Shortstory Fragment. a time consuming cut.
She ran. She had been running for what felt like days through the strangely empty canyons made by the glass and steel towers around her. Still he kept up with her. The pain in her side and lungs was unbearable, but still she ran, her heart practically beating out of her chest.
“You can not outrun me you know, Cassandra,” he called, his smooth voice echoing in her head, “I will always find you.”
She didn’t dare answer him, for it was difficult enough to keep her breath running so hard. Then she heard it, the welcoming sound of traffic. She turned the corner and ran toward a convenience store on the next corner that was open.
“You look worn out, Miss, like you been running all night,” the clerk said as Cassandra entered the store. After catching her breath she asked if she could use the phone. The clerk, seeing that she was clearly distressed let her without question.
“Mitchell residence…can I help you…?” asked a sleepy voice on the other end of the phone.
“It’s Cassie. I didn’t know who else to call. There is someone chasing me and I need somewhere to go. Please Steven, I need your help.”
“Whoa there, slow down, Cass. Who’s chasing you? And where the hell are you?”
“I’m in a deli on the corner of South and Main. I know that your condo is near here, I really want to get off the street I think I might be in danger.”
“Alright, stay there. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. If I’m not there by quarter after don’t panic, they were doing some work on the elevator in my building and I’m not sure if they finished after I got in yesterday afternoon…see you in a few”
“Ok I’ll wait here. Thanks Steve,” she said as she hung up the receiver. Cassandra checked her watch. 3:50 a.m. She had been running for at least 2 hours. How had she been running for so long and not run into anyone…? Not one lighted window. Or one open store… How had she come so far without encountering anyone?
“Do not worry, Highness. My men will have her by this evening and they will bring her straight to you,” the man said, his voice smooth as silk.
“You had better deliver her in person, alive, and unharmed, as soon as the sun sets, Trent. Unless you’d like to witness sunrise again,” The prince finished. Trent had no love for the new prince of the city. He had worked to hard for this upstart braggart to come in and ruin his plans.
Steven was a man in his early thirties, tall, tan, good looking, and independently wealthy due to a huge inheritance from his mother’s parents. He entered the store with the aire of royalty.
“Good morning, Miss Steenwell. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,” Steven said, the sleepiness that had been in his voice over the phone gone. Cassandra didn’t say anything, she just threw her arms around him and held him as if she would fall off the earth if she let go.
“What is it, Cass? What’s wrong?”
“I told you on the phone. Someone is after me.”
“Come on, let’s go to my condo. We’ll talk about it there.” With that said, they walked back up the street and into the building where Steven’s condo was.
Once inside the richly furnished, up-town home Cassandra told Steven of the man that had been chasing her earlier that evening.
“…and that’s when I found the convenience store and called you,” she finished.
“That’s quite an interesting story, a mysterious invitation to an otherwise deserted restaurant from an unknown man claiming to be…what was it?”
“An admirer interested in my work,” she said.
“So, does this admirer have a name or did he just get right down to chasing you through the streets?”
“He told me his name was Captain Sir Trent of Avon, of her Majesty’s Royal Navy. He certainly looked the part, with his very British, almost Victorian, suit and bowler hat, but something in my gut told me not to trust him and, as I said before, I sipped at a glass of club soda for about half an hour while he went on about how I ‘truly captured my subject’ and ‘never before had he read such inspiring work.’ I was unimpressed, not only because I thought all he wanted was to get me in bed, but because if my work is really that ‘inspiring’ why can’t I get it published.”
“I told you if you wanted it published I’d publish it, Cass. I think it’s good, just because some stuffed shirts don’t, doesn’t mean anything.”
“That’s not the point, Steve. I think that he realized that I thought he was full of shit, because all of a sudden it was like he changed completely, he told me that I should come with him to meet ‘someone important.’ That’s when I told him that I’d had enough club soda and thanked him for a lovely evening, but that I had to go. I got up to leave and he told me that I had to come with him. I told him to get lost and went to leave and…” she stopped then, looking off into space as if suddenly caught in a daydream.
“…And?” Steven pressed.
“Sorry,” she replied, snapping back into focus, “Trent, or whatever his name really was, tried to get me to go meet whoever it is that he wanted me to meet. I told him that I really had to go and I threw on my coat and ran for it.”
“And he ran after you?”
“More then that, he seemed too fast, he kept getting ahead of me, chasing me back the way I’d come, back and forth. I thought that I was going to pass out I was running so hard. And then I got away.”
“Wait? He was faster than you before and you got away?” Steven said, skeptically.
“Yeah I…well…I…I guess he let me go,” Cassandra realized.
Trent sat comfortably in the back of his car thinking of the events of the night. Why did I let her go? I could have easily caught her. Am I getting soft in my old age? I am just over five hundred… Perhaps I just felt a little sorry for her. She is the youngest member of my family. Yet I believe that she will come around. I think I will extend her another invitation…one that I know she will not refuse. He smiled to himself confidently.
“Aaron. I have changed my mind. I would like to make one more stop before we go back home,” he smiled to his driver, “Take me to this address.” He handed a slip of paper to his driver.
“Sir, I’m not sure that we can get there and back before sunrise,” the driver told him.
“Nonsense. My business there will not take very long, and we still have almost three hours until sunrise,” Trent scoffed, “Besides, even if we do not make it back before first light, I have my shades here in the back, and you have nothing to fear from the sunlight.”
“Yes, Sir,” the driver complied, knowing that further argument could demote him severely.
The Limousine pulled smoothly into the driveway of 28 Harrington Avenue. The mailbox read ‘Steenwell.’ Trent got out of the car and approached the front door, as he did so a dog could be heard barking inside, and a light went on in one of the upstairs windows. A middle-aged man answered the door in his pajamas, a bathrobe wrapped around him and slippers on his feet. “Can I help you?” he asked in a slightly annoyed slightly sleepy voice.
“Actually I believe you can,” Trent began, “Are you Walther Steenwell?”
“Yes,” the man replied.
“Do you have a daughter? Cassandra?”
“Yes. Is something wrong?” Walther begged, “Is she in trouble?”
“No, no. Calm down,” Trent commanded, “I was just wondering if I could have a word with her.”
“She’s not here, she took a bus into the city last night and said that she might stay at a friend’s house if her meeting went too late.”
“Actually that is why I have come. You see, she left our meeting rather abruptly, and I was wondering if I could have another meeting with her tonight at my firm,” Trent said, producing a business card from his coat pocket, “You see, I am very interested in publishing her work. It is, I believe, truly forward thinking and may even win awards, possibly even the Nobel Prize. See that she is at the firm at 7:15 this evening.” Walther’s face was alight with pride. He took the card and thanked Trent profusely. Even as the door slammed behind Trent he could hear Walther running up the stairs shouting for his wife to wake.
“You see, Aaron. You made all that fuss for nothing. I told you that I would not be long here,” Trent gloated as he situated himself in the back of the car.
“Sorry Sir, just trying to be helpful is all,” the driver responded.
“Yes well…take me to the Firm. I will spend the day there so that I may be able to expedite getting Miss Steenwell to his highness.”
“After the way he treated you, you are really going to give her to him?”
“No. I’m going to present her and the writ that his predecessor gave me allowing for me to take her as my newest progeny. She looks so much like my own daughter and I would never allow his Highness to have her.” He seemed to spit the word ‘highness’ with the utmost distaste. The rest of the ride was quiet, the only sounds those of the road and of the Vivaldi playing softly from the stereo.
This is very long for a post. This is a short story that I've been working on, on and off, since october. I'd really like some feedback, but I understand that people have lives and limited time. If you do decide to read it, please give me any feedback that you have, positive, negative or otherwise. Thank you very much.
James