Stanley – 32


 STANLEY

Season 2

Part 32

Rated M for mature content.

Previous Chapter


She had the impression they had been running for hours as they finally slowed down to a normal walking pace. They entered the fast food, trying to act as normal as possible despite their heavy breathing and the fact that both of them were drenched in sweat. They sat down at a table after ordering something to eat; Michel had insisted he “fill his belly with the sweet delight of fast cuisine” and she hadn’t had the heart to say no, her stomach rumbling at the smell of those delicious fries. Her partner started devouring his meal immediately and she followed in turn, both famished after having to run away from that horde of cops.

They had been halfway through the second rooftop when they had heard the shouts of police officers telling them to stop coming from the stairway behind them. How they had managed to get up there so fast was something Stephanie couldn’t explain but they had managed it. Of course neither of them had hesitated even a single second before starting to run faster, she couldn’t get caught, especially not after what she had done. She didn’t manage to stop herself from cringing at the thought, it had all been for naught… Plus she didn’t have a very fond memory of prison cells. Apparently Michel wasn’t too keen on letting himself get caught either because he lead the way without slowing down.

Where the shouts of the police officers had not even fazed her a bit, the first gunshots had almost made her freeze on the spot, almost. It had been surprising, she had never heard a gunshot from such little distance and the whizzing of the bullets as they rushed past both of them was quite surprising too but, since Michel didn’t skip a beat in his run, she didn’t stop and kept running. They had cut it close, very close even, she had to admit that. Even with all her good will and the energy she put into moving her legs one in front of the other at the highest speed possible she couldn’t help but being a little scare, or, more precisely, a bit apprehensive. Being on a rooftop wasn’t that dangerous in itself if one knew how to keep one’s balance and not to do anything stupid. The problem is that they were doing all the stupid possible at that moment: running at full speed, not caring where they stepped, running away from cops and being shot at. Not the most clever thing she had done in her life…

She had barely felt anything as the bullet had grazed her on the right side of her chest, making a hole in her jacket, it had been the feeling of wetness and the dizziness that had come after that had alerted her that something was wrong. She hadn’t said anything though, not before they had managed to get back down to the street. Then, and only then, as the cries of the police officers on the rooftops could still be heard, she had told Michel.

“Let’s get to the car first , we’ll see that then,” she had replied as he had advised to check her wound.

They had driven off as quickly as possible, somehow evading all the police cars on the way and had finally ended up in the commercial zone. Michel had parked the car near a mall and had bought a few supplies to treat her wound while she was evaluating the damage. In the end it hadn’t been to serious, a gash on her side and nothing more. Still hurting but with a clean wound and a reassured mind, they had walked in the nearest fast food to grab a quick bite. And here they were, unsure of what to do next, if they had been tracked by the police or if they were now fugitives. After all, the cops hadn’t been close enough to get a look at their faces so they most likely were safe, but one never knew. Stephanie was starting to relax, thinking back to the apartment and the clues they had found as she ate her chicken burger, when she saw the three men in black suits walk in the room.

To be continued…

Stanley – 31


 STANLEY

Season 2

Part 31

Rated M for mature content.

Previous Chapter


The dark-haired young woman and her more-light-colored-hair friend were about to move out of the apartment towards the staircase when they suddenly heard the police sirens that had been in the background since a few minutes ago ring out much closer and tires screeching as cars came to a halt in front of the building. They both stopped in their tracks as they were about to walk towards the elevator and looked at each other.

“Do you think we should go check it out très chère?” Asked Michel after a few seconds spent trying to figure out what was indeed happening.

Stephanie simply nodded before rushing back into the apartment and looking out the window. She immediately froze as she saw almost a dozen policemen in uniforms rush out of their cars and enter by the front door. The young woman somehow immediately knew they were coming exactly where they were, how she knew that would remain a mystery but somehow she did.

“Damn it!” She swore as she backed away and looked at Michel who had looked out the window too.

“What do we do maintenant?” He asked with a tense expression.

“I don’t know…” Replied the young woman as her brain fumed, trying to come up for a solution to get out of the hellhole they were trapped in.

They couldn’t leave by the front entrance, it would seem to suspicious but they couldn’t very well stay there either because it would almost certainly insure their capture and their prosecution as The Duck’s murderers. No one would believe them if they tried to explain what they were doing here, especially not her. Plus everything would come to light, everything she had had to do. The young woman shivered at the thought. No, it couldn’t happen, they had to get out.

“This way?”

She turned towards the bearded man as she heard his voice, he was pointing towards the window. As her eyes followed his well muscled and tanned arm she imagined herself being wrapped in it and relishing the moment as her mind went back to the previous night. Then she saw the staircase and it all became clear, the fog clouding her mind seemed to go away and she let a smile spread across her face as she understood what he meant. Of course! She thought. The emergency staircase! 

“Yes, you’re a genius!” She exclaimed as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before rushing towards the red metallic structure outside the window.

Michel followed her closely after closing the window as best as he could behind him. They ran as fast as they could up the stairs, hearing the sounds of policemen entering the apartment soon after they had exited it. The young woman thanked the upcoming summer and all those sessions at the gym for her cardiovascular system’s good shape. They finally arrived on the roof after a few seconds of silent effort and she didn’t have time to catch her breath as they started moving again.

To be continued…


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Welcome to life.

I feel crazy. I’m excited, elated, unable to rest, focus nor calm down. Ideas, so many ideas. Or, more seriously, flashes, bribes, pieces of ideas, coming, going, dancing all around me, toying with me, my emotions and my memory. I have beginnings, ends and a thousand romances in between my fingers but none of them can I write down because of this unstable state of mind. Jumping from Ore to Alexandre then to the one with the magic ink writer back to the Halfling and so on and so forth. every moment of every second! I want to make something out of this, out of these ideas. Something good, something great, I want to write, to tell my stories, but I can’t… not until I settle down and make a choice, decide, choose, set the course and follow a single path. So many possibilities. Exhilerating, annoying, awesome feeling but frustrating. With ifs I could rebuild the world from scratch. But that’s not what I wanna do, I want to build my world from scratch. I want to, I need to, I have to, I will. But how? When? Soon. Perhaps. I hope. I can’t decide. I can’t write if I can’t decide. I have to write. Damn it!


 

So this is something that I wrote an evening, a few days ago, as I was trying to write something but couldn’t manage for my life to write down anything I had in mind. I just went with the feeling and let the pen do what it had to, I let my hand guide itself and came up with this rant. I don’t know why but tonight a song reminded me of this rant and the feeling I had in my heart while I was writing it. I have such amazing stories to write, such great ideas I don’t manage to make the most of… It’s extremely frustrating! You can’t even imagine! Or perhaps you can, I don’t know… But I the worst is that I realized that this doesn’t only apply to my writing, it also happens in the rest of my life too!I’m not someone who can manage to get motivated without any reason or to be serious and dedicated in doing things.

‘I have beginnings, ends and a thousand romances in between my fingers but none of them can I write…’

Especially my studies and finding a job.I try but not enough and, as soon as it gets hard or complicated I avoid it as best I can. Unconsciously or consciously I don’t know but it does happen. And in writing it happens too, I try but when I struggle I move on to something else and don’t try hard enough… It’s a big problem. I realize that but getting over it is extremely hard. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, at least not easily or very quickly, but I am working on it. I will be trying harder, even my hardest, to work on my writings because it’s one of the only things I really feel motivated for! Also I will try to apply some of that motivation to my studies, I like what I’m doing this year, I can’t screw things up, I have to suck it up and just do it.

If I try hard enough then, one day, perhaps…

Anyway, I’m not here to rant, just to try to explain what motivated me to write this and what I feel. I don’t know why, I just had to do it… I think that this song is not for nothing in this feeling : “J’essaye, j’essaye” from the Casseurs Flowters, a french singer (or band I don’t really know), which I just discovered and fell in love with. I’m not usually a fan of the genre of music they make but this time I seem to really be growing fond of it. Both the melody and the lyrics stir something inside me in a way that I don’t really understand but that I can feel deeply. Especially during the parts where the old woman sings. I can’t explain it, I can just feel it. It’s a bit like when I read poems that, without knowing, I end up loving for reasons unknown to me. And I wanted to share it a bit with you, somehow hoping you could get what I feel or at least what I mean or try to mean…

Anyways, that’s all for tonight, thank you all and enjoy. :)

♪ J’essaye, j’essaye de faire de mon mieux et je m’ennuie quand tout devient sérieux. ♫

(I don’t know if you’ll be able to understand the lyrics but both the meaning and the melody are worth listening to, at least they really get to me.)


Oh, and just before I go : no Echoes of Power tonight, I have literally no idea about how I’m going to write the next part which is very important and is going to (hopefully) start the really interesting part of the story (I also have very little motivation, which really doesn’t help). So yeah, no update on that side today, hopefully tomorrow I’ll have figured out how I want to write this and with great luck you might even get two parts instead of one. Who knows… In the mean time, have a great evening and see you later.

The death of a king

*

There once was an old king,

From a far away land he had come,

Chased away by his kin,

Many years before when the revolt happened.

.

They said he was a monster,

They said he had to pay with his life

For the sins of his father

And all those that had lived before

.

So his parents fled their land,

Taking the young child on a long journey

Across oceans and mountains,

Through forests and fields of barley.

.

They ran and ran and ran,

As fast as they could to escape their pursuers

But hey were caught up with

And only the boy managed to keep going.

.

He lived a long and full life,

Sometimes looking back towards the land

Where he had come from,

But never halting his march forward.

*

Every man has to die. It is fact, one day or another each and every one of us will pass on to whatever comes next. Whatever we do, whatever we try, death will always catch us. Wether we are a simple citizen or a king, whether we are rich or poor, whether we are a good man or a bad one. Death will always catch up with us. But that is not necessarily a bad thing, for what would life be if it wasn’t for death? Would we come to appreciate it as much if it never came to an end? No, I don’t believe so. Life is a gift and we have to make the most of it, however hard or painful it is, we have to keep marching forward, we have to keep going. Always.