|The Stalker in the Shadows (standard:action, 1063 words)|
|Author: Craven||Added: Oct 03 2003||Views/Reads: 2164/1250||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A ship in the middle of the ocean has a man on a mission. Garl Newliht is out to kill everybody onboard.|
With little time to spare Garl Newliht threw himself over the railing. Flipping in the air and disappearing into the darkness below. A good ten minutes had passed when, after searching in vain, the officers returned to their normal patrols. They stepped cautiously over the rain soaked deck ready for any surprise coming from the shadows. Even though the search for the murderer had ended, they still had to keep a look out. No one really wanted to be the next victim. The butchering had been going on all night. Fear was slowly spreading among the crew. People had only been able to get a quick glimpse of the attacker before he was gone, which made things all the worse. If they could not see their enemy how were they going to stop him? This was how Garl worked best. Like lambs to the slaughter. Stealth, he believed, was the greatest weapon in a one-man war. Taking your target out slowly and not rushing things. Making them think you had gone and then reminding them in the most bloody way imaginable. Skinning your victims and watching their fellow officers recoil in horror and disgust. People called Garl insane, over the edge, but he had more control than anybody else in the whole world. He moved across the deck in a way, which was more like gliding than walking. A short knife held tightly in his right hand and his left holding a napkin. He kept close to the walls letting them conceal him from the crew. Rain made it almost impossible for him to be seen. The falling water giving the area a misty look and the sound of the droplets hitting the deck drowning out his footsteps. Lifeboats hung from the sides. The yellow covers fluttering in the wind. The coverings annoyed Garl, they kept distracting him, making him believe someone was watching him. Like huge ghosts peering onto the ship watching his every movement. He stared at the boats, someone could be hiding inside one of them. He could not have that, no one was allowed to survive. So far Garl had taken out at least two thirds of the whole crew. Taking him hours to do so. At first murdering the crew had been easy but then they knew he was there and as their numbers went down it became increasingly harder to find his next target. They would be cowering all over the ship now. Of course not all of them hid from him some were being over-confident with themselves thinking they were invincible. Garl had dealt with them quickly. Now the place seemed deserted. With a turn of speed he was across the deck and his knife was cutting through the ropes of the lifeboats. Within seconds the wind had caught hold of the cover and was whisking it away. The yellow phantom disappeared into the darkness leaving an empty boat behind. Without dwelling to long on the lack of a body Garl moved on towards the next boat in line. And the next, and the next, and the next... The last of the covers flew away like a magic carpet. He had lost track on how long it had taken him to go through all the lifeboats on the ship. Overall he had only found two people, hugging each other in fear as Garl loomed over them. His knife moved with a blur. Slashing their throats before they even had a chance to scream. Instead of putting them on display he simply through them overboard. They weren't important. He was going after the big prize now, the captain. He leapt up the stairs two at a time. The wind grabbed at him trying to pull him away from the ship but he fought against the cruel fingers grasping his legs. Nothing would stop him from achieving his goal. Garl continued to climb three more flights of stairs before reaching the bridge. Opening a portal he stepped lightly into the corridor. Guessing the direction of the command centre from where he was, Garl walking stealthily, headed towards his target. A smile crept across his face. His mission was nearly over. He could soon rest. Knowing that everybody on the ship was now a dead corpse, except him, the captain and whoever else was on the bridge. He allowed himself a short laugh. This had been all too easy. His plan was simple enough, either slash the captain's throat or suffocate him with his chloroform soaked handkerchief and feed him to Click here to read the rest of this story (31 more lines)
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