Basicly just felt like typing out a novel to relieve some stress. I'm literly typing this out of the blue. Basicly just free writing. Hope you like it. Also post if you want more.
Chapter 1
Run. That's the only thought I can conjure through my headache. Why can't I remember... I look down to see myself wearing a blood soaked, brown leather jacket with a fur lining. I'm not bleeding so I conclude it's not my blood but I would have preferred my first conclusion. Did I murder someone? Maybe that's why I'm running... The thunder jerks me back into reality and rain begins to fall in a soothing, rythmatic pattern. My feet begin to work again but my head shows no improvement. Finally after jogging through the rain, my brain begins to work and I decide to to take refuge in one of the shops. I shuffle into the store, shivering from the rain, and I take a view of my surroundings. There's nobody. No customers. No employees. No shop keeper. Nobody...
Instead of panicking I try to rationilize my situation but I cannot find an explination. I sit on a metal bench with a red cushion and realize I'm fatigued. In an attempt to recover, I let my head droop and let my eyes rest. I start brown townyzing small things like my shoes. I'm wearing white tennis shoes that appear to be brown now from the mud with a logo of an S. Skinners? No that's not it. Ah yes, Sketchers. I let out a sigh from the relief of beginning to remember things, no matter how small. I take advantage of the abscence of a living being and I begin to browse the clothing the store has to offer. I abandon my blood stained coat to exchange it for a black hoodie. While I take off my jacket I realize there's something in the pocket. It's a Beretta M9. My hands begin to work like a craftsman with the knowledge of many years. I eject the clip to see three bullets remaining. How did I know how to do that? My eyes catch the blood on my jacket and I finally see the bigger question. Why is there only three bullets remaining in the gun that I carry...
