Practice: Confession; Safety Deposit Box
No spellcheck or edits.
New suit… going to propose.
Needs to get something from this place he is rushing to in his expensive red car.
Tall, tattered black hair, shines like a glossy Ravens feathers.
Will walks in to a bank.
He is escorted in to the back to where the safetyboxes.
The bank manager places his key in its slot names “staff”.
Will steps next to him and places his key in the “member” slot.
Manager says …
“One, two, three, and turn.”
They turn the keys at the same time. From behind a digital lock clicks. Setting free a box from the steel brushed wall. The box that pops free, is grabbed by the manager and set on the table in the middle of the room.
“Let me know when you’re done.”
Its always seems to be in a different box, they must change them around for security reasons. He pulls out a second key to unlock the top of the reinforced steel box. The lid is thick and heavy, he has to forces it to slide back. Revealing a blackened leather cloth. Will lifts the mini chest size object and places it on the steel table. He uses both hands index and thumbs to unveil a plain looking chest.
Will bleakly stares down at his inheritance. He wonders why it couldnt have been a Bugatti; instead of a Teakwood jewel box. Its creator stained it the color of Rosewood, which is way to feminate to have in his home, so keeping it here and its contents secure is the better option.
Will flips the 14k latch to opens the lid. The top layer’s of compartments are empty. He removes it to a second layer which is also empty. The third layer and forth layer are combined in a secret compartment.
Will pushes on two wooden blocks to release the locking mechanism and slides the panel forward then pulls it up, pushes it back, then to the left. Till it titters at the edge. Will definitely thinks It strange how these two boxes have so much in common. Haven’t science progressed to the point to make these kinda things obsolete.
The inside of the jewelbox is a vibrant red silk linen that looks as if it was flowing like water. He’d never admit it to anyone but this cover catches his breath every time.
When his grandmother told him of his gift, he couldnt understand what she meant, now he wishes he had paid her words more attention.
Will moves the silk that flows like melted butter. To reveal a grey wrinkled Hand.
The fingernails were yellowed with brown spots.The cut at the wrist is jagged like it was sawed it off with a dull butter knife. Then some one had to have preserved it, because of the lack of blood; he guessed that it was wrinkled from dehydration, or some sort of embalmment.
“Seriously, do you need to think of this nasty shit every time you come down here?”
“But there isn’t any blood. That means they…”
Will won’t say it, not that he would say it out loud; he might offend,
“ You Know Who.”
His brain fight back the fear and says
“She isn’t Voldemort.”
He here to do what he must, but he wonders how long it been in this box, he wasn’t the one who put it in there.
“That is sick.”
Because the truth is; in actuality it was his mother who had placed the severed hand in here. A modified hand in the safety deposit box. So he could reap his inheritance.
Great grandmother is said to be weaRing a magical Ring. Mother told him it could only be removed from her hand and given to the girl he will Marry.
Will has rushed there every time he think he’s found the one.
Opening the jewel box and tugs. He has always failed to pull the Ring off.
He made himself a solid vow that if the Ring wouldn’t come off, well then, when he fails, He has to dump the girl and move on to the next one. Its a simple strategy.
Today is special because Will had met a girl at a house party just of campus. Sam was her name; she wasnt to smartest nor the prettiest, but she she went out of her way to make him laugh. This is something no girl had ever done before; they usually wait for him to entertain them, buy them things, fall head over heels to make their every dream come true while constantly kissing their ass’.
Today he’s sure he finds the one. The Ring, it has to come off this time.
He he tugs at it. But it doesn’t move. He picks up the leathery Hand and pulls harder.
“I know she is the one.”
The Ring dosent budge.
“Please, come on.”
For the hand of a frail old woman this Hand is quite defiant.
Will smashes it on the table in anger.
“Damn you blasted stupid piece of trash.”
The Ring glows, faintly. Will can feel the hands shape changing as it lessen in size.
The Ring comes off.
“Yes! Your mine. Finely, i can start my life. No more waiting.”
As Will places the Hand back into the Jewelry Box. The Hand crumbles to dust.
Will places the contents sloppily back into the safety box, he finds it difficult to get the container back into its slot, but keeps forcing it till he breaks a sweat.
Joy emirates from Will as he rushes from the Cann‘s First National Bank. The Grey building mirrors the weather. It’s overcast and darkening with rain filled clouds. He feels the droplet tap his head. Then a down pore engulfs ever surface; will still smiles.
Till he remembers he left his keys inside the Bank.
It fine ill just get a LYFT.
Pulling his phone out his pocket, the plane gold band drops to the ground; it starts rolling with the flow of water.
Its headed towards a storm drain.
Will dives for the Ring.
His skinny finger catches it at the lip of the iron metal grate.
Carefully he maneuvers his body through the building water, till his other hand can grasp it more securely. Kneeling in the water Will picking up up the Ring and holds it close to his chest, like a newborn baby.
His side aches, did he scape something. He looks down to she a stream of blood washing down the drain.
This time the pain of what feels like a sledgehammer ignites his back.
Will tries to scream but a hand covers his mouth. He coughs blood from the knife puncturing his lung. The Hand forces the blood back down his throat, causing it to shoot out his nose. The knife is beeping moving around. The pain grows till Will is about to pass out, the knife is turned like a key, like a car his light go out.
When Will comes to. Sam is sitting at his side. Shes even holding her hand. There’s a look on her face and its not worry.
“Maybe this is all too much for her, she’s probably freaking out.”
An overacted voice from the other side of the bed causing Will to turn his head. His eyes shut from the pain that’s shooting up his back to his neck, for a second he forgot he ha been stabbed. He scold himself.
“How does one forget that.”
“Oh dear god, your awake, thank the heavens.”
That voice it cant be… Will’s eyelids flick open to see a woman dressed in a black dress with matching lipstick. His mouth falls open. Will would have expected any one but her. With excitement will tries to sit up, but the pain shuts it down immediately.
“How this is perfect.”
Mother is here for when he purposes to Sam. He just needs the Ring and… In a panic Will such es his unexistant pocket. Will remembers the Ring.
“No, no, no.”
He stares at Mother. He knows she is going to be piss thats he lost the Ring, but he needs to tell her; Will stammers his words as he starts to tell Mother about the Ring; However she silences him with three fingers on her right hand.
Mother shakes her head at Sam then uses her chin to point to the door. Sam stands up and lets go of Wills hand. Will instantly wants the connection back and reaches for Sams fingers; but she pulls her hand away.
“Be a dear and watch the door.” Sam stops at the door, before she leaves. Sam confesses.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Mother make a scolding sound by clicking her teeteeth, the noise makes Sam hush. Sam places her hands in her pockets while the hospital room door shuts.
“Mother, she can stay, I’m going to marry her. She be family.”
“Oh dear…” she says it like the time his stuffed Penguin POKIE went missing.
Again Will starts to confessing about Grate Grandmothers Ring.
“It’s all okay, Sweetie.”
Mother shows him the Ring, them Will she the blood in her fingernails.
Will look at his mother and can see that she saw that he knows that it was her.
Mother presses on the wound, while using her fingernail to scratch an X over his mouth. His lip seal together stopping any sound from coming out.
“Her magic was a waste on you. Do your mother a favor before you die? And tell me what the encantation is?, and don’t worry about lying to me, i hex you, so you will only be able to tell me the simple truth.”
Mother lets out a soft maniacal laugh in his ear. Will lungs force out air and his lips move.
She looks at him in disbelief. Will catches the snarled and the stench from her mouth. Will chokes on the rotting vapors that spew from her pointy teeth. She snatches up a tuff of his hair and twists it.
Will’s face scrunches up in response, but the truth is that it only stings. Will gages it against the rest of his body. its nothing compare to the several stab wounds in his back. It may also be the fact that he has a Morphine Drip going.
“You stupid boy, the words that set the magic free.”
Mother moves her hand up his chest til it sits over his heart. A cold wells upend penetrates into his chest, it feels as if the fingers of Death itself were sweaRing their way in. Mother pulls up and down on Will’s chest like an accordion.
“You have to. She would have told you how to use it.”
“I really didn’t know what you’re talking about.”
Will can see the frantic look in his mothers eyes. It wasn’t like all the other times when he was growing up, when she had bothered to come to see him. Mother had always been kind to him in words and deeds. Will had stared into her eyes only once. Mother’s eyes reviled the truth. She absolutely Hated him. Will never look in to her eyes again. But he always wondered why she could hate her own blood.
The Ring is in his sight… Maybe this is it, is it this Ring.
Then it must have been on the box. What was it?”
All this for a Ring, a stupid Ring? He wants to tell her that he would have given it to her if she had only asked, but all that comes out is.
Will’s body is in a war with the cold of death and the warmth of the Morphine. cand feel cold creeping into his body,
he know nearly nothing about this or any magic, his family tried to teach him,
but he always that them ridiculous notions.
It wasnt till Cousen willimina named after the same Greate GrandFather as he was did a spell;
however she did set the horse stables on fire.
All the bourse died.
She cried for a month,
till a woman came and took her memories of the day away.
Will was forced to swear to keep it a secret.
The fact that he was on his way to collage,
Will has begone to study this magical stuff, but it’s like trying to learn a new language that has more squiggle lines then words in the entirerty of human’s egsistance.
Started by the first race, and every race has added there own adds. We are currently on humanities faith generation. Dose that make sense, maybe its like when you have never been exposed to the idea that any onther languages had ever existed. That makes less sense, i think.
Will has only started memorize the original three million “Marks” that he would need to know the basics.
but his death won’t be of natural causes;
So Will dies in this hospital,
not in the arms of the woman of his dreams,
but the cold wet bloody ones of his mother.
Wake up you filthy pieces of trash, I’m not done with you.
The sound of a steam engine train fills his ears and he see a light off in the distance.
He realized hes dead, and he’s going to i heaven.
“Sorry for cursing.”
The white light gets brighter til it fills the entirety of his view.
The noise fads into the sound of little waves crashing on pebble.
Will tries to open his already opens eyes.
The white light turns into a rising Sun.
“Boy didn’t any one ever tell you to not look into the sun?
Will cant see where the voice is coming from.
“You dont remember your Greate and powerfull Greate Grandmother?
“She past on before i was born”
Well I’m here now.
Are you here to escort my in to heaven?
Why would i do that?
Cause I’m dead.
Dont be ridiculous, your not dead, i needed to speak with you.
But are you not dead?
What kind of sentence is that. Human schools are just the worsed.
I’m not dead, i live here in the after life… think of it as Florida for Witches.
Witches come from Satan, so how are you in Heaven?
Good lord, it everything you know based on some TV show or Movie. Witches come from Wicca which is also the name we use to describe our power.
We prey to the spirits of the gods to grant us control over the elements of the cosmos, or more common on Gia it is refers to as the Elements.
Lightning and rolling thunder fill the sky and the disapated.
We do this because the gods of old don’t come down to mess with you Mortals anymore… she winks at Will.
Your thinking about the next word before you finish this one , so th words are trying to conjugate.
Story engineering – Larry Brooks
Great stories don’t write themself.
How do we know:
While its fun; your creating a product.
I want to be a better writer.
Can people guess how it would unfold.
Genre is in the original point of conception.
Feel the problem? Stop dulling
They are important,
If they fail it will harm us the reader.
We are the people.