Mike's Story Start

The headlights were coming straight towards me and I couldn't move. Why the interstate, why now? And I'm pretty sure that this guy is speeding like nobody's business. Closer and closer. I shut my eyes tightly and whimpered a bit, but I could still tell the lights were coming through my lids. I didn't want to die.
Woooosh!
All went silent, dark.
I opened one eye, the darkness was everywhere. I was in one piece, one single piece! My breath came out sputtered and exhausted. Tires squealed behind me and I looked back, two motorcycles could be seen on either side of the lane. Suddenly I was so lucky all I could do was smile and laugh. Motorcycles, how perfect!
"Holy shit, what was that," a man's gruff voice asked.
"I thought it looked like a . . . I dunno."
"Help me," I yelped.
"Jesus, it was a person!"
They came running back to me, "What in the hell?"
"Kid, what's going here?"
"I-I I don't know. Please help me," I begged.
"Yeah sure, Louie, got your knife on you?"
"Duh," the younger one mutter and went to cutting the rope wrapped all around me.
The other man, one with a burly beard and a bandana wrapped around his head, kneeled next to me and looked me up and down. "How did you end up here?"
"Um, I couldn't honestly tell you. I don't remember much," I responded oddly. It was the truth, everything seemed fuzzy and I was so dizzy . . .
"Woah now," he said catching me before I fell over. "Got your self a nasty little bump on your head and some serious bleeding."
"That explains a lot," I whispered. The man from behind finally got through the rope and helped me out of them.
"Somebody really didn't want you to out of this stuff," he said moving on to my wrists. "All around you and on your ankles and wrists. You sure you don't remember all this?" He looked at me with a slightly teasing grin.
I forwned. "No."
The older one smacked his friend. "Don't be rude. Or stupid."
"M-yeah, yeah," said sawing atmy bonds.
"My name's Sting," he said, "and the idiot's name is Blade, for obvious reasons."
"For a guy named Blade he evidently doesn't know how to use one."
He gave me a blank look. "You see how thick these are, all I got is this puny pocket knife because SOMEBODY thought I should put the rest of 'em away so I don't do anything overly stupid in my next fight. Not such a good move now, huh Sting?"
"You'll thank me someday," he repiled simply.
I sighed as my arms went free, though my wrists were red and scraped with rope burns. My ankles slipped free next and I realized that I had been taken movement for grated for years.
"So what's your name," Blade asked flipping his knife away.
"It's May," I siad trying to get up and failing. My head was in massive pain while the rest of me felt woozy.
"Easy there." Sting held my arm.
"Is there somewhere we could take you? Home?"
I frowned at the ground. Nothing came to mind. Did I have a home? Family, I had to have a family. Didn't I? No one came to mind.
"May? Hello?" Sting looked at me worried.
"I-I-" Suddenly I felt shy and scared. Was I alone in the world? Why was there no one I could remember? No place I wanted to be, other than off this road.
"Have no where to go," Blade asked softer now.
"Well, I can't think of anything.
Sting snorted. "Sounds familiar," he said glancing at Blade. "Come on, you can hitch a ride with us. There's not a police station for a while though."
"Thank you," I said softly. They walked me to their cycles as my nerves escalated.
"Ever ridden on one of these before," Sting asked.
"Don't think so."
"Just hold on then," Blade said starting his and watching me awkwardly put my arms around the stranger I was sharing a two wheeled vehicle with. We sped off towards nothing but more black, it was beginning to feel like I was going to forever be in the dark. Who was I?

"As the building exploded" story start

As the building exploded I realized I forgot my wallet. "Damned it all," I hissed rubbing my ringing ears. Just another day in paradise: explosions, death, knife wounds, bullet grazing and all before lunch time. "I don't get paid enough for this crap," I muttered while whipping out a cigarette and lighting on a nearby scrap of debris. The walk back to my car would be a long one, but also a chance to relax before setting out to redeem my reward. Half a million dollars to kill a buch of wanna be gansters in the middle of nowhere. Not a bad price. Of course the men were probably not the men I was told they were, but that wasn't my business. All I had to do was obey a few orders and get paid, this job was meant for me. Sure I missed my daughter's birth and a few milestones -- but hey -- least she will never have to take out a student loan. My wife got a little stressed or frustrated at my constant absence, but for the most part she was content with her life. She should be, anything she wanted, she recieved.
"Nice boom on that one," came a voice from the trees on my left. Gunther. (A very cliche assasin fake name, I know.)
"I do that," I replied with a shrug.
"What's wrong with you today? You're usualy so smiley after an explosion."
"Meh, just kinda bored."
He stopped. "Bored?"
"Killing people for money can only be done in ways these days. Clients either wants no one to know, or something big to everyone knows. Explosions and sniping have become redundent."
"Not in a million year did I think I would hear that out of you."
My shoulders slumped a bit in resopnse. I don't care who you are, if you've killed as many people as Gunther and I have, you're bound to go a bit insane. Literally. Gunther handles it by enjoying the hell out of every kill and therefore has no chance of anything close to a normal life. Me on the other hand, I have become quiet and numb, according to my wife and shrink. But I don't really care what they think. I don't care about anything anymore.
"Oh well, guess some people just lose sight of the glory of this," the bulky man said firing a rifle into the trees.
"What the hell Gunther, you trying to get firied," I growled.
His laugh came out harsh and bellowing. "Never!" He fired again and again into the air.
Screw it, let him have his fun. Fun. I couldn't remember what that felt like anymore. As my partner drank whiskey from a flask and sang terrible pub songs I drifted further and further from him towards my vehicle. I just wanted to go home and sit in a quiet, dark room. Away from everyone. Not that it was likely to happen. My wife would try to smother me with love as if making up for the time I was gone then try to have me play with our girl. Only late at night could I have my solitude.
The car was there, shiney and sleek and ready for speed. Bofre me lay the highway, but I could see an old road that would lead me the long way back to town. That would work. going 90 down the dirt roads couldn't even put the adrenaline in my heart these days. One-ten wouldn't either. I couldn't sleep on the plane. My mind wasn't intersted in the babble my wife was saying as she picked me up from the airport. The house we had bought didn't feel like a home. The fireplace couldn't warm me nor could the shower wash the feeling of grime off my being. Then there was my little girl. Little Sonya. I sat in an armchair as she wobbled next to coffee table, standing mostly on her own. She looked at me and I looked straight through her. Her legs began to move shakily and her arm streched out to each side coming towards me. My gaze followed her, but it was like looking at a glass of water. I felt nothing. Her body hit my legs and she looked up and smiled at me. My blank face met her's. Those were her first steps, I was nearly posative. My wife have told me about such a thing by now if it had happened.
"Oh," the woman cooed right at the moment that tought had ran through my mind. "Our baby's first steps!" She scooped the girlup and snuggled her tight, but Sonya kept her eyes on me. Her little smile puffing up her cheeks. I was still blank faced.
Her first steps.
I was right.
But I wished I hadn't been.
Her first steps.
And I felet nothing.
Hollow.
More than anything I wanted to feel proud for my girl and grin and hold her close and praise her.
But no emotion came, not even the energy to get up and hold her.
Suddenly she began to bawl and turned from me.
I still felt nothing.
That was the first time I realized I was a monster.