Tricks and Traps – Part 1

By Alexander Ballard

Published January 20, 2014

I’ve decided to do something a little different this week.  Instead of just writing something random every Monday.  I’m going try my handing at a novella set in the world from the Prey short story I wrote last year.  Each week I’m going to post a new part each around 500-1000 words and hopefully at the end we’ll have something interesting.

The novella will have the same bad ass slightly damaged female protagonist from the short story and take place in a near future cyberpunk world filled with supernatural inspired creatures the broken into our world form another dimension.

Since I’ll be sharing this with the world and working on it piece mill.  I actively encourage people to  post comments, ideas, and suggestions on how to shape and unfold the story.  So with out further ado here is part 1.

And so it begins, not with a bang but with a whimper.  A tiny cry in the night, a forgotten child, lost and looking for salvation. Running down dark dirty back streets, scratching at doors trying to claw her way to freedom.  Mascara is running down her face.  Lipstick applied with such care only a few hours ago now smudged and ruined.  Fear and terror are all she can think of while desperately looking for some way out of this madness.

Left, right, straight on. All dead ends.  The twisting maze of alleys and side streets seems to lead nowhere.  And no matter how hard she searches or fast she runs she winds up back beneath the flickering light and rusty bins.  There’s no way out; no escape and no hope left.  The realization crashes down on her as she falls to the ground and begins to cry.  As if responding to her plight the heavens open up and rain begins to fall.

The rains brought to life all the wretched smells of the alley behind the Babylon Club.  There was the reek of piss and vomit; alongside the stench of old cigarettes, and decaying garbage.  There was so much silence and darkness.  The violet coloured moon and faulty light seemed to be the only illumination left in the world.

“It shouldn’t be like this” she screams. “Pleases someone help me, why won’t someone open the goddam door.” She runs to the metal door and strikes it as hard as she can over and over again.  The sound of fists against metals echoing out in all directions.  But the door is unmoved.  There are no sounds beyond the alley. Over and over again she strikes the door until her knuckles begin to bleed and she is soaked with rain and tears.

Drenched and exhausted she begins to shake.  The fear and the running have flushed the tequila shots from her body and now even the last drops of adrenaline are abandoning her.  She was done she had nothing left to give.  Then she noticed the smell. It was Like a wet animal, or rotting fish, and decay, it was repugnant and growing stronger.  The stench was powerful enough to drown out the rest of the odours of the alley.

The hair on the back of her neck began to rise.  It was drawing closer.  Somewhere so near but she couldn’t tell where in the darkness.  Panic and terror turned into one last burst of energy and she ran as fast as her legs would take her.  But foolishly she hadn’t removed her heels.  The flickering light went out plunging everything into darkness and she slipped and fell.  She felt her head it the ground and heard the sound something breaking and then there was nothing at all.