"Ten months."
By Amy Stevens
Chapter 01- "Shooter…"
Mort Rainey sat at his desk watching the cursor on his laptop blink at him. Several years before this day, that same repetitive blinking would torment him. He just hoped that the writer's block wasn't going to come back.
"I've written three good books in three years,' Mort mumbled to himself, "I just hope it hasn't come back…" All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. Mort got up and answered it, "This is weird. No body comes here." 'Not since John Shooter rocked up at the door and tried to distroy my life... that didn't work, haha Mr. Shooter!' He opened the door.
"Mr. Rainey, fancy having to come here again," A southern accent drawled, "You stole my story. And it still ain't fixed."
Mort put his glasses on and looked at the man who was standing at his door, "Shooter?"
"Never thought you'd see me again? I see you've brought out several books. Not one of them mine," Shooter went on, "You said you'd fix mine. THAT NEVER HAPPENED!" Shooter's chilling voice rang through the small cabin.
"I'm sorry, I wrote the wor—," Shooter put a rifle to Mort's head.
"You say another word and I'll blow yer brains out, savvy?" Shooter said putting his finger on the trigger. Shooter pulled Mort by the shirt towards a black van with tinted black windows.
Several hours later Mort awoke to find himself tied to a chair in a wooden cabin similar to his… very similar it was uncanny.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Hope you enjoyed! More on the way as soon as I figure out to upload more from the internet cafe's computer. I have no computer again and it is harder doing this type thing at the net cafes. I hate net cafes!