Dark Days

• Stefan Helberg, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

Twelve-year-old Felixe was in an abandoned insane asylum in a padded panic room. The only object in the barren room was a dim hanging light bulb, its orange glow changing the white walls of the room into an eerie orange. He didn’t have a clue where he was. How long he had he been there, it had been least a week, since the kidnaping.
He had a hunch why he was here though; his father was the president of America and he’d seen soviet propaganda on his way in. So, he put two and two together.
There was a banging sound from the door. A mysterious figure of a skinny middle-aged man carrying a plate of mouldy bread and half an over cooked steak, limped in. He placed the tin plate on the flour and shut the door. The food was disgusting. He didn’t care. He hadn’t gotten so much as a morsel since he got there.
When Felixe had finished eating the man took of an expertly crafted prosthetic leg and pried out a black tommy-gun.
“Go ahead, end me!” protested Felixe as the dams of his eyes burst.
“Settle down,” whispered the man with a slight chuckle “I work for your father.”
Then it clicked. Most of the USA would be looking for Felixe, it was only a matter of time before he was rescued.
“Are you in or are you out!? Sarcasm plagued his voice.
“I don’t really have a choice now do I” Felixe giggled. “So, what’s the plan?” his voice becoming stern and serious.
“The exits about ninety feet away and is guarded by two men. Everyone else should be at a meeting.” Explained the man with great enthusiasm “When they hear gunshots they’ll be her in about thirty seconds. Most of them are equipped with a small revolver. Once were out an escape vehicle will meet us. Understand?”
“I think so,” sighed Felixe “but what do these men want.”
“You’re in over your head, Kid.” the man pointed out. “Let’s go before they start looking for me.”
And so, they were of the man in front and Felixe close behind. The two guards started shouting in a foreign language and as soon as they realised that they weren’t getting a reply, they opened fire on Felixe and the man. It was too late though. The man shooting a barrage of bullets into their chests. They slumped down as if they had a long day at work.
Bang! “Mommy” was the man’s last words as a bullet cleanly pierced his hart. His cold dead eyes piercing into Felixe’s soul. Without thinking he grabbed the tommy-gun and decided, anything that got in between him, and the exit would be shot.
Three dead men later he was opening the grand doors when, Bang! He was shoot in the heart. He was dying. He turned to see his killer. It was his older brother. With an evil chuckle he said, “Sorry bro it’s just business!”