Write One Page Per Day – 271/365 – September 28, 2018

Friendship & Fireballs


The Enya on the radio had stopped, and the DJ had begun to play some obscure 80’s ‘pop’ music. I listened to the sound of the gun-fire stop inside as I turned the volume down on the radio.

The door kicked open, and Gwen came through pulling Grace by the arm as though she were a small child. Her lips were moving fast, so I rolled down the window.

“You ignorant, stupid, child of a woman,” Gwen berated, “You don’t have the foggiest idea of what you are doing, getting yourself captured, honestly!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Grace replied, “It just kind of happened.”

“Leave her alone, Gwen,” I called out the window, “How many times have you come to save my ass? I get captured all the time.”

“You stay out of this,” Gwen snapped throwing Grace forward toward the car as she stomped her way around the front, “you’re the reason she’s here anyway, this is your fault. Do you even know where we are? I bet you don’t.”

“We’re in Portland, the most boring place an assassin of fate could possibly go,” I replied, crossing my eyes, “because they sit in the car and do nothing but listen to music.”

“No, you dip-shit,” Gwen scolded as she opened her door and climbed in, “we’re in Portland, home to one of the deadliest assassins in the world.”

“What?” Grace asked I said simultaneously.

“This,” Gwen said pausing to point at the house, “is his house, Auguste Corneau.”

“Wait, so-”

“So Grace decided to follow a lead she found leading to this guy’s house, and choose to raid it while he was gone. The only upside to this is that he is not currently here, but he’s going to know who did this, and-”

“Hold on,” I said jumping out of the car, “I’ll be right back.”

I ran into the house, which was massive be-tee-dubs, my shoes squeaking loudly on the floor as I ran to the bar and grabbed a few bottles of expensive looking liquor. I popped the caps off them and proceeded to dump them on curtains, couches, books, really anything I saw that was flammable.

Once empty I set a lighter to the nearest alcohol soaked item and walked back to the car as the fire grew.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Gwen screeched from the car when she saw the smoke and me.

“One second,” I said as I bent to the body of one of the guards. I pulled a sharpie from his inside pocket and wrote on his chest ‘sorry about the house’ before getting in my seat. “There we go, that’s better.”

“We’re all gonna die,” Gwen said her eyes wide and staring blankly at the steering wheel. “You’ve killed us all…”

“Don’t be so dramatic, I said I was sorry,” I smiled as I leaned back and flames erupted out of the lower windows, “Let’s get Grace home now. Hi, Grace!”

“H-Hi, Henry,” She replied.


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