Write me an ending...

[LilyElizabeth]

This is the beginning of a flash story. You can earn 100 points for finishing it. The best ending (I will be the sole judge) will get the points. It doesn't have to be long - just good.

 

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As darkness decended over the city, Bonart felt the impending doom. Something awful was coming this night - he could feel it. All the omens and portents pointed to horrible things. He hurried along the street, hoping to be home before it all began. He didn't expect to be so lucky.

 

Bonart rounded the corner of Ten Coins Way onto Silver Veils Avenue and stopped. Did that shadow up ahead move? The scent of his own fear-drenched sweat filled the air, and he knew it would attract predators. He looked around frantically for an Inn or somewhere else to shelter, but there was nothing. Any businesses that were in the area were locked up tight. He considered pounding on doors, but he knew it would only increase the smell of his panic.

 

He saw a pile of crates along the side of a building and hid himself with them, prepared to watch the night's events unfold.

[Moon Sedai]

As Bonart hid behind the crates, his heart thumped loudly in his chest. The sweat dripped down his back as he gazed up to the full moon. The portents! He could still remember that old hag cackling at him, predicting his death when he entered her kitchen. She would have her vengeance, send her minions on him.

A flicker of light moved out of the corner of his periphery. There’s that shadow again., he thought. Turning gently to look for a source of the shadow, he felt a hot moisture breathing on his neck. He heard a gentle *squeak* coming from his right, and a sudden *thunk* as he was struck on neck. And there was darkness

 

Three Hours later…..

“Good boy! You Killed that Mouse that’s been eating all our Cheese and crackers! Here, have some bacon! Oh, and you too, girl. I’m certain you helped catch that insurgent!”As Bonart hid behind the crates, his heart thumped loudly in his chest. The sweat dripped down his back as he gazed up to the full moon. The portents! He could still remember that old hag cackling at him, predicting his death when he entered her kitchen. She would have her vengeance, send her minions on him.

A flicker of light moved out of the corner of his periphery. There’s that shadow again., he thought. Turning gently to look for a source of the shadow, he felt a hot moisture breathing on his neck. He heard a gentle *squeak* coming from his right, and a sudden *thunk* as he was struck on neck. And there was darkness

 

Three Hours later…..

“Good boy! You Killed that Mouse that’s been eating all our Cheese and crackers! Here, have some bacon! Oh, and you too, girl. I’m certain you helped catch that insurgent!”

 

 

*Note to ShadowSpawn and Dreadies:

 

In this story, Bonart is the name of a mouse that my dogs killed.

 

[LilyElizabeth]

Interesting take on my beginning..... Anybody else?

[Niel an' Tyomn]

Me! Gimmie a sec

[Niel an' Tyomn]

Whilst hiding amongst the boxes, Bonart could feel the palpable tension in the air. He knew that if he blew this mission ... well the rest needed no explanation... He proceeded to stride with agile, dancerlike grace. And then he paused, as if frozen by a worldwide remote. Everything was about to unfold. A month's work of meddling had brought everyone and everything necessary here at this time. Bonart's black eye's matched the night in movement as well as color.

Then he walked into the alleyway and smiled a cold, all-knowing smile that knew all too well who he was and his location as well. In a panicked state Bonart transported his mind into an alternate source which had been pre-prepared for this one strand of time. This sad fate but all too possible eventuality. As the shadow of a figured launched at him with a knife Bonart's mind was partially transported to his jerda and he was severed. His long life's work was destroyed by a spiteful person who knew his family's secrets all too well. Because, well he was him. Bonart had committed his own suicide. Just as he'd known he'd do.

 

Plot:

 

Bonart was the great-grandfather of a very large spread thick and far family... But he was also a scientist who'd created himself in a much more violent and volatile way... Months prior to that night he'd sent anonymous notes to plenty of people whom were all his children or self-sired grandchildren. But the younger version of himself killed him to prevent this from happening. Also the reference to all of the threads of time were merely him planning out all of the eventualities.

[LilyElizabeth]

Anybody else? An easy way to earn 100 pts.

[Blackhoof]

Bonart heard a growling, a low, throaty sound that echoed through the shadowed streets. Heart pounding, he tried to shrink himself even more, desperately trying to become one with the darkness. Another growl emerged from the blackness down the cobbled avenue, and Bonart strained desperately to see what was making that horrible noise. Suddenly he saw movement- an indistinct smudge of utter blackness in the centre of Silver Veils Avenue.

 

Suddenly, the beast emerged- it's fur as black as night, it's teeth gleaming in the moonlight, it's eyes like rubies and it's claws like knives.

A Werewolf.

 

Rising from it's stalking position, the beast stood on two legs like a man, but it was no man. Growling again, the beast scanned the seemingly empty street, Bonart's blood freezing as it's gaze passed over him. The monster raised it's noise and sniffed the air... once.... twice... three times. Each sniff nearly sent Bonart into a fit of terror, despite his best efforts to calm himself, fear leaked out of his every pore. Any moment now he knew that the creature was going to smell him, give out a roar and pull him screaming from his hiding place, biting and tearing him apart limb from limb.

 

Suddenly a crash sounded further down the street, and the sound of running echoed down the streets. The Werewolf's ears pricked up, and it spun around, baring it's razor teeth. With a snarl, it leaped back into the darkness, chasing after new prey. Bonart waited for what seemed like years as the faint sounds of the werewolf faded, even echoes slowly receding into the distance. Bonart waited even longer, until he was sure that the beast was gone, and only then did he rise from his hiding place and resume his journey home.

 

He spared a thought for whatever unfortunate soul had drawn that beast's attention- hopefully a thief or cutthroat and not an honest soul like him- but Bonart was thankful that whomever the creature's prey was, it wasn't him.

[LilyElizabeth]

Nice job, Hoof. 25 pts, since I already declared a winnner.