Thing (Havent named it yet)
This a book i am writing, but i am not very confident that it is good please tell me what you think, if u can im not sure if u can or not, im a bit new at this, any way here it is.

Chapter 1

The sirens seemed to be breaking my ears, I thought as I ran down the dark deserted street. Being chased by cops was not on my to-do list, but can’t change that now. I saw my chance to escape a narrow alley on my left side, to close for them to turn; I ran a bit faster and turned sharply into the alley. And found my path blocked by a chain-link fence.

 I cursed quietly.

 I heard tyres screech on the pavement, bringing up the stinging smell of burnt rubber. Doors slammed, running feet on the road, I did the only thing I could think of.

I ripped of a piece of my jacket and stuck it to the fence then I smudged dirt to my face. Grabbing an empty bottle off the ground I collapsed on the wall and pretended to be in a drunken sleep.

The sound of running feet came closer, they rounded on the corner. I heard irritated yells, and one of them kicked the chain-link fence. Then there was a rip of fabric and I knew they found the bit off my shirt. They started arguing whether they should go after me, but soon they decided I got too long of a head start and that it would be impossible to find me.

Then one of them spotted me, he tip toed quietly up to the slumped figure on the wall. He kicked me hard, I groaned in pain. Slurring my words, tried to copy of what a drunk would sound like. I waved him away with a limp hand, but he kicked me again yelling for me to get up.

I cursed at him. He yelled at me again and the other one pulled me up by my arm pits.

The one, who kicked me, tsked, “Nice try Ethan, but you’ve got to do better than that.”

My lips moved to a crooked smile, “I can’t help it; you guys are just so gullible.”

The man smiled briefly, then his partner hit me over the head and everything went black.

A bright light cut through the fog. Groaning, I sat up, only to find that I was cuffed to a metal bed. I leaned to the left to look under the bed to see if the cuffs were secure. They were. I sighed. I knew when I went in this program that someday I would get caught. But these guys, they take the cake. They knew from the start, which was surprising seeing that I’ve had five years of training.

He’s not going to like this, I thought, He’s definitely not going to like this.

I studied the room and saw that it was a cell, with a moulding sink and a hole in the corner, to use as a toilet. I also saw that the light that woke me was coming from a small bared window close to the roof of the cell.

“I’m in jail,” I muttered, “well this is just dandy.”

Then I frowned, I had been undercover for months at the police station and the cells there had a proper toilet. And we had janitors that cleaned the cells regularly. I finally make my mind up, this wasn’t the police station, this was an abandoned police station, or jail.

“But why take me here?” I murmured

“Well that’s a fine question that is.” said a voice behind me.

I tried to twist around to see who spoke but the cuffs wouldn’t let me.

The voice chuckled, “You can try all you want but you can’t break free, we took your little trinkets of ya too.”

The voice sounded outback Australian, and was female. I rattled the cuffs and tried to put on my most polite and charming voice, “Would you mind, loosening these handcuffs, so I could see your pretty face.”

The voice laughed again, “Well, well, I had heard that you were charming, but I did expect more from you.” The voice no longer sounded outback Australian, but instead was English, but you could still here some Australian when she finished talking.

I smiled attractively at the wall, “I could be more charming if I knew your name.”

The voice was silent for a while, so I knew she was going to give me a fake name. She finally answered, “Nomen.”

I was right. “Well Nomen, would you mind telling me where we are?”

“Headquarters.”, she said simply, “and I believe you have forgotten your manners, you didn’t tell me your name.”

I frowned, the other imposters already knew my name (the only fake name I used was my last).

“They didn’t tell you?” I asked with a trace of suspicion, this could be a trick.

“No, I’m afraid that the two men that apprehended you died a few hours later, a very tragic accident, but the boss says they deserved it for letting you out of their sight.” Her voice was cold and hard as steel, she obviously was not saddened by their death.

I shivered. This woman was evil.

After our nice conversation she left to do her “work”, I didn’t like how she said work. During our conversation she asked for my name again, I still didn’t answer. She went up as close as she could to me through the bars, which was pretty close seeing that the bed was wedged against the end wall and the bars. Her hot breath made the hair on the back of neck stand up.

“You know if you don’t answer my questions willingly, even if they are simple ones I will be forced to make you answer.” Her voice sounded like forcing me to answer her questions was like she was ordered to squash a bug, and her breath quaked with the sporadic nonchalance of a madwoman.

I shuddered again, she was an expert criminal and I knew that expert criminals were true killers, and they would murder in the blink of an eye without even flinching.

Five hours later she came back, but this time with paraphernalia in a knapsack. She shook it behind the bars and I heard a sloshing of liquid and the clinking of glass.

“Now it’s time for me to relax and have some fun,” She said with a smug sound in her voice, “I wonder do you think I should do this making you think that an evil ghost is torturing you, or a dangerous and murderous criminal that you can identify and have nightmares about because of what I’m about to do to you, do to your pigheadedness.” She waited for my answer but I was too busy thinking of the vague answers I would give if the worst comes. She contemplated to herself for a bit weighing down my mental torture. Her answer came when I heard the jingling of keys, and rust scraping on rust as the metal door opened.

This was my first very smart thought as I looked at her, Uhhh duh. She was beautiful, and I don’t mean the fake everything type who wears makeup and has heaps of plastic surgery so that she’s almost a giant replica of Barbie. No she was naturally beautiful, she had no makeup on but who needs makeup when your already perfect, eyebrows plucked to perfection, long luscious lashes on her eyes to which her irises  were a deep shade of grey, she had full lips that looked like a deep red. Her hair was the only thing that was changed, she was blond which was natural but she had thin brown streaks all through it, her style of it was super wavy from top to bottom, which went just below her shoulders. All her features like this; she had an outstanding way to know how to match her features with her clothes, she wore a simple long cotton light brown shirt, with dark blue jeans, that seem frayed on the knees.

In other words I knew who she was, and this was not good. Her real name was Salices Trewhella, but she does not use that anymore, ever since she went on the most wanted list she’d been using words in Latin as to her name, which is why she said her name was Nomen, which meant ‘name’ in Latin, but we called her Medusa.

We called her that for three reasons, one; she favoured a poison that made the victims muscles seize up before it made their heart stop.

Two; anyone who saw her real face ended up dead, a local police got lucky once and caught her, they sent some federals to take her away, when they got there they found that either everyone was dead or dying from her poison, we got her picture from the video cameras there.

Three; people kept catching guys at our office staring at her photo, some of them had tried to make it with it, and others copied it and either took it home of hid it their desk, and when they thought no one was looking they took it out and caressed it.

As I stared at her I thought that she definitely lived up to her reputation of being a master of seduction. Just one look and you’re hooked, even if she’s almost double your age.

She waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Are you going to stare at all day or should we get this over and done with?” She said with exasperation.

That snapped me out of my thoughts, although I still stared at her not believing my eyes. We had a whole squad searching every source about her to see where she is. The last thing they found was that she got a private plane to Africa and yet here she was, right in front of me. She must have buried some of her own sources into ours.

Medusa cleared her throat, “You know although I am used to being stared at, you are getting a bit creepy.” She paused considering for a second, “Although you may be a bit freaked seeing your agency has been searching for me for years.” She cocked her head, “and aren’t I supposed to be in Africa at the moment.” She smiled at the idea of tricking us, as if she were playing a fun game, maybe she was. I considered this for a moment, but then my thoughts shattered away as she reached into her bag.

She pulled out a jar full of clear liquid that looked like water but it moved like syrup. She also brought out some empty syringes. But my eyes were focused on the jar, my mind frozen with fear, I knew that liquid. We created it; we use to use it for interrogation, but decided that it was too cruel, so we stopped.

It was called Timore, it put the person a state of unconsciousness and makes them dream of their worst and deepest fears, or sometimes their worst memories that they wish they never had. And she was about to use it on me, and by the look of the jar she could give me a high dose, which means the deeper the fears go. But the guys don’t call it that, they think it’s too scientific to remember, they call it ‘the bad dream drug’.

She considered the jar for a second, and then gazed at me; I knew she could tell I feared the drug more than anything.

She smiled. “I think I’ll fill the needles to the brim, but how many should I do?” She considered for a moment. I knew she was playing me, she was trying to make me panic. So that the drug could get to me easier, the drug works better when you already are in the presence of something you fear, and she wanted me to fear her.

But I didn’t fear her, I feared the drug. I smiled to myself, you can only fear, fear itself.

Upon seeing my smile, Medusa frowned. “What an odd person you are,” She stated with a quizzical look, “smiling death in the face, even at the death of your own fear.”

My smile widened, “Do you really think I’m going to fall for your trick?” I waited for an answer but one didn’t come, she just stared at me, emotionless.

She finally spoke, “What’s your name?” She paused, “Your real name.”


“Do you have a last name?” She said with a trace of sarcasm.


She paused for a moment considering this information, her hand slowly reached for the jar full of Timore. I tried to not let my fear show; obviously she was threatening me; that if I didn’t tell her what she wanted she was going to start the torture. She lifted the jar in face view, and slowly dipped an empty syringe into it, filling it to the brim.

She moved forward, and I couldn’t help but try to move backwards, the cuffs jangled and then pulled at my wrists. My back was suddenly on the damp mossy wall, its coolness seeping into my back and rolling down my spine, I shivered. My body was at an awkward position, with my one of my legs dangling to the side and my torso diagonally on the narrow bed.

She stopped at the edge of the bed and then lifted one of her legs and moved forward, so that she was kneeling of top of me. She leaned forward so that she was just inches from my face. Her stomach move up and down on my stomach .My heart was racing not only from fear, but also from how close she was to me.

The chill was no longer in my body because of her body heat, burning on my skin. The burning intensified on my arm, my brain went fuzzy and slow and my vision went hazy. I looked at my arm in confusion, there was a needle sticking out of it.

The blurriness increased, I blinked and shook my head to try and get my eyes focused. They did the opposite, it worsened, the blond blue on top of me, moved away and was suddenly sitting next to me, leaning in front of me. I felt hot breath on my ear, “Night, night, Agent Baneworth.” The blur whispered teasingly. My eyes widened in shock for a moment, but then everything went black.

Sitting behind the couch I waited for my mother and the stranger to finish their conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could hear that it was a serious conversation. Mum’s voice got shriller, and she tried to grab onto the man’s shirt and pull him closer, as if she were afraid that he would leave.

 He must be close to mum, I thought as I watched the discussion unfold. The man said something in a more serious tone, and mum backed off. I could see her expression, from the light coming from the kitchen; she was confused and a bit scared. I tried to see the man’s face, but he was not in the light. The man whispered something affectionately and pulled something out of his pocket, the object shined in the light, making me squint. There was a sickening sound that made my heart lurch; my breath became shallow as I heard thick drops of liquid splash into the tile floor. A body crumpled to the ground, I opened my eyes fully and saw it was my mother, eyes wide staring straight at me uncomprehendingly, a pool of blood slowly surrounded her as it leaked from her stomach wound. My heart felt hollow, all I could do was stare at her eyes, my father used to say that it was her eyes that made him fall in love with her, he said that those diamond shaped eyes glistened like the object of which they were shaped.

I averted my eyes when the man moved again; he started to towards the stairs and slowly climbed trudging his feet like a heavy weight was set on his shoulders. The man went around the corner and opened the closest door, I froze all over, that man just killed my mother and he just stepped into my sister’s room.

I heard an ear-splitting scream that made me want to fall down and cry. Suddenly the scene shifted. I was on the rusty bed again but in a different room, it was white but the gloomy light it looked like grey. The only


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