Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25226524-20140908005526

This is just the first chapter of something I've been working on. I just wanted to post it to see if it was something that made you want to continue reading. I want to warn you that there is a certain amount of violence in it, but nothing too over the top. I request that you don't read it in the mindset of looking for errors, not that I can't handle the criticism, but because I mostly just want to know if it's something you'd like to continue reading. Thanks.

Endless War

Chapter 1

Richard locked up the brakes as he slid into the diner's parking lot. He hoped to God that this was just some kid trying to scare his boss or something. Deputy Johnson must have noticed him pulling in because he was at the sheriff's door by the time he stepped out.

"It aint pretty sir," the deputy said with a seriousness that made Sheriff Brown's heart sink.

"What's the situation?"

Johnson took a deep breath, "Well sir, it's a massacre is what it is. So far we got twelve dead, and four more on their way to the hospital right now."

Brown shook his head in disbelief. The last time there was a murder in this county was three years ago when one of the town drunks, old Bill Hemsley, shoved his wife down the stairs and broke her neck. That was more of a stupid drunk accident than anything else, but this... he'd never really had to deal with anything like this in his ten years as sheriff.

"Any sign of the shooter?" He secretly hoped the shooter was among the dead so this would be the end of it.

"No sir, there was no one here who hadn't been shot when we arrived. The four that are still alive weren't in any shape to give a statement sir."

Brown started towards the entrance, "What kind of weapon was used?"

Johnson stopped just before they got to the door, "Well sir, it appears it was a twelve gauge shotgun, it's a real mess in there sir."

Sheriff Brown halted, "You mean to tell me that some nut job came in here with a bird gun and managed to shoot sixteen people? The average twelve gauge only holds five rounds!"

The deputy replied quickly as if he'd been expecting this reaction, "That was exactly my first thought sir, there's no way someone wouldn't have rushed him while he was reloading. Officer Wilson suggested he must have had some sort of military or swat issued shotgun with a high capacity magazine, and I have to agree with him sir."

Brown contemplated this as he walked through the door. The smell of blood singed his nostrils immediately, he took a second to steel himself for the carnage.

"Good God, this looks more like a bomb went off then a shooting!" The sheriff felt his stomach churning as the image sunk into his core. The seating area looked like someone had went through it dumping buckets of blood all over the floor and tables. There were crimson bodies laying all over the place, some of them were still in there booths, slumped over the tables. He noticed that several of the bodies appeared to be children as a flashing image of his daughter raced in and out of his thoughts.

"What kind of a sick bastard would do something like this, someone must have came completely unhinged to enlist such abhorrent behavior," he thought. He counted eight bodies in total out front, none of them looked like they would be easily identifiable.

"How many in the back?" the sheriff asked not knowing where the four survivors were from.

"There's four in the back sir, two of the employees and two customers were the only ones still breathing when we got here. But I gotta' tell ya' sir, they didn't look like they had much of a chance at making it through the ride to the hospital, let alone the night."

Sheriff Brown started towards the back, trying unsuccessfully to step around the puddles of blood, the floor was basically painted with it. As he rounded the corner he saw two bodies on the tiled floor, they both appeared to be teenage girls. Again his daughter's image broke into his thoughts, one of the girls had hair the same color and style as Violette's, but this girl's was half drenched with her own blood. He walked back past the warming racks and noticed a pair of legs sticking out past the prep table. At the end of the table was what looked to be another teenager, a male. The back of his head was completely missing, and the sheriff could see most of it was still stuck to the wall a few feet away.

"Where's the fourth employee?" the sheriff asked as he could clearly see the rest of the cooking area was free of any bodies.

"Back in the office sir, the last victim appears to be the manager. Apparently he'd locked himself in the office when the shooting started because the lock's been blown off."

Sheriff Brown saw the office door with a large shotgun-peppered hole where the handle used to be. He walked back and pushed the door open. There was a large brown metal desk with a chair behind it pushed a little to the side. The white cinder-block wall behind the desk looked like something that would've fit in on the set of an old horror movie. He could see the fragments of brain matter speckled in amongst the almost purple blood. His stomach churned again. He'd hoped he'd never have to see anything like this in his county, not on his watch.

The sight of all the bodies and blood made him wonder if he'd been hasty in choosing this line of work. He took a deep breath through his mouth to avoid the mineral smell that filled the room.

"I assume the rest of the boys are out patrolling the surrounding area looking for anyone suspicious, right?" The sheriff glared at the deputy. He knew he didn't really need to ask, but he wasn't sure if the boys were thinking with a clear mind after seeing something of this magnitude.

"Yes sir, I sent officers Billings and Hunt out immediately, and then sent Wilson out as well after we'd sent off the few survivors.  Trooper Woods was here too, and he started patrolling as well after the scene was secure.  He said the state was sending us three more units as soon as they could, to help with the manhunt. I told him the more the merrier sir."

Brown hated that the state had to be involved, but he knew with something of this caliber there was no alternative. "Well you did good Johnson, sounds like you kept your head on straight through all this mess. I'm sure you already checked for any sign of a security system?  I noticed I haven't seen any cameras anywhere."

"Yes sir, a lot of these places don't bother with security cameras I guess. I called the hospital and told them that if by chance any of the survivors gained consciousness, to call me immediately."

The sheriff knew Johnson was a good cop, but he was really proving himself in the light of all this madness. "Well good work again Johnson, go get the cameras so we can start taking snapshots for evidence. We need to pay special attention to any bloody footprints, and check for any matches to the victims.  I'll call the hospital and tell them to keep the patients' shoes in a safe place till we can pick them up tomorrow."

The deputy looked like he was fighting a smile, "Already done sir, I told the ER receptionist about the shoes when I called about alerting us on the victims conditions."

Brown fought a smile himself, "Looks like I didn't even need to come in for this one," he thought.

"You're not gunning for my job are you Johnson?" the sheriff said, trying to lighten the mood.

"No sir, you just taught me well is all." The deputy tiptoed around the blood to the door and jogged across the lot to his cruiser.

"Johnson's really got it together," Brown thought, "he may not be gunning for it, but he'll definitely be a good candidate for the job when I retire."

Even though his house was an easy fifteen miles away, he still felt the need to call Valerie and tell her to keep a lookout and make sure she had a gun handy just in case.

"Rich, is everything alright?" Valerie asked with obvious urgency.

"Well, no not really, but if you're asking about me, then yes. Well, physically I'm ok I should say, mentally, well... it's a mess Val." Richard knew he didn't want to get into the details with her, but he also knew she'd read all about it in the morning paper anyway. "It's a complete disaster hun, it's like one of those school shootings you hear about on the national news, but to actually see it in person... I can't say I'm not a little shaken up."

Valerie paused, knowing he wouldn't want to go into details, but she had to know how bad it was. "How many Rich?" was all she could think to say.

"Right now there's twelve dead, and another four critically wounded, they're being treated at General as we speak. Johnson said he didn't think they had much of a chance though.  It's the worst thing I've ever seen hun."

Valerie could hear the somber tone in his voice, "This must be really bad," she thought. Richard was as tough as they came as far as she knew, but she also knew that nothing like this really happened in their little county, so who knew how he'd react.

"I'm sorry Rich, did you at least get the guy? Or did he just off himself like most of these creeps do?" She knew it wasn't right, but she secretly hoped this had been the case.

"Neither babe, that's why I'm calling. I know you two are a long ways away, but just to stay on the safe side, I want you to keep Violette with you at all times.  Also get the 9mm out of the safe and load it to the brim." Richard hated asking this of her, he knew he was probably just going to scare her, but he knew their safety was more important.

"We're not sure if he left on foot or on wheels, but either way I'd feel a whole lot better knowing that you were armed and ready just in case."

Valerie was shaking as he was softly giving his instructions. She knew she needed to stay calm for Violette and for Richard, but it was all she could do not to just break down in tears of fear.

"OooK hun, I'll go get Violette right now and then get the gun out of the safe. Do you have any witnesses?  Anyone have any idea what this guy looks like?" She knew the answer was probably no, but she was trying to ask obvious questions to hide her nervousness.

"Not that we're aware of, you know where this place is, it kinda sets alone below the main drag, so I doubt anyone saw anything. The only building with even a slight view of this place is the bank, and it was closed when all this went down.  Only thing I can hope for is maybe someone driving by saw something and will call the office soon."

Valerie wanted badly to just tell him to come home, but she knew he had a job to do and that would be selfish.

"Ok Rich, well please please be careful and let me know if you get any new details. I'll keep the doors locked and keep Violette in our room with me till you get home." It was all she could do to keep her voice from quivering. All day she had a strange feeling that something bad was going to happen and now this.

"Ok babe, don't let Violette know what's going on. I'm sure she'll hear all about it soon enough.  Just tell her that you wanna' have a girls' night, maybe you can do each others' nails or something." Richard knew that his wife and daughter neither one had much interest in painting their nails, and he knew even though Valerie was trying to play it cool, she was likely a mess inside.

"Ok Rich, that sounds like a good idea. I'll make sure to get the gun out and put it in the dresser before she comes in."

Deputy Johnson was already snapping away when Sheriff Brown came out of the bathroom. He looked like he was straddling a fence as he awkwardly danced around the bodies to get as close to all the footprints as he could.

"I feel like I'm playing twister in here sheriff, this place looks like a war-zone," the deputy said as he leaned over a deep puddle of blood that appeared to be an inch thick. "So far I've got what appears to be four different footprints sir, but I can already identify them as shoes of the victims out here."

The sheriff knew it was probably a waste of time taking all these pictures, but it was all they had at the moment. His beeper went off, he unclipped it from his belt and looked at the tiny screen. It was the office number with a '911' after it. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the office.

"Sheriff Brown here, just got your page."

Alice, the sheriff's office receptionist sounded frantic as she spoke, "Yes sir, I just got a call from dispatch saying they received a call from Ronald Blankenship. Apparently he heard a round of gunshots that sounded like they were coming from his neighbor Willy Baker's house.  Said it sounded like there was a gun fight going on and wanted us to check into since he couldn't think of any reason for that many shots being popped off that fast, especially at this hour."

Brown's heart began to race as he realized he knew where Ronald lived, and it was only about a mile over the hill from where he now stood.

"Ok Alice, I'm on my way right now." Brown thrust his cellphone back in his pocket and started towards the door.

"Where you headed sir?" the deputy asked.

Brown was in such a frenzy he almost forgot the the deputy was even there. "Just got a call there were several shots fired near Ronald Blankenship's place, and you know that's just over the hill from here on foot."

Johnson just stared at the sheriff like he didn't know what to say, then he set the camera on the table and started towards the door with the sheriff.

"Well we better hit the road, these people aren't going anywhere anyway. I wanna' get a crack at this SOB if there's a chance."

The sheriff felt a grin creeping across his face, "Now calm down son, we can't go in there guns blazing. Just keep your head on straight like you have so far and everything will be just fine."

The deputy didn't reply, he just walked past the sheriff and out the door with a stoic look on his face.

"Now when we get there, like I said, keep your head on straight and do as I say. We don't need you running in there like Wyatt Earp in a blaze of glory," the sheriff coldly said as they sped down the hill towards the Baker's house. He didn't know the Bakers very well, but he knew they had three small kids. He also knew that Willy was a marine back in Desert Storm, and that Willy had quite a hefty collection of guns. He could only hope that if it was the perp that had caused the commotion, that Willy had got the best of him before he could get to any of the kids.

As they rolled into the driveway, Sheriff Brown could see there were lights on all through the house, but he couldn't detect any movement. Before they opened their doors Brown told the deputy to stay low and go around the back, and he'd take the front. Sheriff Brown slipped across the yard to the front door as Johnson made a low dash around the side of the house. Brown peeked in the window beside the front door but could see no sign of distress other than a lamp that laid on the floor beside its table. He slowly turned the knob, and the door creaked open as he slipped his pistol in ahead of him.

Normally he would've knocked and waited for an answer, but in this situation he knew he couldn't play by the rules. He eased into the living room and looked down at the busted lamp on the floor. He peered into the kitchen to his right but saw nothing. The house was dead silent. He eased down the hall past a bathroom and a couple open bedrooms that were empty as well. When he got to the end of the hall there was a closed door, he tried to twist the handle, it was locked.

Deputy Johnson peered in the windows at the back of the house but could see nothing indicating trouble. With his 40 cal. department issued Glock drawn, he tried the handle to the back door, it didn't budge. He contemplated going back around front but knew the sheriff wanted him out back, it was probably best he was back here in case the perp tried to escape through the rear. Johson prayed that that would happen. He already had all kinds of violent thoughts racing through his head of what he would do to this child killer if he got his hands on him.

Sheriff Brown crept up the stairs on the other side of the hall. He needed to check the upstairs first before he kicked the basement door in. Each step he ascended seemed to creek louder than the last. He was trying his best to keep the element of surprise on his side, but the house wasn't cooperating. As he reached the landing he saw an open bathroom door, and to the right and left were two open bedroom doors. He eased over to the right door, grateful the floor up hear wasn't as noisy as the stairs. As he reached the edge of the door, he leaned against the molding and took a deep breath before he turned into the opening. He steeled himself and spun around with his pistol leading the way.

The room was fairly dark since the sun had started to duck behind the pines on top of the hill. He felt around for a light switch and found it, then flicked it up. When his eyes adjusted to the light, his heart sank, on the floor was a mangled pile of flesh that used to be Willy Baker. Willy looked like he'd been dropped in the middle of a shootout in the war on terror. The whole top half of Willy's head was missing, and his body had multiple craters in it that looked like they were filled with grade A ground beef. His stomach churned again, just as it had back at the other crime scene. He noticed that Willy had an old AK47 laying beside him, then he looked around the room and noticed there were bullet holes in the door and wall behind him, along with blood.

Deputy Johnson was getting impatient waiting for some action in the back. He still hadn't heard so much as a scurry inside, but he knew that something was up since the sheriff hadn't came out to get him yet. He sat as calmly as he could, day dreaming of biting the nose off whatever sicko had caused all this mayhem. He knew he shouldn't be thinking such vicious thoughts, but he couldn't help it. No whack job is gonna' come in and shoot up a place like that in his county, especially not kids, and get away with it. No, he knew that if the perp came out the back door, the sheriff would have to kill him before he'd let the bastard loose.

"Johnson, come around front with me, Willy's dead and there's no sign of any of the girls or the perp, but the basement door's locked. We need to kick it in and rush the basement, and I need you to have my back,"  the sheriff whispered as they jogged around the side of the house.

"Willy's dead? Did it look like he might have got a piece of him before he went down?" the deputy asked with hope in his voice.

"I think so, there were bullet holes in the door and wall opposite of Willy's body, not shotgun holes, and there was blood splattered on the door," Brown replied with the same hint of hope in his voice. They walked softly to the end of the hall where the locked basement door stood silent.

"You kick the door in, I'll rush the stairs, and you be right behind. Don't shoot me in the back, ok kid?"

Johnson didn't like being called kid, but he knew the sheriff didn't mean anything by it, and in this situation nothing like that much mattered.

"Ok sir, on the count of three I'm gonna' bust this door to splinters."

If it was anyone else on his force he might have laughed, but Johnson was a hulk of a man, and he had no doubt he'd level the door with one blow, plus he knew Johnson was boiling over with rage.

Johnson counted to three and blasted the door with a massive kick that would've cracked the sternum of any man on the receiving end of it. The sheriff rushed down the stairs two at a time and turned the corner in a flash. The room was empty, he quickly studied the room for any sign of foul play or a trail of blood. Spots of blood were sprinkled all the way across the room to the other end where another door stood closed. His heart raced furiously as he strolled across the room. Not waiting for Johnson, he hefted up his boot and stomped the door right by the handle. Splinters flew as the door swung open, he could hear whimpering now and rushed the room.

"Freeze!! Don't move a freakin' muscle or I'll paint the walls with your brain!" Brown couldn't believe he'd said that, but in the heat of the moment he couldn't really blame himself. The man standing before him didn't move, he just smiled from ear to ear.

"You're just in time for the show sheriff. I wasn't expecting an audience, but I suppose it couldn't hurt."

The man just stood there smiling, a large hunting knife in his hand. The man looked like he'd been to hell and back, blood was dripping off his left hand as it hung limply by his side. His face was splattered with blood, and his clothes were nearly soaked with it. Some of his long dark hair hung down in front of his face, and it too appeared to be dripping with death. In front of him on the floor, laid Willy's wife, Vicky Baker. She was bound and gagged, and stared up at the sheriff with a pleading look that almost made Brown's eyes water. Behind the man, on the floor and leaned against the wall, were the three children, two girls and one boy. Violette's image flashed again. Brown felt rage surging through him that made him feel like his skin was going to melt.

"Sheriff, you must understand, I can't let you spoil the party. I work for a much higher authority than you, and he wouldn't be too pleased with me if I let some small town sheriff take me out before my work was done." The man seemed completely calm, almost genuine with his words. "If you could see the things I've seen, and know the things that I know sheriff, you'd put your gun down and help me. It's not too late, I'm sure the master would be more than happy to let you join in on the fun."

The sheriff felt a literal snarl building on his lips.

"Let me just waste this piece of thrash sheriff, he's obviously lost his marbles," Johnson piped in, completely ready to pull the trigger if the sheriff gave even the slightest nod.

"Drop the knife and put your hands on your head," Brown said with as much authority as he could muster. The man just shook his head, maintaining his maniacal grin.

"Sorry sheriff, but that's just not possible. You see, master wants these people for his collection, if I don't bring them to him, well, he might take me in there place, and I just can't allow that.  I have a position of much more importance waiting for me when I'm done here, and no one, not even you sheriff, is going to stop me."

Sheriff Brown was waiting for the slightest flinch of the man's hand so he could splatter his brains all over the wall, but he hated to do it with the kids right behind the man.

The man raised the knife as if to thrust it down into Vicky when a deafening crack blasted out right beside his head. The perp's head exploded, throwing blood and matter all over the wall behind him, and all over the children. The kids were screaming through their gags, as was their mother. He knelt down and pulled the gag off of Vicky's mouth and began to untie her as Johnson rushed over to the kids to do the same. 