Authors note - before starting this series, please note that this series will contain violence and strong language. Not suitable for younger readers. Teokomst is pronounced , two - coast. Read and enjoy.
I hear the letter hole rattle from upstairs. It is Sunday so I assume that it's a newspaper. I get off my office chair and speed downstairs, I have other things I need to do. I speed down stairs so fast that I stupidly trip over my own foot. I tumble down the rest of the stairs, I'm unable to think. THUD. I hit the hard wooden planked floor. My head hurts like a son of a bitch. Fuck. I get up and immediately notice that the newspaper title was different. Instead of the usual " Sun" it was called "toekomst" . I am fluent in many languages and Dutch was one of them. Toekomst was Dutch for " future" .
Taking the newspaper in my bruised arms I flip over the first page. I shriek and chuck it into the direction of the living room. What the hell was that?! The pictures were moving!
After taking a while to to decide my next move, I collect the spatula from the kitchen , slide it under the hellbound newspaper and drop the newspaper in the bin. Demonic things aren't welcome, sorry.
I flop on down on my couch and sigh. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any more shit. My editor's dead, got a new one who is some stuck up bitch so I have to restart my novel and now this. Bullshit.
I remember that it's Sunday and don't bother to turn on the television. The channels just show old shit that no one finds fucking funny.
I rise to my feet and stare out the window. The clouds are crying outside, streaking my window panes. The cars are zooming through the roads, their wheels storming through murky puddles of rainwater. People are running helter skelter across the streets, hovering their bags over their soaking heads. People running under bus stops and huddling together to keep warm. It's chaos outside.
I'm bored. I make my way into the kitchen and set down my cup and teabags and boil the water. I remember the newspaper. Might as well. I look into the bin and frown. It's not there. I don't bother putting my hands in , I know what's in that bin of mine. So instead I rummage through my storage which is where my second bin is located. To my amazement I find the newspaper jammed under my shopping trolley. I jerk it out and wipe off the gathering dust.
I flip over the page as I sip my steaming cup of tea. I watch with fascination as little figures thunder across the page. I could see and hear a crowd of people screaming and chanting. It's a football match. My eyes glide to the corner of the newspaper and gasp. It's the FIFA world cup final! But that's live in a hour! Just to be sure I check the two teams. It's France versus Croatia. Just as it should be. I'm lost for words. When the game ends France wins with four goals, they win the world cup. Totally bamboozled I head upstairs. I want to see more.
I sit down in my study room and open the newspaper. At the same time I'm typing out my first draft for my novel. The bitch of an editor can go eat shit. I turn over to the next page and watch. I watch an old woman being stabbed to death twelve times. The hooded lunatic is standing behind her dead body holding his bloody knife. What the fuck?! I'm scarred but I carry on. I cringe as I watch a man get is ear bitten off by some drunkard. You can fucking hear the sickening rip as the guy fucking bites it off. That bastard. I proceed further into the newspaper. It starts off with a teenager on his bike riding down the street, nothing scary. Nothing scary my ass. Some hooded phyco leaps out and strangles the poor kid. Crap. Usually I would have put it down by now but something was sucking me in. I was somewhat engrossed. I turn over to the next page. Some dammed celebrity stealing from some poor guy on the streets, cruelty at its finest. I flip over the page. Wife throwing acid on sleeping husband?! Shit! Next. Group of teens torturing a small child?! They have them on a stake and are laughing as the child' s legs begin to burn. The child's eyes are carved out, they're screaming and crying and -
I shut the newspaper and take a breather. Holy shit , that's enough for today. I look up at the computer and sigh. I had just been typing the letter " h" for the past time. I sigh and press the back button. I need to get that bitch off my fucking back.
Authors finishing notes - this story will only update any time I can so like things will be a little wonky. I'm planning to do only two parts of this short story so please stay tuned. The events that happened on the newspaper are 50% real. So if you have any problems please comment down below. And last of all I meant soccer. I'm British so you just have to deal with my way of speaking. Thank you.
