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My signature is rather loopy and elegant... I don't see a way to replicate this in text form. Do italics work? Yes, they do
Those We Fear
Prologue
Anthony Lohr sat in his study. He was sat as his desk and leaning backwards on his chair against the wall behind him. The only light that permeated the room came from the chandelier in the centre of the ceiling. The windows in the wall behind him exposing the moonlight drenched world outside were covered by curtains. He allowed his chair to fall forward and back onto four legs with a soft thud. Anthony reached across his mahogany desk to retrieve the short glass half full of whisky.
With the glass removed, the carved mahogany desk was bare save for the closed laptop and a mug of pencils and pens. Anthony took a sip of the whisky and placed the glass next to his laptop. He let out a sigh and examined his study. It was a big room in a big house. He had two bookcases against the wall opposite him and against the wall to his left stood a drinks cabinet.
On the right wall, next to a large portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte was the door leading out to the upstairs hallway. To either side of Anthony were three drawers fitted into his desk. He reached for the top left hand drawer, opened it and lifted out the early Nineteenth Century flintlock pistol. He twirled it in his hands and gazed at the portrait of the long dead French emperor.
I have expensive tastes, he thought to himself while allowing a chuckle. He put the pistol back into its drawer and reached for his glass of whisky.
A scream shook the house. He dropped his whisky. "[-blam!-]!" he swore as the glass toppled and spilled the liquid over his laptop. "What the hell was that?" he breathed. He was half standing while holding the arms of his chair in a white knuckle grip. He shivered as he recalled the scream. It came again, followed by a name: "Anthony!"
He recognised the voice. "Jessica!" he screamed in reply. He threw the chair away and rushed for the door, grunting in pain as he caught his hip on the corner of the desk. He wrestled with the doorknob as his sweaty hands couldn't find purchase on it for a few seconds. It felt like minutes... precious minutes. He finally swung the door open and the hallway toward the bedroom. The door was wide open.
"Mommy," called a voice. Anthony's son came out of his room and into the hallway.
"Back to bed!" Anthony snarled. He ran down the staircase that met the hallway in its middle as shadows danced around him; all the while Jessica screamed for his assistance with pure terror... Or was it agony? He doubled his pace and sprinted down the stairs, nearly tripping several times. He reached the bottom; the front door was shut. The scream came again. Still in the house.
He was in the lounge. The furniture morphed with the darkness and Anthony couldn't see his beloved. A light came through the windows of the wooden bi-fold doors leading to his kitchen. Using the dim light to navigate he dodged the furniture as he ran to his wife. He tore open the doors and stopped in his tracks as he jumped into the kitchen.
Jessica and her threat were standing against the kitchen's island. His arm was wrapped around her neck and Anthony's own Colt 1911 pistol was pressed against her right temple. He reached for one of the protruding knife handles from the wooden block on the surface-top immediately next to him. He clumsily drew the blade and the block tipped the rest of the knives onto the floor. He didn't care. He kept his gaze fixed on his love and the bastard that dare invade his home and threaten her.
He heard a chuckle behind him. He faltered and tore his gaze from Jessica and spun to face this new opponent. He faced a man in formal attire: shiny black shoes to match his trousers and blazer. He wore a red bowtie against a white shirt and grey waistcoat. His head was adorned with a bowler hat of the same grey. He wore a neat moustache on his upper lip and a pointed goatee on his chin.
Without removing his gaze from the new threat he heard the man behind speak: "See. I told you I could do it. Just as I said I could." His voice was maniacal and rife with fear.
"My apologies, Daniel, it would seem I have made an error in judgement. Your services will no longer be needed." He drew a revolver from his blazer and pointed it at the man, pulled the trigger; it went off with a deafening bang.
Anthony spun around and saw the man and Jessica drop to the floor. He wanted to scream, to mourn his wife. Tears streamed down his face. She raised her head and looked at him. A faint smile flashed across his face and he rushed over to her. He picked her and his gun up and backed away from man's corpse. There was no apparent bullet wound on his body.
"It's a shame really. His fear made him loyal."
Anthony and Jessica spun around screaming. They had forgotten the other intruder. Anthony pointed his pistol at his face, trembling. The man did nothing but smile as Anthony pulled the trigger.
The man's face caved in and fragments of skull and brain flew across the kitchen. Flaps of flesh and skin drooped as they hung from what remained of his head. His nose and eyes were gone.
Anthony blinked. The blood, brains and skull that had caked the kitchen were gone. The man's face was fully reconstructed and he was stood there with that same unnerving smile. Anthony's jaw moved around as he tried to form words. "What are you?" he demanded at last.
"I am the demise of every living organism," was the response. "I have need of you, Anthony Lohr. You will come with me to the far reaches of reality and beyond. You will see things that would cripple any ordinary man's sanity and you will defy the evils and terrors that exist and are yet to exist. You will see things that neither God nor Lucifer could comprehend... And if I have chosen well, you will endure and survive with mind and body and soul."
Anthony's gun dropped to his side. He looked into the man's clear, penetrating stare with glassy eyes. The sound of Jessica sobbing into his shoulder was distant and faint. He trembled and whimpered slightly, trying to voice a response. "Get the [fuck] out of my house."
Anthony blinked. The man was gone.
What does the flood think?
[Edited on 12.02.2012 12:28 PM PST]