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Well the idea was to write the opening chapter for a novel. This isn't the final piece (that hasn't got to be done for another year) but I really want some good C+C off you guys.
By the way, I kinda used some of your names if you don't mind XD
English Coursework Draft
Steven slammed the door behind him, and he turned the key in the lock, checking the door was securely locked behind him. He shuffled down the steps from his terraced apartment, located on 32nd Street. His house was near the center of Manhattan, meaning it was an easy traveling distance to nearly anywhere in New York City. The sky was pitch black and the streetlights where squinting and shimmering, as if the bulb was about to blow. A heavy fog poisoned the cities glimmering sights. The end of 32nd Street was covered in haze, but he knew the way. Steven opened into a jog as he paced down the road, checking his corners every block he passed. He looked at his watch. 2:27AM. He had been told to meet at Central Park North Gate at 2:30 prompt. Seconds passed by as he rushed passed the midnight traffic. The city was still very much alive, but the majority of the population hibernated in their flats or apartments.
2:29AM. Seconds rushed passed as Steven approached the northern gate. Sweat started to drip down his face. He approached his final hurdle on the race to the park, the opening from suburb to urban. The street was silent, long, and empty, with only his shadow moving like the shadow of a hawk in mid-country. 30 seconds left. 29… 28… His jog broke out into a sprint as he saw the opening to Central Park. There was a dark figure standing at the gate, constantly checking his watch. He looked impatient, and the man in the car parked next to him looked ready to drive off without Steven. His lungs started to incinerate, longing for oxygen.
He approached the gates after nearly suffering from a heart attack. The shady figure was there, staring through his sunglasses. He was wearing a dark black hoody with the letter ‘G’ on it. His trousers were ripped and torn, with bloodstains and mud all over them. His Oakley sunglasses blended into the shadow cast over his face from his Ecko branded cap. He was holding a paper bag in his hand, and a briefcase in the other.
“Man, you look rough. What you been doing?” The shady figure asked in a high pitched tone.
Steven looked as if he had just woken up. He was wearing a brown jacket with a bright red T-shirt reading ‘Foo Fighters’ underneath. His DC trainers were torn, and were left with water and mud stains over them after running to Central Park. His hair was a state. It was a thick black colour, and was slightly curled. The speed he got to the park in meant the breeze had blown his hair, making him look even more untidy than usual.
“I lost track of time. You got the package?” Steven replied, gasping for breath.
“Yeah brother, it’s in this case here” The figure replied. On the briefcase read ‘Josh’s crack’. Steven stared at the label on the case and asked “Josh? Who is he?”
“Well that’s me name right? I’m your dealer you should at least know my name by now!”
There was a click from one of the blocks, and one from the car next to Josh. The click echoed across the whole of Central Park.
Steven spun around, trying to find where the first click came from. It seemed to approach from an apartment window, but there were so many of them that he didn’t know where to look. The streets were but a blur because of the fog. His brain decided to switch panic mode on, but he still kept focused on finding his way out of the trap.
“C’mon man, give yourself up. You’re in quite a sticky situation.” Josh took his hood down and his cap off to reveal a pale white skinned teenager. He had stubble all over his chin and what looked like a knife slit under his right eye, and another on his nose. He dropped the paper bag to reveal a .45 colt pistol in his right hand. Then he dropped the briefcase and pulled a tear gas grenade out of his pocket. The grin set upon Josh’s face at that moment was one of resemblance to The Joker, one of Batman’s many enemies.
“My associate, Keaton” Josh gestured to the car driver “He has on the passenger seat a fully automatic rifle, locked and loaded.” Keaton was dressed up fancy, as if he didn’t fit in with this crowd. His hair was a bright chestnut and was styled to perfection. Steven could tell this was so not to arouse suspicion in the vast night of New York. “My buddy up on the rooftop to your left has a sniper pinpointed to your heart. You do so much as to move, you will be shot”
At this time, Steven felt like he was stranded. He couldn’t run or he would just be shot down. He couldn’t grab for his phone or else he’d be shot down. He couldn’t try to fight back because once again, he would be shot down. Steven’s choices were limited to a margin. He had to think on his feet. He had to choose the right path to get out of this crazy maze. Then it struck him. He could use his pocket-knife.
Steven rapidly reached for his back pocket and slashed out a small knife, no bigger than a finger, and held it in his right hand. With pinpoint accuracy, he threw the knife as the tear gas in Josh’s hand. It struck and impaled the metal case, ripping a hole in the side of it. The gas started to rise into Josh’s eyes and he dropped his weapons, scratching miserably at his eyes. Steven then dived to the car parked up aside him and sprawled himself up against it. The sniper up in the towers no longer had a clear shot, but fired anyway. It was the biggest mistake of the night, but it all went to Stevens plan. The bullet from the sniper penetrated the car roof, getting Keaton directly in the shoulder. Keaton screamed in agony and the sniper fired more shots to try and hit Steven, but with no prevail. The sniper’s shoes scuffled above and the sound of metal clanking came from the apartments where he hid.
Steven peered up through the open car window to see Keaton sitting, head against the dashboard, with blood spilling out of his cheek and his mouth. There were 3 holes in his arm, 1 on his head and 1 on his leg. The gore factor was high, but Steven was used to this sight. Many people had tried to ambush Steven in his life, all because of one thing.
Steven worked for the CIA.
He stood up, covering his face with his jacket to prevent the tear gas from blinding him, and walked off into the night. The scene of the crime was no fault of his. He had done no harm to the criminals, so was not responsible for their misfortunes. This is what made the smirk on Steven’s face priceless. The sly, courageous grin that everyone he knew remembered him for.
Back on his trail home, the sound of police cars could be heard in the distance. Steven turned around to see the blue and red lights whirling around in the night sky. The view from where he was standing at that time was breathtaking. He was on a hill looking down onto Manhattan Bay. Steven stopped for a moment to reminisce. He used to work at the fish market on the bay. That’s where he gained his skills with the knife, from gutting fish.
There was a brief pause in the flashback in Steven’s memory, as if there was still danger. Coincidentally, the night fell on him. Steven was covered in a black cloak and wrestled to the ground. He had no idea what was going on, or who it was doing this to him. The distinct sound of a 4x4 pulled up across the road and Steven felt himself being picked up by several pairs of hands and being thrown onto a hard metal floor.
The cloak was pulled from Steven’s head, but leaving the rest of his body behind in the unknown abyss. In front of him stood two men, both wearing orange convict outfits and white hockey masks. They both had nametags on their shirts. One of them was labelled ‘Matthias’ and the other ‘Alec’. The one named Matthias was of medium build, very tall and what looked like Hispanic skin tone. Alec was muscular, a bit too muscular. There was a patch on his arm, preferably where he had used steroids. He was average height, but still only coming up to Matthias’ shoulders.
“Greetings, young man” They both spoke at the same time, in a monotonous and eerie voice “Welcome to the Cirque de Blood and Bones. You are our new assistant!”
Steven gagged and the feeling of unease swept across him through the wind.
I know one question you guys will wanna ask: What was the package that Steven wanted? Well thats actually a mystery found later in the story which I will write more for.
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