short story practice

Human

Emman tried hard to focus on the sound of motorcycle engines as another kick landed straight to his ribs. He started to taste blood in his mouth, his arms aching as he desperately tries to lessen the impact from the kicks. The trees shook around them, the park emptier than usual, save for the three of them.

High schoolers didn't really know when to draw the line.

A foot suddenly stepped on his head, while the two kids laughed at his helplessness.

"This is what you fucking get when you don't give us what we want, freak," The guy with the foot on his head says, as the other one starts rummaging through Emman's backpack.

"There's nothing in here, Josh. Just a buttload of creepy ass drawings," he says as he puts Emman's drawings up for Josh to see. "Please stop," Emman says weakly, trying to push away the foot resting on his head. Josh adds more weight to it, causing Emman to groan.

"Shut the fuck up freak. What the hell are those? I can't believe we're in the same grade as you," he says, as he looks for something in his jacket pocket. Emman hears a little click of metal.

It was a lighter. They were going to burn his drawings.

No.

Emman started to squirm and push the foot on his head with all his might, causing Josh to lose balance and fall over, lighter bouncing near Sam, the one who has his drawings hostage. Sam immediately gets near to help his friend, while Josh just pushes him away and tells him to go on with it.

"You prick. Get ready to say bye-bye to your drawings!" Josh says, as Sam douses the papers and sketchbooks with lighter fluid, and switching open the lighter.

No.

A couple of flicks, a fire pops out of the lighter.

No.

Too scared to actually do something, he stares in horror as he drops the lighter to his beloved sketches and drawings.

The trees started to sway violently as a strong breeze passed. It almost sounded like something was whispering to Emman. Something trying to make his presence known.

He has never seen something go up in flames that fast before.

Sam screams.

Josh was snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that Sam caught on fire too. "Sam!" he shouts, removing his jacket and desperately trying to put out the flames that was killing his friend.

"What the fuck are you doing? C'mere and help me! What the fuck are you--" he stops mid-sentence, because he sees Emman, his eyes fixated on something behind him and his burning friend. He turns around, and sees a tall, dark, humanoid figure that was too tall and skinny to even be considered human towering over them. He raised a tree branch over his head with both hands.

"Wha--" Splat. The humanoid swung hard, the tree branch hitting Josh square on the head, his skull and brain giving in. The humanoid hit Josh's lifeless body a couple of more times until he was barely recognizable, his bones popping out of places it shouldn't be, his body beaten to a fine pulp.

Emman remained standing, still staring in shock at the humanoid. The humanoid raises his head and locks eyes with Emman.

He gives him the most unnerving smile Emman has ever seen.

Emman faints.

When Emman regained consciousness, he was in a hospital bed room, his mom saying something but everything was muffled. He didn't realize he lost consciousness again until he woke up but this time there were police waiting beside him as well.

What were the police doing here?

Then he remembered. The screams of Sam as the smell of his flesh became burnt. The sound of Josh's bones and body as the humanoid beat him into a pulp using a tree branch.

The humanoid.

The police questioned him everyday when he began feeling better. Emman always gave them the same answers. The bullying. His drawings, how they wanted to burn them, but it backfired. The humanoid beating Josh into a pulp. But the police always seem to come back, hoping for more than a delusional teenager's vision of what had happened.

They were able to save a few of his drawings, all them burnt but his drawings still visible. All of his drawings had one common theme.

A tall, dark, humanoid figure, staring in the trees, smiling.

A detective knocked on his door this time. Not the usual ones who appeared every day, this guy was new.

He pulled a chair and sat down beside Emman's bed. Stealing a quick glance to Emman's burned drawings, he asked him what happened that day. He answered the same thing he did to the police, Bullies, fire went wrong, humanoid figure making Josh into Jello.

"Emman."

Emman looked up to see the detective looking at him, sadly?

Why is he looking at me like that?

"There was no humanoid figure."

Emman stares at him for a good couple of seconds before chuckling. "I don't know what to tell you man, but it was ther--"

"We arrived at the scene with you holding the tree branch, Emman. We arrived there while you were still beating Josh until he could be barely identified."

Oh.

I remember now.

Josh was snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that Sam caught on fire too. "Sam!" he shouts, removing his jacket and desperately trying to put out the fire that was killing his friend.

"What the fuck are you doing? C'mere and help me! What the fuck are you--" he stops mid-sentence, because he sees Emman, his eyes fixated on the both of them. Josh goes back to trying to put the fire out, hoping that Emman would snap out of it and come help. There was no more fire on Sam's body, but there was no sign of breathing either. He slumped down on the ground, grief and devastation hitting him.

He turned to look at Emman.

Emman towered over him, raising a tree branch over his head with both hands.

"Wha--" Splat. Emman swung hard, the tree branch hitting Josh square on the head, his skull and brain giving in. He hit Josh's lifeless body a couple of more times until he was barely recognizable, his bones popping out of places it shouldn't be, his body beaten to a fine pulp. He kept beating him even though he could hear sirens behind him. Emman lets go of the branch, and faints from exhaustion.

Oh.

"I remember now," he says, looking up to see the detective's apologetic face.

He hates it. They deserved it. They deserved the death they got.

"It's going to be alright, okay kiddo?" The detective says as he stands up, arms resting on his hips. "Everything will be--" he cuts off as Emman suddenly grabs the gun from his holster. Emman points the gun at him. The detective raises his hands in front of him.

"Hey kid, listen to me. Drop the gun."

"They deserved it."

A gunshot echoed across the hospital as Emman put a bullet in his own head.