Storytellers

At work today, Matt and I wrote emails back and forth trying to out do each other in telling a story.  Here is what we came up with:

As the man walked, the soft sounds of rain hitting the window break the silence of the dusty murky hallway. A flicker of light cast by a brief lightening revealed a faint outline of person at the other end of a mistakenly thought empty house… 

He franticly searched the bare walls on the creepy hall for a weapon to defend himself.  He saw a silvery light coming from a cracked door and he slowly moved to see if he could take refuge.  He slowly pushed the door open only to discover…

A long and dimly light hallway seemingly leading to the front of the house and to freedom from the nightmare that has yet been endured in old house. The man, emboldened by chance of freedom, begins to run down the hall and towards his freedom. Just before his hand reaches the door handle, the floor opens up underneath him…

He falls and lands on a dirt ridden floor.  Franticly he searched for a way out.  He claws at the walls looking for any escape.  Suddenly he hears the loud deliberate footsteps up above him.  He remembers a lighter in his pocket.  He pulls it out and lights it up and sees...

The trap door being closed again, but not before he catches a glimpse of his tormentor with his fiendish smile and cold eyes. He looks so familiar to the man, though he can’t quite place where. He searches through his mind frantically trying to recall who this person is, but he can’t. If he could only remember something of this person maybe he could find a way out of this. Just as he was about to give up on the search, he remembers…

Last week he had to stay late at work.  Nearing midnight, he finished up and started walking to the parking where his car was.  The chill of the air prodded him to quicken his pace until he passed something that caught his eye in a musty and abandoned alley.  He stopped and strained his eyes to sharpen the image he was looking at.  The silver glint of a blood stained knife glistened in the moonlight and smell of leather gloves brought his attention to the man who was holding it …

And that’s when he realized that there was no escaping the situation he was in. Even if he was somehow able to escape the house, he would never be rid of the man with the blood stained knife. The situation grew in severity so quickly that it was almost a physical weight on his shoulders that was pushing him down to the ground. After a moment he realized that he was actually getting groggy and finding it hard to stand. As his strength was leaving him he smelled a slight chemical odor and realized, too late, that he was being knocked out…

Slowly he opened his eyes, still groggy and unable to focus.  He looked around and a silhouette of man off in the distance.  He began to breathe slow and more deliberate breaths.  After what seemed like hours he began to focus his eyes.  He could feel sweat start to drip down his face.  He began to wipe the sweat from his brow and then realized that his hands were cuffed to a chair.  He tried to kick out his legs only to discover they were bound to the legs.  A sense of panic began to rise again as he saw the man clear as day.  And the man began to walk towards him.  His face was distorted and scarred and sporting a menacing smile.  He looked around the room and realized he was in his own home …

Fear and panic set in. What of his wife? What of his children? When had he came across that awful scene that night? What was he to do? He needed to end this and he knew exactly how he needed to do it. His captor had made a mistake in bringing him home. The man was familiar with it and the captor wasn’t. Slowly he began to formulate a plan of how to get out of his bonds…

First he needed to know the fate of his wife and children.  He began to speak and the hoarse words began to form, "Wh-where is my family?"  The man slowly craned his neck to look right into his eyes.  The captor gasp at the sight of the man's dead blue eyes gazing back at him.  Slowly he smiled and said in a muted tone "no, not here, not today” …

The mans mind went racing. What did that mean? Did he already have his family captive? Was he going to get take them in front of the captor so he could witness it? Would he be rendered unconscious again? His mind was racing faster and faster and panic began to set in. He could hardly think as his captor remained cold and calculate as he was making some sort of preparations on the table in front of him. The man could hear clanking of metal and reflections of light when suddenly…there was the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the front door…

**At this point in the story I got too scared and told Matt that we had to stop and that he had to end the story.  Here it is:

The man’s heart was pounding so hard it was ringing in his ears. Sweat was pouring down his face and he frantically tried find a way free to prevent what was going to happen next. The door slowly opened and a figure stepped through. The captor jumped out to take captive the person entering the house. Just then, a gun shot rang out. The man’s heart almost exploded as he shut his eyes and imagined what had happened. He was overwhelmed with emotions but all were consumed by a single one: rage. He opened his eyes to locate his captor. When he looked he saw something that he didn’t expect. There was another man standing over his captor with a pistol pointed at him. The newcomer introduced himself as a detective who had been tracking his captor ever since the murder had occurred previously. The detective informed the man that he had found his wife before she came home and had gotten her key to the front door. The man’s family was safe and his captor was no more. Relief washed over him like cool water on a summer day.