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priscaTitle: Roaring fire
Character: Mr. Smith, Kurdy Malloy
Word Count: 495
Prompt: Any/Any/roaring fire
Finished: 08.11.2021
:::
Smith was tossing and turning around in bed fidgety. Finally, Kurdy couldn't endure it any longer; he switched on the light and sat up. „Hey, what do you think about a nightcap? Last week we found some boxes with Whiskey at an abandoned bar. The good, old stuff.“
The little guy hesitated, then opened his eyes. „Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. Maybe I can find a place for the night elsewhere; I'm easy to please.“
„No, stay here, it's okay.“ Kurdy shrugged. „But there is nothing you need to worry about; the Mountain is a safe place. No one will come in here without getting noticed.“
„I deal with all sorts of danger every day anew; that's nothing that can scare me. It's the enemy inside me who doesn't let me rest. He brings the nightmares about the future of the world; so dark and cruel, without any hope when I fail.“
„This sounds weird,“ Kurdy said, feeling uneasiness rising. „You are not responsible for the world. Not even Markus thinks that he can save everyone, even if he tries his best for the people living here.“
„That's why I am here.“ Smith eyed him unsmilingly. „God says: 'The future of the world will start at the Mountain.' I guess saving your life was just the first step.“
Kurdy breathed in deeply, inwardly cursing, wishing that he would have followed his instincts yesterday evening. No, he was not frightened so easily, had seen too much during the last fifteen years, and had learned to deal with it. But from the very first moment they met, Smith had given him the creeps. It hadn't been a good idea to bring him to the Mountain, but it had felt as if he owned him. Because, yes, probably he had saved his life.
It had looked like a hopeless situation; he had been alone on the road when the group of skinheads had surrounded him, demanding the jeep, holding him at gunpoint. He already prepared himself to die; the skinheads didn't take any prisoners. What exactly had happened next, he couldn't say. There had been an explosion, a roaring fire all over the place. And Smith, who seemed to step right out of the flames. Unarmed, only a backpack over his shoulder, he stepped closer to the skinhead's leader, putting his hands around his head. Until the big guy was falling onto his knees, whimpering slightly, while his henchmen had taken flight, without caring about him.
Kurdy stared down at the little guy. No, this was too much. It was in the middle of the night, his day hadn't been the best, and the last he wanted was discussing bullshit like this. He swang his legs out of his bed, grabbing for his jeans. „Guess I can need a Whiskey now,“ he murmured and rushed out of the room. For sure, he wouldn't come back before Smith had left the Mountain again.
Character: Mr. Smith, Kurdy Malloy
Word Count: 495
Prompt: Any/Any/roaring fire
Finished: 08.11.2021
:::
Smith was tossing and turning around in bed fidgety. Finally, Kurdy couldn't endure it any longer; he switched on the light and sat up. „Hey, what do you think about a nightcap? Last week we found some boxes with Whiskey at an abandoned bar. The good, old stuff.“
The little guy hesitated, then opened his eyes. „Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. Maybe I can find a place for the night elsewhere; I'm easy to please.“
„No, stay here, it's okay.“ Kurdy shrugged. „But there is nothing you need to worry about; the Mountain is a safe place. No one will come in here without getting noticed.“
„I deal with all sorts of danger every day anew; that's nothing that can scare me. It's the enemy inside me who doesn't let me rest. He brings the nightmares about the future of the world; so dark and cruel, without any hope when I fail.“
„This sounds weird,“ Kurdy said, feeling uneasiness rising. „You are not responsible for the world. Not even Markus thinks that he can save everyone, even if he tries his best for the people living here.“
„That's why I am here.“ Smith eyed him unsmilingly. „God says: 'The future of the world will start at the Mountain.' I guess saving your life was just the first step.“
Kurdy breathed in deeply, inwardly cursing, wishing that he would have followed his instincts yesterday evening. No, he was not frightened so easily, had seen too much during the last fifteen years, and had learned to deal with it. But from the very first moment they met, Smith had given him the creeps. It hadn't been a good idea to bring him to the Mountain, but it had felt as if he owned him. Because, yes, probably he had saved his life.
It had looked like a hopeless situation; he had been alone on the road when the group of skinheads had surrounded him, demanding the jeep, holding him at gunpoint. He already prepared himself to die; the skinheads didn't take any prisoners. What exactly had happened next, he couldn't say. There had been an explosion, a roaring fire all over the place. And Smith, who seemed to step right out of the flames. Unarmed, only a backpack over his shoulder, he stepped closer to the skinhead's leader, putting his hands around his head. Until the big guy was falling onto his knees, whimpering slightly, while his henchmen had taken flight, without caring about him.
Kurdy stared down at the little guy. No, this was too much. It was in the middle of the night, his day hadn't been the best, and the last he wanted was discussing bullshit like this. He swang his legs out of his bed, grabbing for his jeans. „Guess I can need a Whiskey now,“ he murmured and rushed out of the room. For sure, he wouldn't come back before Smith had left the Mountain again.