C+drafting


 * Plan **

Characters: The Duchess of London, Geoffrey Crogan, Percy (Fat man).

Location: Central London.

Begging: Geoffrey walks out of a saloon and sits on a bench. A short, fat man (Percy) asks to talk to him privately. Percy begins speaking, but falls to the ground shortly after. He dies. Geoffrey finds a note, addressed to himself, in Percy's jacket. He reads it. The Duchess of London shot Percy. Geoffrey must poison her.

Middle: Geoffrey rides his horse to the duchess's castle, the poison in his pocket. Geoffrey sneaks around the castle, avoiding the guards. Geoffrey finds the duchess in her chambers. He sneaks in and locks the door. The duchess sees him, she calls for the guards. They can't get in because the door is locked. They begin trying to break the lock from the outside.

End: Geoffrey reaches for his poison. He pours it into her moth: she is tied up. She is slowly dying, but as she is dying Geoffrey and the duchess's eyes met. They instantly fall in love. Geoffrey realises that what he is doing is wrong, what good will it do killing somebody? Geoffrey kissed her, the only antidote, but causes him to die... (plan may change throughout story)


 * Story **

"Dangnabbit, Eric! Again! I can't believe you!" boomed Dad, the faint lines creased as he attempted to rub the dark coffee stain off the silky white wedding dress.

"It was a complete accident, I swear! Please don't tell mom! She'll throw an utter fit!" cried Eric, biting the dry skin off his lower lip.

Dad let out a large sigh, like a balloon deflating, and put the dress aside, "Oh well, we better get going, your ballet class starts shortly and you don't wanna be late for your lesson. Do you?"

"Ugh, dad, I really don't wanna go! I'll be the only boy!" moaned Eric, but dad pretended not to hear him and carried on looking for the car keys, pulling out drawer by drawer.

"Well, looks like we'll have to go in my car," said dad.

Dad made his way toward the front door - dragging poor Eric behind him. Eric slammed the back door of the car shut and glared at his pink ballet bag (that was the only colour they had) filled with his new ballet uniform.

No-one talked the whole ride there. Eric was imagining mom coming home from her anger management course and finding her stained dress.

The ballet studio was exactly as Eric expected, girls in tutus staring at themselves in the many mirrors and then giggling with there best friends. The room was like a sauna, hot and smelt like sweat and bleach.

" Well, Eric, looks like the class before you will be late finishing!"

"Dad, I look ridiculous! I'm wearing a leotard, leggings and ballet shoes!"

"I don't think you look half bad! Actually you remind me of one of your great ancestors! It was the year…

It was the year 1815, mid day and the sun shone so bright down on the barren street of the microscopic town that it could have literally burnt a hole right through your skin. Young Geoffrey Crogan slowly walked out of the saloon and grasped the gun he held in his belt. The expression he made was sinister; his eyes seemed to pierce you just by the sight of them. He sat down on the hard wooden bench outside the saloon he began to lose the dirty look on his face and started to just study at the cracks and indentions on the bench from all the years of being sat on.

He thought of the months of peace and no crime, until a short plump man almost waddled toward him, like a toy penguin: "We must go somewhere more secret" said the fat man in a deep whisper. Geoffrey looked at him with a stern look and began to laugh.

Geoffrey nodded "Somewhere secret? Huh?" Geoffrey looked up and took in a deep breath, grinned and he repeated under his breath "Somewhere secret" then he spoke in a booming voice: "Alright, Sir, let’s go on a walk." He spoke loud enough so that everyone glared at him.

They began to stroll down the barren road. It was a long time since one of them said something; it wasn't until the people of the town looked like little ants that they talked. “So what do you want, Sir," Geoffrey asked. He stood like a tower compared to the fat, and short man. The man looked nervous and tired, judging by the huffing and puffing that he breathed, he almost looked like a fountain from all the sweat showering down his head. "So why did you drag me all the way out here?" Geoffrey looked at the man with much pity because he felt bad that he could walk up here so easily, but this man almost died on the way up.

The man replied out of breath "I......need.....your.....help!" The man was dying. Geoffrey was now concerned, he looked around and yelled "Doctor! Doctor!" but they were so far up that no one could hear.

"No" said the man, "No..., don't......call," The man fell to the ground, but as he fell his scarlet jacket opened ever so slightly, and then Geoffrey saw it, a gun wound in the man's side.

"Who… who did this?" Geoffrey stuttered. He searched the man's face for an answer; he looked as if he was trying to read his thoughts like reading a book (not that he could read).

"The.......Duchess.......had .......a plan" said the fat dying man, "I tried, I tried," Geoffrey had seen plenty people die, but not like this, it was different, it was like every breath the man took brought him farther and farther away from life. Was this what it was always like? Did it always hurt so much when a man died? A small tear rolled down Geoffrey’s cheek." What was-who-what Duchess?" Geoffrey whispered.

“Of London" the man cried.

He died.

Geoffrey knew what he had to do. He walked down the small hill carrying the dead man. This was the first time any of the town’s people saw young Geoffrey cry, although it was just a single tear, they knew he didn't kill the man. Why would he kill the man? He wasn't paid; everyone knew Geoffrey only killed if it was absolutely necessary (or if he was paid.) A young, not particularly pretty, girl dropped the small basket she was carrying, it looked to be filled with herbs or vegetables and ran towards Geoffrey, “Is- is he hurt" her voice was as gentle as an angel's.

"He is dead" Geoffrey muttered. He is dead the words rang like a broken bell, he is dead, he is dead, he is dead, the words continued to run. He couldn't shake the feeling away, it terrified him.

"Do you know who did this?" the girl was probably around 15 and she looked at Geoffrey with her huge eyes.

“I'm not sure, but I do know it has something to do with the Duchess of London" Geoffrey said with much more courage than he actually had, "I’m going to find out though." Geoffrey looked at the man, and a single tear gently fell from his face, like a raindrop gracefully falling to the ground. The teardrop landed on the front pocket of the man's scarlet jacket, Geoffrey reached in the pocket and found a small wrinkled paper that looked like it was ripped from a fancy notebook. He was never any good at reading, but he tried his hardest to decipher the words and it read:

For Geoffrey, It was the Duchess, the Duchess of London, she did it. From, Percy x

Percy. That must have been the man's name, Percy. Geoffrey called a couple large men over to where he was and they picked up Percy and took him away, Geoffrey watched until he could no longer see them.

Later in the day Geoffrey sat at the bar of the saloon, just him and his thoughts. Why was he so afraid? Who was going to help him? How was he supposed to get all the way to England? He was scared and he just looked at the glass in front of him. Everyone there tried to avoid eye contact with Geoffrey or even glance at him almost like if you looked at him your eyes would pop out the front of your head, but it was so hard not to look at him because fear shined through Geoffrey. He sat motionless for a while and then with much fear and pain in his heart he stood, which dismissed all the glances. Geoffrey looked around and searching for any face that stared at him, until he caught the glance of a young man that obviously had not been afraid of Geoffrey in the slightest amount and in a loud voice that made all the people in the saloon stop what they were doing and look up Geoffrey yelled "What are you looking at?!" Geoffrey stormed out of the saloon and angrily knocked a chair down on way out.

Once he got outside he paced back and forth breathing heavily. He was sure of what everyone in the saloon was talking about. He put his hand on his forehead and wondered why he had been so stupid. He yelled and that drew more attention to him and the attention made him more angry.

The man Geoffrey yelled at in the saloon walked out of the old battered building “You sure lost your temper in there" the young man looked at Geoffrey when he said this. Geoffrey pretended not to hear him, but he looked up and acted as if h was looking at the person who spoke to him. "Hey! I'm talking to you" said the man who was now trying his hardest to sound fearless. Geoffrey looked at him with a strait emotionless face that told the man to shut up. "I want to help you" the man continued to talk “My name is Jack and I’m good with a gun and I’ll do anything," now instead of the fearless young man he was he turned into a young begging boy.

"I don't know," Geoffrey replied again hiding any emotion, "I will let you," Jack began to hop up and down he was so excited, then Geoffrey continued, " Under a few conditions," Jack stopped hopping, "One, we are not friends we are just working together. Two, I am not responsible for you. And three, I will not save your life if you are in trouble." Jack looked at him and smiled. "Go home kid" Geoffrey said to his new apprentice: "get a good nights sleep, we're leaving tomorrow,"so Jack went home and slept.

The next day, before Geoffrey was awake, Jack arrived at the inn Geoffrey stayed at and Geoffrey awoke with the boy standing by the small bed he slept on. “Good morning," Jack exclaimed, Geoffrey looked at him still half asleep

"Mornin’,” Geoffrey replied, as he rolled off the bed onto the ground.

He sighed and sat up, "so where we going, boss?" Jack asked enthusiastically.

"I don't know" Geoffrey said although this wasn't true, "pour me some of that coffee."

Jack was already like a little puppy and did whatever Geoffrey said. He looked at Geoffrey, his eyes as big as pumpkins, "I'm very excited for our first mission" He talked nothing like he did at the saloon now he sounded like a boy no older then 13.

"Why do you want to work with me?" Jack's happy loving smile suddenly turned into a scared frown when Geoffrey asked this.

"Um.....I-I mean.....Um... I don't know," Jack answered slowly.

"Fine with me," Geoffrey’s booming voice stated. Jack gave out a sigh of relief; Geoffrey knew he was hiding something, but what? Well I guess it doesn't matter it isn't my business, Geoffrey thought and he looked at the boy, and Jack looked back questioningly. Geoffrey shook the thought off roughly he didn't want to interfere with his partners past life. "How'd you sleep?" Geoffrey asked with a small grin forming over his face.

"Good" Jack answered developing the same grin. They didn't really talk much while they prepared their bags Jack asked a few questions and they were simple, only questions about what he should do or how he should pack.

They didn't speak on the short horse ride to the harbour, but the second Jack felt the breeze of the sea and smelt the salt he looked at Geoffrey confused, Geoffrey only gave him a small smirk for an answer and rode faster. Jack sighed and tried to catch up but he couldn't, Geoffrey was just too good. They got to the harbour and dropped the horses off outside of a saloon. "Are you any good at poker?" Geoffrey asked with no trace of emotion on his blank face.

Jack looked completely clueless, "I guess?" Jack answered in a question.

A few minutes later Geoffrey and Jack sat down at a table with two men that were willing to bet their ship tickets to London. Jack looked nervously at his partner, but Geoffrey didn't return the glance. Jack really had no clue how to play the game, but some how he and Geoffrey managed to get the tickets.

Aboard the ship they ran, all they had were the clothes on their backs, the coins in their pockets, and the bags they carried bearing guns. "Where exactly are we going?" Jack inquired. "To kill the Duchess of London," Geoffrey said so casually that alarm didn't spring through Jack until a few moments after it was said.

"What? You can't kill the Duchess of London!" Jack said in a whisper.

"Who says I can't?" Geoffrey asked as if the words he just said were as innocent as a newborn kitten.

"The guards," Jack said without letting Geoffrey interrupt, "They will kill you before you have the chance to kill her!"

Geoffrey finally had a chance to speak, "I use a sniper. I stand far away. I shoot where no one notices." Geoffrey talked to him as if he were a small child, but there was a lot of anger in his voice. For the 8 days on the boat Jack wouldn't say a word to Geoffrey, he only did what he was told.

As they finally arrived in England Jack finally spoke, "I see we are here!"

"Yup," Geoffrey replied as normal as possible. He only knew the boy for a few days but he felt like picking the boy up in his large arms and twirling him around, but of cause he would do no such thing. When the boat docked they walked off slowly admiring the beautiful city.

"So where do we find this Duchess of London?" Jack said tiring to make a joke although it wasn't funny at all. They walked into a bakery and Geoffrey bought two rolls of bread and sat at the nearest table, he placed one on the table and began eating the other.

Jack reached for the roll on the table and when he picked it up Geoffrey smacked his hand and said "That's mine get your own."

"Sorry," was all Jack said before standing and heading back towards the bakery. He came back with one roll and quickly ate it. "So what's the plan?" Jack asked.

"We shoot her and then try to save her and then she dies and we become heroes," Geoffrey let the words come out like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That's actually a good plan" Jack replied slightly confused by his partner’s sudden stroke of wisdom.

They stayed one night at a small inn and set of the next day.

When they were about 50 feet from the Duchess’s room Geoffrey readied his sniper. And he shot. Suddenly everything seemed like it was going in slow motion. He looked to his right and saw Jack who was obviously frightened out of his mind. Geoffrey pulled his partner up from his position on the ground and they fled towards the castle. They ran towards a small door that Geoffrey had to bend over for he hear a scream and he quickly slipped through the door with Jack, but it seemed the only way of entry was to pretend to be a dancer. They both quickly pulled the tights on and put the spandex shirts on, a ballet costume.

They ran from behind the curtain and kept running until they arrived in the duchess’s room. Geoffrey ran to her and fell on his knees "Are you ok?" Geoffrey gasped. Jack stood back. What could he do? Geoffrey’s eyes met her's, "Beautiful," he whispered to her. Love at first sight, "Beautiful," he repeated. She didn't know this man, a strange man that ran into her room, but it was love. Se felt it too. They stared into each others eyes as if it was the only thing keeping her alive. He heard footsteps, but he sat and stared. He felt something cold against his neck but he ignored it. He heard Jack cry out his name. But still he sat. Boom! Geoffrey fell to the floor...