Killing Time (standard:fantasy, 4300 words)
Author: mysnfrigginrocks	Added: Nov 03 2006	Views/Reads: 2824/1944	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Adventure-comedy-fantasy story about two guys who accidentally kill Time himself and must restore order to the universe before it collapses.

It was an ominous night in New York City. Dave looked around uneasily,
wondering what sort of things would be lurking in the shadows in this 
area of the city. 

“Are you sure it's completely safe here?” he asked, trying not to think
about how far they still had to go. 

“Of course I'm sure!” his friend Jon answered, walking ahead with
purpose, “It's not the worst part of town! Just not the cleanest.” 

“Oh, you're sure, huh? Just like you were absolutely sure that the
apartment was just beyond that intersection?” 

“Hey, hey, man! We've been over this. I just had the wrong intersection
that time. It's a little tougher to tell them apart in the dark. But 
this route should get us there in a couple minutes tops!” 

“Yeah...” Dave answered, still looking around uneasily. 

It definitely wasn't the nicest part of town. Actually, it looked like
the kind of rough neighborhood where all the drug dealers had their 
home base and the little kids all learned how to pick pockets. The 
smell of a nearby Dumpster was in the air and a stray cat with half a 
tail was pawing through the trash and broken beer bottles on the ground 
next to an overturned trash can. 

“I don't know,” Dave said, just louder than a whisper, “This place
doesn't look too safe to me. I feel like we could get attacked at any 
moment by some gang of chainsaw murderers.” 

“That's ridiculous!” Jon scoffed, “You're just being paranoid.” He
thought for a moment. “Besides, what kind of idiot would try to kill a 
chainsaw?” 

Dave sighed and shook his head, trying not to smile. Jon was a good
friend, if a little unreliable, and hanging around him was certainly 
never boring. A bit on the muscular side, Jon's good looks, charm, and 
general personality always made him the life of the party. Even if 
there was no "party" strictly speaking, that never deterred Jon. He 
would just create one. 

A tight T-shirt was his only protection against the onsetting cold of
the autumn night, but he seemed blissfully unaware of it, as always. 
His unruly blond head contrasted with Dave's short, orderly dark brown 
hair. Dave was the lankier of the two, a bit too pale, and peering 
through glasses that would have looked nerdy on some people, but gave 
him the appearance of being only slightly smarter than average. 

“Come on,” Dave said, “are you trying to tell me this doesn't give you
the creeps at all?” 

“The only creeps around these parts are those dang New York Yankees!”
Jon violently spit his gum out on the ground. “Red Sox all the way, 
man! Now come on, let's just keep moving and we'll be outta here that 
much quicker.” 

They kept walking through the darkness. There weren't many lights in the
area and several of the nearby buildings looked like they'd been 
abandoned for years. The place was eerily silent except for the sound 
of their footsteps and Jon whistling a happy tune. 

Dave got busy trying to distract himself, imagining how nice it would
feel to get some shut-eye back at the dorm. He had almost succeeded in 
putting his surroundings out of his mind when he heard a voice to one 
side that made him nearly jump out of his skin. 

“Excuse me, sirs!” 

Dave froze in fear as a dirty old man came trudging out of a dark alley.


“Oh,” he mumbled, seeing the look of alarm on Dave's face, “didn't mean
to startle you, young man. I was wondering: could you spare any food? 
Or money, perhaps? I'm afraid I have no place to go home to.” 



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