

After what seems like 5 minutes, but is really just 30 seconds, a knock comes on the door.

“Mr. Packard?” a deep voice calls out.

“Yes?”

“Can we come in?” The voice calls back.

“Ummmm…what do you want?”

“Just need to talk to you.”

“You armed?” I ask.

“Course not.”

“Bullshit,” I tell them. “You can come in without your weapons and we can have a civil conversation.”

I peak up from behind my desk and watch the shadows.

Two loud thumps hit the ground.

“Those are our guns,” The voice calls back.

This doesn’t feel right.

“Okay,” I say.