Sky Red - Kestral Volta (literature books to read .TXT) 📗

face getting hot. He could hear the man behind him, every step beating against the pavement, heavily. He knew a man of his size and volume couldn’t carry on forever. He knew from experience. Months trying to outwit the fattest of people, knowing they were easy targets.
The heavy beating of footsteps behind him began to quieten and eventually, stop. Uric, however, wanting to make sure he had got away, kept running, until he reached a small alcove in between two doors; 13 A and 13 B. He leant against one side of the alcove and sank to the floor, panting, gulping down oxygen.
Once his breathing had settled, uric noticed a horrible smell in the air. It was thick and intoxicating! He decided to go home.
On the way, he felt his pockets for the wallet. He froze, fear rising in his chest. There was no wallet! What had he done with it? Put it in his back pocket of his jeans! But why wasn’t it there now? Where had it gone? He couldn’t go home empty handed! He had to find it! Oh dear!
He ran off into the night in search of the stolen wallet.

Every night, when Percy made dinner, he would make two portions of vegetable soup with one large plate of garlic bread. He would then set the table and sit opposite his wife and tuck in to the soup. Once he had finished, he would wash up, making sure he did it for no longer than 10 minutes each night because it made his hands go wrinkly (He had lost his rubber gloves and couldn’t find them). Then, he would make him and his wife a cup of tea with one sugar in each and sit in front of the telly, watching the discovery channel until 8:30 precisely which is when he and his wife settle down for bed.
You see, Percy was a man of routine. He was a man of high quality. If something was not up to standard, then Percy would deal with it. He would let nothing get in the way of that! Not even eviction notices and retirement homes!
Percy was watching a documentary on whales when he was interrupted by a soft dripping sound coming from the kitchen. It was muffled and rythmatic. He listened for a minute, before going to investigate.
The result from his investigation was that he had a leaky pipe beneath the kitchen sink. Nothing good old duck-tape couldn’t fix! He chuckled at his intelligence.
If only it were that simple. If only he would notice the damp, creeping up his wall and dripping from the ceiling. If only he had noticed the mould on the bread in the bread bin and the sourness of the milk he had put in his tea. If only he had seen out of the corner of his eye, how much post he has received through his letter box when he steps on them, every morning when goes to see if he had post, only to find that he has none.
If only he would realize that he has no wife and that he is a widower. If only he could see the state his life is in and that he can hardly look after himself...

Cassandra was walking home from the bar alone. All her friends had gone home earlier. Oh well, she didn’t need them! She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked on, staring at the pavement.
Just as she turned a corner, something made her stop. There was something on the pavement. Something small and black. She looked down at it and bent down to pick it up. It was a wallet. Inside, she saw a driving license, credit cards and £500 in cash. Including a few coppers! What luck! She felt around the other pockets for anything else and came up with keys. Two keys on one key ring. House keys? Car keys? Well, whoever it was who lost their wallet may be willing to give her a reward for finding it. But alas! It must have been emptied by whoever stole it! There was £500 in there when he’d last had it! Along with credit cards too! Ah well!
Cassandra laughed, silently to herself as she hurried home.

“Annie! Time to come in now! Bed time! Come along, now!” called her father from the lounge. Annie looked round at Alley, who was still sat on the bench, braiding one of Annie’s doll’s hair.
“I’ve got to go in, now. Will you be here tomorrow?” Annie asked, hopefully.
“Of course! I’ll always be here!” Alley smiled back.
“Ok. See you!” Annie said as she turned to open the French doors. Before going in, she took one, long look at the scarlet sky and smiled. Alley had said it was all the bad things people had done that had caused this. Nothing bad was happening now. But Alley was never wrong. Maybe, the sky would be back to normal tomorrow. She’d just have to wait and see.
The morning came and brought with it a bright, red sky dotted with white, fluffy clouds. The sun was hovering just above the horizon when Annie came to see Alley. Alley was sitting on the rail of the balcony, a worried expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” asked Annie.
“It’s getting worse. I thought people would get worried about the sky and stop doing bad things, but they’ve just carried on!” explained Alley.
“What’s going to happen if they carry on?”
“If it carries on, then eventually, the sun will turn black and die. If the sun dies, then the earth will die too.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. She just looked at Alley, in silence.

Crewe woke to the sound of screams. A high pitched scream that reverberated around the room, creating a strong gauze of sound between him and the rest of Veronica. His eyes snapped wide open and his hands flew to his ears. They were here! They were all around him! They’d found him! NO!

Annie was sitting inside, having lunch when it started to rain. The first sound of drops on the roof and Annie was at the window. She liked the rain! They didn’t get much rain in Veronica! But there was something different about this rain- it wasn’t like the usual rain.
Annie couldn’t quite put her finger on it, so she asked Alley.
“Alley, what’s wrong with the rain?”
Alley looked at Annie “It’s turned red. The rain has turned to blood.” She explained, calmly. “And I know why.”

Uric awoke in his makeshift bed of cardboard boxes, turned over and gasped in pain. He had received such a beating last night! The worst in weeks! He was almost sure his ribs were cracked in several places! When he went to bed, his nose and gums had been bleeding. Only once before had he been subjected to the dreaded torture by being jabbing in the gums with a fork. He still had scars. And now...
He would have to do better tonight. Tonight, he would not only steal, but kill!

David woke on the sofa, a can of beer still in hand. His daughter was curled up in the arm chair. When she saw him stir, her expression turned fearful and she ran from the room.
She reminded him so much of Jimmy. Oh how he missed him! Jimmy had been his life! He had been why he did his job as a policeman. Jimmy had idolised him, aspired to be like him, had wanted to be just like him when he was older! And all that ended when the bomb went off at the pub. It should have been Jessica who died. Not Jimmy!
Instead of going to work, David went to Jimmy’s grave, bottle of beer in hand. There he sat, for hours, letting the red rain soak his hair and clothes. His phone rang several times, followed by the voices of his colleagues leaving messages. They went through one ear and out the other.

Crewe woke from a fitful sleep filled with dreams of dead birds and severed heads. He went to the bathroom to splash water on his sweaty forehead. He looked up to see the reflection of the heavy black bag in the mirror. It lay there, motionless, haunting him. Crewe tore his eyes from the bag back to his face. Momentarily, absolute horror filled him as his face was no longer his face, but the pale face of a woman with black, cold eyes and rotting flesh! Blinking, he realised that it was only a hallucination.
He needed to dispose of that bag. It was the only thing Crewe could do to stop the nightmares, the whispers, the screams and the hallucinations. At all costs!

If Cassandra had known it would be raining she would have brought an umbrella! Especially as the rain seemed thicker and more viscous than usual. It was only when she looked at her hands and her bare arms that the terrifying truth was presented to her. Her skin was stained by ugly patches of deep red liquid. At first, she thought it was a trick of the light, but realization hit her like a tonne of bricks. It was blood...
Or so she thought. She hoped, with all her heart that it wasn’t.

It wasn’t the thick, red rain that scared Uric, as he jogged down the narrow back streets. It was the event that was to take place tonight. His immediate destination and the object that was waiting for him only made it worse. Nevertheless, he hurried along, eager to get this over with and to go home tonight. He couldn’t wait to see the happy looks on his parent’s faces when he dropped the contents of the person’s wallet into their laps.
Oh yes, he wasn’t in for a beating tonight! No way!

Percy ambled out into his hallway. Nope! No post today! He hobbled back into his lounge and eased himself back down into his armchair.
“You all right Dorothy? Thirsty?” he asked his wife. She didn’t answer. She must be tired. They did stay up 10 minutes later to see the end of a documentary about World War II!
Percy gazed around his apartment, admiring his life, when his eyes fell upon an object that sent cold shivers through his veins. It lay atop the mantel piece and had done so for years now. The dust was a thick coat around its shiny surface- Percy daren’t touch it; it wasn’t clear to him why it scared him so much. All he knew was that it was connected to something bad that had happened.
Something he couldn’t quite remember.

Crewe clutched the black bag in his hands- he dare not let go, else his secret may escape him. He stumbled through the streets, letting the rain soak his clothes and hair, avoiding eye contact and ignoring anyone that was polite enough to greet him.
Ha had tried to burn it, but he hadn’t had the guts. He just, couldn’t do it! It was too