A Fine Day: dRoy's short story

I wrote this a while ago (I'm sure some of you even read it) and I just felt like posting this here.

WARNING: Cliché Storm! If you don't see the ending, you are probably Genre Blind.

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It was a very fine day.

I liked that day. It was really nice and I had all the time in the world. I could have picked up that book I was dying to read or contact with my dearest friends. Those activities never seized to delight me and I could indulge in those for all eternity if I could. That day though, was not for them. I did something I never did before and never will again.

From my apartment, in a spot only few dozens of steps from here was another apartment. It was a nice place and I liked it. It was a very newly built and was very bright and beautiful as if it was carved with a gigantic pillar of marble. It was very pleasing to watch it, if I may say. What made it more significant for me, however, was a frequent appearance of that strange man.

Not all place can be in high sprit the whole time, you see. The wonderful tenants of that even more wonderful apartment, fortunately and unfortunately, were just like us and they cried and fought amongst each other. While watching their shenanigans were an endless amusement for me, thinking about how they all wound up like that, made me feel less than happy. Thing about my mystery man is that he would always visit the apartment whenever there are grieving. I could say with absolute certainty that he did not live in that place. At first, it was a mere interesting anomaly. However, as there were more and more grieving in that white palace-like place and more visit from that man, I became fascinated, perhaps even obsessed with that man.

He soon became one with my observation of the place and soon the very form of the grieving I saw in that place with my own eyes. He was my amusement in human form. I cannot express how delightful I was when I came to realize that. I had to talk to him! I took a note of his appearances and soon learned that he came at least twice a week, but usually in Monday and Thursday. It was wonderful, really. I always loved those two days because those were the days I enjoyed my precious leisure.

It was a Friday afternoon when I figured that the man would visit again. I took my brown overcoat out and left the apartment. It wasn’t even that cold to warrantee my apparel, actually. Still, I enjoyed the feel of my coat and things inside it. I walked up to the entrance of the apartment and soon enough, the man had arrived. As he walked toward my direction, I could not help but admiring his looks. He was clad in black clothing, from head to toe. I could not correctly recognize the style of his fashion but it most certainly complimented his lithe figure very well. When he passed by me, I took a glimpse at his face. His sharp face and narrow eyes were filled with grim dread and I instantly figured that I would enjoy his presence.

I walked briskly until I was walking right beside him. He glanced at me and then turned his eyes to face forward. I smiled back. After walking along with him through the very brightly lighted endless corridor for a while, he looked at me curiously.

“May I help you?” He asked in very polite and soft tone. He had one of the loveliest voices I heard and savored.

“Oh, it is nothing particular. I was merely curious at your frequent visit. You are not a resident in this place, are you?” The man stared at me for a while and after shaking his head for a bit, smiled.

“Ah, I merely have some trivial business here. Was I making you feel anxious?”

“Of course not! Where did you get that impression?” At my shocked look, he took a step back, looking visibly apologetic.

“Oh, I didn’t mean like that. No offense, sincerely.”

“Ah, none taken. So, what is this business you are speaking of?”

At this he became grim again and how I wished to have it as a portrait…

“You’ve heard what happened in this place, right?”

“What do you mean by that?” Things became more interesting.

“The killings.” Things became very interesting.

“What?” At my confounded expression the charming man sighed.

“There have been murders in this place. Twice each week, every Monday and Thursday to be precise.”

“My God, that’s horrible! I live not far away from here!” “Yes. Strange thing is that there hasn’t been any sort of tangible evidence. Not even a hair, footprint, nothing. I personally suspect that it is a work of devil himself!”

“Why, do you believe in the devil?”

“Well, not exactly.” The man said, chuckling a little.

“Whatever brought you here then?” At this the man stopped in his track and seemed as if he should ask my question sincerely or not. Seeing my excitement that I did not bother concealing, he shrugged.

“Just some independent investigation, really.”

“Oh, really? How fascinating. Is it going well?”

“Not exactly. Well, police got nothing and I’m no Sherlock Homes.”

“Hah, who is?”

And like that, we casually talked until I followed him to his destination. Soon we arrived at the fifth floor, at the end of the corridor. Curiously, there were no polices, contrary to my expectation. We both took a closer look at the site and by proxy, the bodies. The bodies had their head crushed, likely due to an impact to the head with a blunt object, probably with a hammer. Other than that, the bodies were left relatively clean but I guess that it would be more than enough to make people feel nauseating. When the charming man next to me looked at the bodies with partial dread and partial fascination, I couldn’t help but to feel excited for some reason.

“I don’t think this is a site to be interested, is it?”

“No, it is not. However, observing people’s death is a morbidly fascinating activity.”

“Hah, it seems that we both have a curious way of leisure, no?

“Hmm, you might say that, although exactly I don’t know exactly what your leisure is.”

“Indeed. Say, has there been always been two bodies? I’m just curious.”

“Yes. Every week, Monday and Thursday, two bodies.”

“Interesting, because there are three.”

Before he could say anything more I pulled a hammer from my overcoat and hit the back of his head with as much force as I could draw. The charming man went down and died instantly. I put the hammer back in my coat and walked away, leaving his body among the pile of the corpses. I said nothing until I got out of the place. Then I smiled and headed back to my apartment, light rhythm in my steps and cheerful whistle escaping from my lips.

It was a very fine day.

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I told you it was predictable.

I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.

I'm keeping this on my watch for a bit. I'll give you my critique possibly tomorrow, mmmkay?

ALL CREATURE WILL DIE AND ALL THE THINGS WILL BE BROKEN. THAT'S THE LAW OF SAMURAI.

Thanks!

I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.

Well, you did warn me about this piece being predictable. It felt quite pointless, really. Like a Twilight Zone short without any kind of demented aesop.

If I could give some advice, I'd work on a lot of the sentence agreements and word values. Stuff like "less than happy" feels extremely awkward.

This felt a lot like the Christopher Nolan film Following. Before I give any further advice: what would you say is the point behind this work? or what would you like to "say"? What feeling do you want the audience to come off of this with?

ALL CREATURE WILL DIE AND ALL THE THINGS WILL BE BROKEN. THAT'S THE LAW OF SAMURAI.

-scratches back of the head- Well...nothing really. For one, I like gentlemen talking to each other. For another, the whole thing was the lead up for the violence at the end. I like violence.

Kinda asinine reason for writing a story, isn't it?

I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.

It is. If I may add storyline suggestions, perhaps try and have the serial killer lead sucker a poor stranger into being his partner in crime, and ween him into being his understudy/ equal? Perhaps while making themselves indistinguishable with the upper crust of whatever society they live in?

edited 29th Nov '11 12:43:48 AM by Schitzo

ALL CREATURE WILL DIE AND ALL THE THINGS WILL BE BROKEN. THAT'S THE LAW OF SAMURAI.

That sounds nice! I'll try.

I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.

Please don't take this the wrong way, but I feel like it was kind of clumsily written. There were a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes and the actual sentence construction, language and so on had a kind of stilted, unnatural sound. I vaguely remember reading on some thread that you're from Korea (is it Korea? Sorry if I'm wrong) so is English your first language?

Scepticism and doubt lead to study and investigation, and investigation is the beginning of wisdom. - Clarence Darrow

Ah, don't worry, not the first time I heard that. English would be my second language, but of course, I have no intention to use it as a justification for all those grammatic errors.

I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.