Knocking On A Stranger's Door - Wicked Writers
I think this deserves a minor explanation, but please read the story itself before you read the explanation if you even want to read the explanation. The explanation will be at the end.
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Why was he doing this? Michael stared at the heavy wooden door that seemed to loom before him despite his more than 6 feet of height. He couldn't do this. What right did he have to do this? He didn't even know these people. But then again, neither had he. Of all the people who should be meeting these people, he had more right to be here than Michael. He should have been there standing next to Michael, both tense and nervous but also excited.
But circumstances had seen otherwise and he wasn't here and instead only Michael stood there in front of the door, sad and solemn and anxious beyond belief. He felt tears welling up where his eyes should be, behind the blindfold he always wore to hide that they were not in fact there. He cleared his throat, fought the tears back, and raised his knuckles to the door.
Knock, knock, knock. And Michael waited, holding his breath. The door swung open and a short woman with familiar reddish hair (like his), only just beginning to grey with age, smiled out at him, unsure of what to make of him no doubt. Behind her a tall man, nearly as tall as Michael himself, watched him cautiously with equally familiar blue eyes (like his).
“Mr. and Mrs. Kohler?” Michael began, “I knew your son...” Their faces quickly cycled through emotions: shock, confusion, excitement, realization, and finally, as they realized what exactly he had said, grief. He could see the emptiness of sorrow works its way into their eyes as the words he had used finally registered. Mr. Kohler moved forward to grip his wife's shoulders and stare this bizarre stranger at their door in the eye.
“I think you should come in,” Mr. Kohler finally spoke up, as his wife let out a choked sob, “We need to talk.”
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The explanation:
The characters in this story are from a project of mine called "How To Be A Villain And Fail Miserably", taking place in a sort of fantasy/steampunk/clockworkpunk sort of setting.
The character Michael is a necromancer, Michael "Crypt" Dean, who technically does not have eyes in his eye sockets, but instead they are in his Necronomicon's cover, linking it to him and him alone.
The he mentioned is Michael's best friend and eventual boyfriend, Spike, a mad scientist who was separated from his parents as a very young infant and supposedly orphaned due to unrest, riots, and murders in their home country based on a genetic mutation, that Spike and his mother both have, which the main religion of their home country viewed as a sign of being a demon.
The other two are, of course, Spike's parents, two scientists themselves. They founded the science institute that Spike eventually ended up at as a baby and was raised and taught at. They've been looking for him in secret ever since they were separated.
On with the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why was he doing this? Michael stared at the heavy wooden door that seemed to loom before him despite his more than 6 feet of height. He couldn't do this. What right did he have to do this? He didn't even know these people. But then again, neither had he. Of all the people who should be meeting these people, he had more right to be here than Michael. He should have been there standing next to Michael, both tense and nervous but also excited.
But circumstances had seen otherwise and he wasn't here and instead only Michael stood there in front of the door, sad and solemn and anxious beyond belief. He felt tears welling up where his eyes should be, behind the blindfold he always wore to hide that they were not in fact there. He cleared his throat, fought the tears back, and raised his knuckles to the door.
Knock, knock, knock. And Michael waited, holding his breath. The door swung open and a short woman with familiar reddish hair (like his), only just beginning to grey with age, smiled out at him, unsure of what to make of him no doubt. Behind her a tall man, nearly as tall as Michael himself, watched him cautiously with equally familiar blue eyes (like his).
“Mr. and Mrs. Kohler?” Michael began, “I knew your son...” Their faces quickly cycled through emotions: shock, confusion, excitement, realization, and finally, as they realized what exactly he had said, grief. He could see the emptiness of sorrow works its way into their eyes as the words he had used finally registered. Mr. Kohler moved forward to grip his wife's shoulders and stare this bizarre stranger at their door in the eye.
“I think you should come in,” Mr. Kohler finally spoke up, as his wife let out a choked sob, “We need to talk.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The explanation:
The characters in this story are from a project of mine called "How To Be A Villain And Fail Miserably", taking place in a sort of fantasy/steampunk/clockworkpunk sort of setting.
The character Michael is a necromancer, Michael "Crypt" Dean, who technically does not have eyes in his eye sockets, but instead they are in his Necronomicon's cover, linking it to him and him alone.
The he mentioned is Michael's best friend and eventual boyfriend, Spike, a mad scientist who was separated from his parents as a very young infant and supposedly orphaned due to unrest, riots, and murders in their home country based on a genetic mutation, that Spike and his mother both have, which the main religion of their home country viewed as a sign of being a demon.
The other two are, of course, Spike's parents, two scientists themselves. They founded the science institute that Spike eventually ended up at as a baby and was raised and taught at. They've been looking for him in secret ever since they were separated.
On with the story.