74453

Raven Salvers

United States

Message from Writer

I am 17 and am an amateur writer for fun. One problem I have though is when I create something I like, I try to turn it into a book... now... several unfinished books later, I am still going!! :) I hope you like what you see and if you do don't forget to click the all important star in the corner so I know!!!

The Crimson Revenge

April 6, 2016


    My name is Jenny Wilde, and I am a part of The Crimson Revenge. The Crimson Revenge, or CR for short, is a secret society that was established fifty years ago to protect the people of England from those who wish to harm the innocent. I joined when I was ten, and now, eight years later, I am one of the best there is. My hair is auburn and long, tied back in a braid falling down my back. My eyes are a light brown, like the color of new wood and my skin has been tanned from hours in the sun. All together I look like an average eighteen-year-old, which gives me an advantage.

The air is cold and sharp in the December air, the night sky is cloudy and dark, and the cobbled streets of Whitechapel, England are quiet. Small snow piles decorate the sides of the icy streets that were cleared earlier in the day. I am walking silently as humanly possible, my heart beating like a drum inside my chest. I breathe deep calming breaths, hoping that my fear will not jeopardize the reason I am here in this dismal place.
 
My reason for being out tonight is no laughing matter. I am out to eliminate one of the evilest men this world has seen in a long time. My partner, Sam is one street over, acting as backup. As I turn the corner, I catch a glimpse of Sam. He is hiding in the opening of a dark alleyway with his back against the wall closest to me. In the dim light, I see the silver revolver he is holding, and feel the reassuring weight of my own, tucked away inside the long coat I wear. Sam sees me and nods quickly. I return the nod and slowly begin creeping forward again.
 
A breeze blows across my face, cold and crisp. My cheeks are already pink from the cold, and my hands felt like ice, but I kept going. The still silence battered at my fear, threatening to cause it to overcome me when suddenly there was the sound of a footfall behind me. I whipped around to see a tall, thin man wearing a trench coat and a black hat smiling at me. Other than the glint of his dark eyes, I could see nothing about him due to the dark.
 
I was tempted to glance at Sam but knew if I did I would give him away, getting us both killed. The man took another step forward and said in a low voice filled with cruel humor, “A bit late to be out and about miss Don’t you know that these are dark times?” My heart was pounding so loudly I was surprised that the man could not hear it. The fear I felt earlier was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. All my being was screaming at me to run away, and nothing but my training kept me in place. The man took another step closer, now no more than fifteen feet away from me, but before he could come any closer I whipped out my gun and pointed it at the man’s head with a steady hand. The stranger froze, his crazed grin now gone. “Hello Jack,” I said with a measured calm tone, “I don’t believe we have met. My name Jenny Wilde, and this is my partner, Sam Tollewood.” At the mention of his name, Sam stepped out of the alleyway’s shadow and into the light of the street lamps. He was tall for his age, with brown hair that curled into his eyes, calculating dark brown eyes that always shone with excitement at the prospect of a new case, and the fair skin of his Irish ancestry.
 
The man's eyes darted in between the two of us. Sam smiled coldly at the older man saying, “Is Jack even your real name? Or have you just taken a liking to the nicknames of the press?” The man did not wait to answer and darted down the street. Sam and I bolted after him, refusing to loose our quarry. 
 
Sam and I chased the man for several blocks before we came to the bank of the River Thames. The man looked around frantically for a method of escape, but there was none to be found, he was cornered. Sam and I skidded to a halt and pointed our revolvers pointed at the man. “It’s over,” I said, “You’re cornered.” “Give up,” Sam added. The man looked shocked for a moment, but then his surprise seemed to slip away. A smile began to grow on his lips, as my spirits started to fall. Why would a cornered man, who is looking death in the eye, be smiling? It unsettled me. Next to me I heard Sam cock his gun. The man said, with his smile growing wider by the second, “Children, you should never count your kills until they are confirmed.” Then, without warning, he hurled something at Sam and me.
 
As the object flew out of the man’s hands my heart stopped. We had forgotten about the knife. I watched as if in slow motion as the blade flew towards us, spinning in a deadly circle. I immodestly dropped to the ground and I saw out of the corner of my eye as Sam did the same. The man tried to bolt again, but I stood up again. We all heard the distant clatter of the knife as it hit the ground with a clang. My gun was now pointed at the man, as well as my gaze, which was hard and cold. Without a second thought, I pulled the trigger and watched as the man fell below the surface of the river, never to resurface again. “RIP The Ripper," The irony of my words were not lost on Sam, and I heard him laugh quietly as we left the river, and an evil man to his fate. 

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2 Comments
  • Raven Salvers

    oh oops... I have a habit of writing things in past tense... but thanks!!! And The Crimson Revenge was something I created out of my head about three days ago and I thought it would be cool :)


    about 2 years ago
  • Hannah M. Awbrey

    I really like your story! I'm curious to know, was the Crimson Revenge a real historical organization or something you added from your own imagination? Either way, I think this is a good story with a very captivating tone. I admire your ability to keep it short; I've never done well with a short story prompt because I tend to be wordy and provide too much information. One thing I noticed, however, was that in paragraph 4, you switched from present tense to past tense. You began the story as if it is happening right now ("My name IS Jenny Wilde, and I AM part of the Crimson Revenge"), then switched as if you were telling something that already happened (" I HEARD him laugh quietly as we LEFT the river"). Other than that, however, I think this is a solid and entertaining piece of historical fiction. Keep it up!


    about 2 years ago