|The Falling Man (standard:horror, 2550 words)|
|Author: Mark Tival||Added: Nov 15 2007||Views/Reads: 1859/1039||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A man sees some one being pushed out of the window and discovers the thruth|
The Falling man Mark pushed his way through the dense crowd pushing those who got in his way his mind not on the path his feet were following. He was thinking about all the things he had to do. He was so deep in though he didn't realise he had begun muttering to himself. He barely noticed that he didn't have to push people out of the way any more, they mistaking his mutterings for some thing else, much more sinister. The sound of the crowds washed over him a thousand different voices mingled to one so that he could understand none of them even if he listened. Around him the skyscrapers burst seemingly out of the ground like tall needles made of glass that shone in the morning sun, every so often blinding him momentarily with a reflected flash of brilliant white light. One brighter flash momentarily pulled him out of his mind to look around and stop muttering to himself, some thing he had begun to do more often recently he worried to himself. Pulling his hand out of his coat pocket he looked down at his watch and swore softly to himself, shit, he was going to late again for the morning meeting. ‘bugger' he muttered as he began to have to push his way through the mass of bodies, nudging them at first softly out of his way, then harder if they refused to move. The centre of New York was hell to navigate at rush hour, some thing Mark had realised his first day when he had burst into the office late apologising for being late. That had been three years ago and he had just come out from the deepest fringes of Nevada, from a small town with only a few thousand people in it. He had stepped out on his first day to chaos and had almost immediately felt claustrophobic. The amount of people, the horns and the multitude of colours of the cars as they swept past him like a thick clogged artery. Mark smiled as he recalled the memory of how naïve he had been. Now he knew different, now he knew. He looked at his watch again knowing there was really no need; he would defiantly be late by now, ‘Yup,' he murmured to him self as he looked at his wrist watch, a cheep plastic one but the best he could afford. Its deep black numbers read 9:03 at him. They were going to be annoyed he knew but after all the crap they handed down to him every day he worked for them Mark really didn't care any more. He just wanted to get to the office and have his morning coffee. Then, he thought, just maybe I'll think about listening to their discipline hearing. He smiled to himself knowing the shouting he was in for. ‘To hell with them' he said out loud attracting a few strange looks from the other people and continued to push his way along the busy street as he and thousands of others made their way to work, none of them seeing the world around them, not even Mark. * The first he realised something was wrong was when the woman next to him began to scream and point upwards to one of the skyscrapers her long slightly Arthritic finger straighter than it had been for years, than it would ever be again. Along with the rest of the crowd who had hear the woman's scream Mark looked up at where she was pointing and his heart jolted in horror. One thought rushed through his head, ‘surly life wasn't that bad'. Up on one of the tall skyscrapers a small figure stood their feet placed on the window ledge the tips of their shoes just off the edge. The thought crossed Marks mind before it was shouted out in fright by the same woman who had screamed in the first place, ‘He's going to jump,' even though he was late along with the rest of the crowd Mark stood transfixed his head tilted up to look at the person stood half out of the window. Even from the distance he was Mark could see the wind whipping at his jacket pulling it around him, his tie blowing about flapping into his face. The figure, obviously now a man didn't even try to pull it back down, he just allowed it to blow there. Then he saw it. Another figure came up behind the man, hidden in the shadow of the office or house Mark didn't know which and pushed. The man fell, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, out of the window. He fell through the air falling as if in slow motion uncaring for the people below him whose screams would surely reach him. Mark stood unable to move hearing the cries and screams of the people around him, screaming murder. He didn't hear them, he simply watched as the person fell, their arms now out stretched almost like an eagles. He began to pick up speed the air whooshing past him at such a speed that his jacket was ripped from his body. Suddenly Marks legs galvanised and he began to run along with the rest of the crowd, who had started to move also towards the place where the man would hit the ground. His heart pounding in his throat sickened at the thought of what he might find there Mark ran along the block, just to his left he could see the Click here to read the rest of this story (124 more lines)
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