Cerberus - Prologue

It was dark outside. The sky was cloudy, and showed no twinkling of star or planet. Beneath the sky, the grass was soft and wet underfoot, lined with hedges. A man moved swiftly and silently through the maze of hedges. In the dark, he appeared to simply be a silhouette. He kept glancing over his shoulder, clearly afraid of something. Then, that something presented itself. Another man stepped from behind a hedge, a gleaming silver knife in his hand. This man had blonde hair, reflecting what little light was available.

The first man ran, knowing that he must get a good luck at his pursuer. He hurtled around one hedge, and kept to a sudden stop as he nearly ran face first into a low brick wall. Quickly, he clambered over the wall, jumping down to the ground one story below. As he landed, he rolled out of the jump. But he continued rolling, crashing into another wall. The mistimed jump had carried him too far.

The second man had reached him, the knife clutched in his hand glinted maliciously at his prey. He grinned. The first man reached into his jacket, towards a shoulder holster. He gripped the pistol there, but it caught in the holster and he was unable to remove it. Swearing as the pursuer approached him, the first man waited until the last moment. Closer, closer. Sharp and agile, he lashed out at the man’s abdomen with his foot.

The knife fell to the concrete floor with a clatter. Somehow, the man found the strength to turn and run, knowing that, despite all the training he had, he was unable to fulfil his mission. The first man picked up the knife and followed him. The pursuer became the pursued as the first man chased the second around the corner. He came to a halt and, with pinpoint accuracy, threw the knife towards his target. The weapon struck home, embedding itself into the second man’s lower leg as he passed underneath the light on one of the walls.

The first man stepped into the light. He was tall, handsome and muscular, with cruel blue eyes and well-styled, short black hair. His face was clean-shaven, completely focused on the job at hand. He was dressed in a black commando suit, a shoulder holster revealing a large pistol, apparently a Glock.

The second man was screaming in agony. As the first approached him, he paused briefly, in order to shout at him.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” he screamed, the pain clearly sounding in his voice.

The first man smiled. “The name’s Collins. Sam Collins.”

For the revised version see http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1755882-Cerberus---Prologue-Revise...