Silver Pen

United States of America

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Message to Readers

The requested sequel to Shrink, Shrank, Shrunk is finally here! Hope you all enjoy!

The Impossible Choice

November 23, 2018

FREE WRITING

4
    Sam Whittaker strolled along a sunny side street on his way home from the first day of school.  He had forgotten how invigorating it was o get out of that brick building.  He paused to gaze at an ash tree that had already turned a golden yellow in the cool fall air.
    Those ashes are always the first to go, he thought with a shake of his head. 
    Two men strode out of a gravel alley that ran parallel to the street.  Sam tried to appear unconcerned,, despite the nagging warning in what is popularly referred to as the gut.  Something just seemed off about them.
    I shoulda just put my 1911 in my backpack, he thought.  Course, why would I?  I've never needed it before.  This is a nice neighbourhood in a good city.  I'm just imagining things.
    No, you're not.  But go with them quietly.  I have a job for you.
    
"Lord, is that You?"  Sam muttered.
    Is it?
    
"Yep, that's Him alright," Sam said to himself.  Only God would say something like that.  
    The two men stopped about a foot away from him.  They both pulled 1911s from the depths of their coats and pointed them at him.
    "Don't move," the taller one said in what was obviously an attempt to disguise his voice.  "I have a round in the chamber and the safety is off.  If you do not do exactly as we say, you won't have a prayer."
    "I always have my prayers, but it's a crumb of comfort to know that I'm being kidnapped by someone who knows something about guns.  Is that a Smith and Wesson or a Sig Sauer?"
    "None of that!" the short one growled.  "Come along quietly and don't say a word.  Got it?"
    Sam nodded.
    The men escorted him to a green Dodge pickup and drove away with him blindfolded in the backseat.

    Sam gazed up at the two men who were staring down at him.  The one in front was a stout, balding man in a white lab coat and horrifically dirty white trousers.  His jowls under his tiny nose and bulging brown eyes made him resemble a bulldog.  The other was leaning his wiry rail thin frame against the wall, apparently unconcerned, but his glittering eyes studied Sam closely.  He had a dark complexion and was dressed in a black business suit, with gleaming sunglasses tucked in his breast pocket.
    "What do you want?"  Sam asked.
    The fat man rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.  "Samuel Whittaker, you have been selected for an experiment, an astounding experiment, an experiment sure to rock the scientific community.  For a long time, too long, has the scientific man ignored the possibility of exploration beyond the physical.  What do I mean by this?  Well, surely you've heard of ghosts, spirits, vampires, medicine men, and the whole gamut of fairy tales invented by the ignorant."
    The man spoke pompously, heavily emphasizing his words and constantly rubbing his hands together.  Sam was only listening to assess his opposition at this point.
    "We scientists have laughed and mocked for ages, never thinking to pursue the possibility that there might be something to cause all these wild tales, some grain of truth behind the myth.  Not I.  I, Archibald Thompson, have discovered a way to unite science and spirituality!  And to do so in such a way, as to make old men lift mountains!"
    Sam was tempted to comment that it was a good thing he could move the mountain of his girth, but he held his peace.
    "My proposal, then, is this: before I can patent my process, I must make sure that I have tested it in enough widely varying cases to prove that it works.  That is where you come in.  You can have power beyond your dreams, all without pain or heartbreak."
    "I already have more power than I could possibly need for the asking.  I am God's son.  Why go elsewhere?"
    Thompson sniffed.  "God.  A real force, perhaps, but obviously powerless, or He would have conquered this world by now."
    "He did.  He's got the keys, hasn't He?" Sam asked with a pointed glance at the man in black, who scowled.  "I'm warning you, Thompson.  You're playing with hellfire.  Your partner is not a good person."
    "No, I'm not," the man in black agreed.  He ambled over to the table Sam was sitting at and leaned on it.  "Which is why I will not hesitate to kill every member of your family if you do not renounce Christ and join this project immediately."
    Sam was stunned.  His family was the closest thing to him in the world, besides God.  His heart felt like it was going to shatter if someone said another word.
    "No."
    The man in black shrugged.  "Your funerals."  He towed a protesting Thompson out of the cell, leaving Sam's heart to shatter and the melted shards to flow from his clouded eyes.
    "Oh, God!" he sobbed.  "Oh, God, save them!  I can't!  I just can't!  Not from here!"
    

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  • November 23, 2018 - 9:04pm (Now Viewing)

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7 Comments
  • Christy Wisdom

    Hey Silver Pen! I just posted my 2nd part of my pro-life abortion essay.


    12 months ago
  • Christy Wisdom

    Hi Silver Pen! I don't know if you're interested in reading it, but I've finished the first piece of my pro-life essay.


    12 months ago
  • Quille

    Chapter 10, finally :DD


    12 months ago
  • Misty Cat

    Wow! Really enjoyed reading this. Will you be continuing it?


    12 months ago
  • Silver Pen

    WOOHOO! I like that story!


    12 months ago
  • Quille

    Agree very much with @alabaanna. This is a very touching piece :D
    BTW, up to Elfboy Chapter 9 is up :D


    12 months ago
  • alabaanna

    awww this is so sad!! I like it though!


    12 months ago