This is a story I wrote a long time ago. I'm putting it up here for yours and my amusement. After this, I'll be ripping to pieces and pointing out the holes.
Navigation: Back to Part 1
From my school days, I went to Girton College at the University; learning the combined area of Natural Sciences - yet concentrating on the flame of the scholarly pursuits of my school years; the more esoteric aspects of physics. From there, I gained a first-class degree with honours, moving to Oxford to study to become a doctor. Soon after, I moved to America to lecture in a University in Chicago.
Whilst teaching, I became involved with a beautiful young student of mine, Kathryn Laird. With fair, golden hair, slim figure and happy disposition, she whirled into my life. My agenda changed - no longer did I pursue knowledge with such single-mindedness; she gave me a new outlook, and my life changed to revolve not around books and lectures as it had in the past, but around her. I was besotted.
Two happy years we spent together, and we were to be engaged. Yet it appears that fate cruelly determined that this was not to be.
Late one night, I was walking back to her home (she still lived with her parents). I walked her towards the short back-alley that led to her home, intending to walk her all the way back. She declined, kissing me briefly on the lips, saying that she knew I had a long day ahead of me tomorrow (a convention that I had to lecture to had started that day), and to run along home. I waved her goodbye, blew her a kiss, and started to walk back to my home, my mind wandering, thinking of my beloved.
A short while from where I'd left Kathryn, I head a distance female scream. It had come from a dark alley along the road to my home. I broke into a run, soon reaching the alley-way.
In the dim light, it wasn't possible to see much. There was only one street light in the alleyway, and with that being broken, the only light filtering in was that from the main street behind me. I could make out a rough dead end, trash cans scattered around the walls, and a huddled shape on the floor in the darker shadows beyond.
A slight movement to my left, barely perceptible, alerted me to the presence of another person. I turned round to face whoever it might have been and in a quiet voice, said "What's happened here? I heard a scream..." I didn't hear a reply - with a glint of metal and a quick movement from the hidden figure I crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
End of part 2
Simon Cooke is an occasional video game developer, ex-freelance journalist, screenwriter, film-maker, musician, and software engineer in Seattle, WA.
The views posted on this blog are his and his alone, and have no relation to anything he's working on, his employer, or anything else and are not an official statement of any kind by them (and barely even one by him most of the time).