Stories I Never Finished

Snake Eyes

P R E V I E W

Heavenly smoke as toxic as it's nicotine addiction floated soft through dying night air, skies above pitch black, dwindling stars fading into the chaos of the distant world beyond human reach.

Despite the drowning sound of a broken car horn, airbags exploded and glass tearing human flesh into bloodied massacre shreds, the highway world was lonesome, quiet in its stillness.
Blood-stained fingers grasped gentle hold of the smouldering cigarette between chapped lips, pulling it free with a deep breath heavy from tired lungs.

Each step taken in dirtied black boots crunched against the dried-out tarmac road, headlights of a crashed vehicle swallowing the darkness against erratic shadows spilling through fallen trees.
Calum could hear his own breathing within his body, aching muscles and torn flesh the very least of his concerns as loose brown hair grazed his eyes against the subtle wind—his focus fading in and out of its blurry state.

He listened to the night's screams but never dared to look back toward the sobbing woman crawling from the unrepairable wreck of his vehicle.

"I hate you!" She screamed at him, eyes bleeding red from glass torn through soft skin, fingernails broken against their desperate clawing into hard bitumen road—unable to pry herself from beneath the upturned vehicle.

"Get back here! Don't you run from this!"

Dark brown eyes floated against a blackened shadow within, and Calum didn't utter a word—tossing his cigarette to the ground with a flick of his fingers, discarding his old life with it.

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Calum was fully aware of how bedraggled he looked, and if by chance he hadn't been then the sharp hazel eyes that met his approach within a run down highway motel would have certainly exposed the truth to his tired self.

The motel was nothing special, a worn out block of land for passing travellers—majority being truck drivers too exhausted to go any further without a rest, even if the only option was to sleep on rusting beds and decade old mattresses.
After hours of mindless wandering down a highway that was supposed to be his new chance at life, Calum found himself giving up just like all those truck drivers and entered the main reception of the 24/7 horror.

The young man at the counter didn't seem impressed to have a customer, standing up from their old wooden seat behind the register and loudly putting their large book down on the counter's surface with an annoyed thud.

The man with sun-blotched skin and messy brown hair was youthful, despite the years of exhaustion and hatred riddled through the purple beneath dull hazel eyes, and wore plain brown and denim clothing that had most definitely been plucked from thrift stores and lost property boxes.
Whatever life he had lived to lead him to his current point, Calum truly didn't envy it.

His gaze flickered over Calum's bloodied and clothe-torn state, annoyance carved into his face, but he said nothing of the bloodied mess the brunet had tracked into his motel.

"After four clock in charges extra." He braced his hands against the counter's wooden surface, blunt nails tapping in rhythm to the ticking clock Calum couldn't find.
"Can be cheap for a four night package, but you don't look like you'll be staying that long..."

"How much for one?" Calum asked. He needed rest, his body was burning with sins of a chaotic night and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take.

"Hundred bucks." The man seemed to think about it for a second before answering, holding an expectant hand out. "Cash only."

Calum raised an eyebrow at him, the shady act not going unnoticed, but nonetheless pulled his beaten wallet from his pocket and pried cash notes from inside torn leather.
He passed them over, watching as the receptionist merely spared their bloodied state a glance before shoving them into his own pocket.