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scene....hasn't been revised much but oh well, just ideas
So this is part of my story....if you're not familiar with that, you might want to be familiar with it before reading this...it's in my library, under 'My Story'. Anyway, sometimes I just imagine things like this, and I just figured I should start writing them down. Because I have some ideas in my head of what I want to happen with the characters, but I still don't know exactly what the plot of the story is. Bit of a problem, I know, but oh well. Anyway, in this scene, Timria's trying to reverse a situation that has already been set into motion - the motion being the course that will bring her vision of blood and darkness, etc. to life. Also, Lanif's been taken captive. Oh, and a dirk is a type of blade that's between a dagger and a sword in length.
Timria ran down the hallway as fast as she could, taking a sharp turn at the end and nearly losing her balance. Her hand strayed to her belt and she untied the dirk. She grasped it tightly in her hand and it reflected the bright fluorescent lights that shone in the hallway. Finally she reached the door, and flung it open. Her vision was instantly bathed in darkness, except for several small red and green lights that were parts of machines. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, she ran her thumb back and forth on the hilt of the dirk. She wasn’t nervous; desperation and adrenaline were racing through her, and she felt awake as though never before. Suddenly she became aware of the sound of breathing that was not her own. She listened intently and then turned to her right and gasped at the sight of a man in a white lab coat with his hands behind his back, waiting for her attention. The small red and green lights reflected off his glasses.
“You...” she said with recognition. “You have to stop this!” cried Timria. The man said nothing.
“Please, you must stop this. Horrible things will happen if you don’t...the blood will come, and the darkness...the death...And I have to get Lanif back, too.” The man grinned at her and a high-pitched giggle echoed off of the machinery in the dark room. Hatred swelled inside of Timria as her eyes narrowed and before she could think, she was yelling and had taken the dirk and slashed it in a wide arc, and raked it across his chest. She raised the dirk again, and the man whipped out a pistol, cocked it, and leveled it at her face.
“Now, now, Timria, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” Blood was staining the stark white of his lab coat in a line that spanned his entire chest.
“You must stop this! People will die if you don’t! What are you, if you don’t care?! You’re disgusting! Don’t you understand?”
“Oh, Timria, I understand. I know, I know, I know. I know everything!” He giggled again, almost drunkenly. “I understand and that’s why I have to do it.” He punctuated his remark with a shot, but not before re-aiming for her arm. Her dirk clattered on the tiles, and she fell backwards from the impact. She strained to get up, and saw him walking into the shadows.
“Please!” she cried, pitiful in the dark. “Please...” She tried to staunch her wound with her right hand, and suddenly realized tears were falling from her eyes. She was too late. Too late, and now it was set into motion and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The darkness, the blood, and the defeat were all coming. And Lanif – Lanif...Timria bowed her head and cried and bled alone in the dark.
Timria ran down the hallway as fast as she could, taking a sharp turn at the end and nearly losing her balance. Her hand strayed to her belt and she untied the dirk. She grasped it tightly in her hand and it reflected the bright fluorescent lights that shone in the hallway. Finally she reached the door, and flung it open. Her vision was instantly bathed in darkness, except for several small red and green lights that were parts of machines. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, she ran her thumb back and forth on the hilt of the dirk. She wasn’t nervous; desperation and adrenaline were racing through her, and she felt awake as though never before. Suddenly she became aware of the sound of breathing that was not her own. She listened intently and then turned to her right and gasped at the sight of a man in a white lab coat with his hands behind his back, waiting for her attention. The small red and green lights reflected off his glasses.
“You...” she said with recognition. “You have to stop this!” cried Timria. The man said nothing.
“Please, you must stop this. Horrible things will happen if you don’t...the blood will come, and the darkness...the death...And I have to get Lanif back, too.” The man grinned at her and a high-pitched giggle echoed off of the machinery in the dark room. Hatred swelled inside of Timria as her eyes narrowed and before she could think, she was yelling and had taken the dirk and slashed it in a wide arc, and raked it across his chest. She raised the dirk again, and the man whipped out a pistol, cocked it, and leveled it at her face.
“Now, now, Timria, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” Blood was staining the stark white of his lab coat in a line that spanned his entire chest.
“You must stop this! People will die if you don’t! What are you, if you don’t care?! You’re disgusting! Don’t you understand?”
“Oh, Timria, I understand. I know, I know, I know. I know everything!” He giggled again, almost drunkenly. “I understand and that’s why I have to do it.” He punctuated his remark with a shot, but not before re-aiming for her arm. Her dirk clattered on the tiles, and she fell backwards from the impact. She strained to get up, and saw him walking into the shadows.
“Please!” she cried, pitiful in the dark. “Please...” She tried to staunch her wound with her right hand, and suddenly realized tears were falling from her eyes. She was too late. Too late, and now it was set into motion and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The darkness, the blood, and the defeat were all coming. And Lanif – Lanif...Timria bowed her head and cried and bled alone in the dark.