Creative Writing: A Black Hole In The Woods

The darkness masks the countless clouds that have fashioned the heavy rainfall forming scores of puddles throughout the area that bear a resemblance to miniature pools. The uncanny reflection of the streetlight creates a rather interesting illusion; giving the tiny pools the quality of reflection creating liquid mirrors. At least it looks that way when the light of the streetlamp rebounds off the water. In a darkened alley, on a cobblestone street against a badly damaged brick wall lays Freddie. He is not moving, and it is uncertain if he is even alive. Newspapers line the alley along with several trash containers, which surround his lifeless body. His arms outstretched in two directions, one hand clenched tight, and the other with fingers …show more content…
Watching in amazement, he follows the spotlights as they pass the streets, moving in a timely fashion up and down the road, landing on the buildings and moving up the walls searching meticulously for something. Careful as not to be discovered, he watches the streets from the darkened and watery alley, knowing if he is spotted, it’s over. One particular spotlight catches his eye, it is coming from a large building about a block north of his location, and probably the command center for the German forces he believes. And perhaps he is right, seeing that seven German soldiers are marching up the street coming from that exact location. Based on the desolation of the area, there must be some kind of curfew imposed, he assumes, peeking out the alley extremely nervous from the adrenaline that is reaching levels far beyond the normal status quo, he watches as the soldiers walk past. Without a weapon to defend him, the soldiers unknowingly spread a fearful sentiment that has captured the dark and clammy conditions flawlessly giving the perfect backdrop to this surreal experience. At the mercy of destiny and Germany’s best, Freddie knows their presence spells a lot more than trouble, it indicates …show more content…
The figure in black pushes until a small passageway opens, into the narrow passage the figure goes, leaving no evidence it was ever there. Glaring at the opened brick entrance as it closes, Freddie checks out the alley to make sure the German soldiers have left the area. Once he sees that it is clear he sprints to the spot where the mysterious figure disappeared. Somewhere in the wall, there is a secret opening, knowing this to be true he tries pushing at the bricks. However, nothing happens.
“Come on, which one was it?” He mumbles, pushing apprehensively against other bricks, but there is still no response. His gentle pushes escalate into anxious thrusts in a desperate attempt to open the passage.
“Come on you son of a bitch. I know you’re around here somewhere,” he disappointingly states. Unexpectedly a bright light covers his face, blinding him instantly. “Halt!” the German soldier shouts, his worst uncertainties have materialized, slouching shoulders in submission, he frightfully thinks, “I’m dead,”
“Hande Hoch,” the soldiers shout standing before Freddie, one holding a spotlight and the other a machine gun. Freddie believes his command must be some serious instruction based on the way the heavyset soldier is repulsively looking at him sending him visual messages. By the tone of his voice, Freddie can understand this particular soldier is dangerous.

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