A short story

A thin dribble of black filled the cup to its rim. He sipped it to a safer level then made his way back to the living room where he resumed his reading. His focus wavered slightly from the book as a red notice flashed up on the wide screen TV. Three of his six passive infra-red motion detectors had been alerted and now an image of the front courtyard was being uploaded for verification. Just seconds later, the resolution was enhanced revealing two heavily armed men approaching the house up along the driveway. He knew immediately who they were. They had found him.
Beneath their weapons and full battle fatigues the two men shook with fear knowing who they were up against. Even taken by surprise in the middle of the night, the ‘Scorpion’ was a worthy adversary.They nodded to each other then moved into position. Starkey stuck a charge on the intricately carved mahogany door as Mark set up his Galil 99 SR at a safe distance. Starkey ran heavily across the gravel then hit a button on a small radio transmitter. The door disappeared in a spray of splinters and Mark fired at the gaping hole in the wall. When his clip ran dry he dropped the gun and un-holstered his Glock-38. Holding it out in front of him, Mark ran up through the splintering remains of the door and opened fire. Starkey followed him with his AK-105 blazing away chewing up two clips before reverting to his Glock.Two doors lay adjacent to each other at the end of the corridor; the one on the left was their target. A second charge was placed on this door. Starkey armed his frag grenade then signalled to Mark. With the press of a button the door disintegrated and Starkey hurled his grenade into the room. Two seconds later the room erupted in a shower of metal.Silence enveloped them as they entered the room. The Amada leather recliner, taking the full force of the explosion, lay in pieces across the wooden floor boards. Shredded pictures hung unconvincingly on the walls. One broke free from the metallic shards and hit the floor with a clunk. Mark, his nerves now controlling him, swung ‘round and let loose with a short burst from his Glock.The Scorpion grinned momentarily as his plan began to fall into place.The two men stared in horror as their exit disappeared. A solid panel of steel dropped down from a recess in the doorway. “What the f…” Starkey emptied a clip at it sending ricocheting bullets across the room. It hadn’t dented. They searched the walls frantically looking for a vent or window but found none. Suddenly speakers crackled to life around the room.“…I am very sorry for any inconveniences this may be to you but I must inform you that you have walked into a panic room. One of the most secure ever made. See that metal box over near what is left of the fish tank, Starkey? Open it…”Starkey opened the box and produced a small LCD screen attached to a mini keyboard.“…that is your ticket out of their; all you need now is the ten digit authorisation number... Now, see that vent in the ceiling above the fan? In it lie three self emitting tubes of the chemical ‘white star’. On my command these tubes will fill your room with ample amounts of Phosgene and Chlorine to kill you within two days. These chemicals will slowly rip you apart until finally you cough up your internal organs. Now I am a man who believes in second chances so I will give you one chance for one of you to walk out of there alive. You have exactly ten minutes to be the last man alive in that room. If you succeed I will give you the code. Your time starts now…”“You bloody *$%^-wit, open the *&#$%%& door or ill rip your @^$%& head off.”Mark’s threats fell on deaf ears. He glanced at Starkey uneasily. Silence. They backed away from each other not daring to make the first move. When it came, Mark’s attempt was ineffective. His shuriken missed, striking the wall behind Starkey’s head. The metal star quivering in its purchase menacingly. Starkey responded by dropping to the floor and un-holstering his pistol. Mark had gone by the time it was out, taking shelter behind the broken recliner.A small canister rolled out across the floor towards Starkey. He realised what it was a second to late. The ‘flash-bang’ exploded in a blinding flare of light sending Starkey cowering. His head snapped forward as Mark shirt fronted him sending him sprawling into the remains of the fish tank. His head lulled backwards at an awkward angle. Mark checked his pulse then stood expectantly waiting for something to happen.“...congratulations…you have helped me immensely. I must admit that I have not been completely honest with you. There is only one tube of ‘white star’ in the ceiling. Only enough to kill one of you within two days. If both of you were alive you would only suffer moderate internal discomfort, taking up to a week for you to die. I couldn’t have that now, could I?...once again I thank you for your assistance…”A hissing sound snapped Mark out of his daze; he looked up and to his horror saw a mist descending on him. He crawled over to Starkey’s pack and found one last magazine for his Glock. He pressed the loaded pistol against his chin. A starburst of red covered the wall and Starkey’s body slumped over.The scorpion smiled and opened the panic room door. He walked in and breathed the fumes that now hung thick in the air. The smoke machine still coughing out billows of the harmless vapours.

Vaughan

I saw Eternity the other night,

Like a great ring of pure and endless light,

All calm, as it was bright;

And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years,

Driven by the spheres

Like a vast shadow moved; in which the world

And all her train were hurled.

Robert Graves

As I walked out that sultry night,
I heard the stroke of one.
The moon, attained to her full height,
Stood beaming like the sun:
She exorcized the ghostly wheat
To mute assent in love's defeat,
Whose tryst had now begun...

...Your phantom wore the moon's cold mask,
My phantom wore the same;
Forgetful of the feverish task
In hope of which they came,
Each image held the other's eyes
And watched a grey distraction rise
To cloud the eager flame...(of love)

William Worsworth

We Are Seven.

-A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic woodland air,
And she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
-her beauty made me glad.

'Sisters and brothers, little maid,
How many may you be?'
'How many? seven in all,' she said,
And wondering looked at me.

'And where are they? Pray you tell.'
She answered, 'seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

Two of us in the church-yard lie,
my sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.'

'You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet maid, how this may be.'

Then did the little maid reply,
'Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree.'

'You run about, my little maid,
your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.'

'Their graves are green, they may be seen;
The little maid replied,
'Twelve steps or more from my mothers door,
And they are side by side.

My stockings there i often knit,
My kerchief their I hem;
And there upon the ground i sit,
And sing a song to them.

And often after sun-set, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

'The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.'

'So in the church-yard she was laid;
And when then grass was dry,
Together round ther grave we played,
My brother John and I.'

'And when the ground was white with snow,
And i could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.'

'How many are you, then,' said I,
'If they two are in heaven?'
Quick was the little maid's reply,
'Oh, Master! we are seven.'

'But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!'
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little maid would have her will,
And siad, 'Nay, we are seven!'