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Escape Through Code; A short story
Topic Started: 19 Nov 2009, 01:42 PM (301 Views)
cheesebug
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Heres a story I wrote out of boredom. the end was hurried a bit, but other than that, i believe its readable.
Esacape Through Code
..... .. .... .... . ........ ..... ......


Chapter 1
HENRY MICHEAL ADAMS sat in his den in Eastern Europe, sipping his mint tea as a death cold wind howled through the trees. Henry didn’t mind, he really liked the cold European weather, compared to the hot dry weather of Arizona.
Henry was in Europe for buisness and buisness only. He was a strict man, no wife, despised kids, listened strictly to classical music only and thought television was a waste of time. He could take apart the remote control and put it back together, but stopped this habit when he realized it was in one one of those annoying screechy teenage pop songs.
He was a handsome man once, but his bitter thoughs dragged on his face and painted spots on his body, and he became unattractive. He only ate frezer food, and his increasing weight caused him to be even grumpier.
What Henry did as a job was a bit like mafia; he went into casinos, got his money, killed anyone who got in his way. He didn’t find this wrong at all, but Henry really only had one viewpoint, and that was that everyone other than him was useles.
 A knock at the door caused Henry to drag himself out of his comfortable recliner and march to the front hall, leaving his gun on the rack. Nobody looking for a fight would come on such a night.
Henry opened the latch on the door and pulled the whole thing open. There stood three Ethiopian-looking men, with large gun in their hands, and ropes around their necks. They unravelled the ropes, and grabbed at Henry.
Henry, frightened, reached for his gun on the rack, but one of the men pounced on him, tying his hands together.
Henry was led from his home, and all he could think about was how rude foreign people were.

Chapter 2
HE WAS LED to a large truck, and tied in the back. A siren wailed as Henry and the truck sped away.
Henry understood he was in trouble; but what for? He had already been charged for all his murders, but he had gotten out of every single one (with a bit of bribing). Whatever these people figured out, it had to have been incorrect. Henry was, after all, “innocent”.
After almost an hour of bumpy travel, the truck arrived at a large dark building, barely lit by lights on the ground. A word was written across it-Ahoara.
Henry climbed from the truck bed, and was instanty grabbed by the arms. Ropes were tied around his feet. He asked grumpily what was going on, but the answer given was just babble to him. He felt inclined to yell “This is America, learn English!” but then he realized he was not in America anymore.
Inside the dark building, Henry could smell stale water and something rotten. He coughed, making the Ethiopians pull out their guns protectively.
Henry was thrown in a wet cell, and the men walked away. Henry screamed for them to come back for a while, then turned to inspect his cell. He couldn’t see a thing.
“Hello?” Henry called into the darkness.
He screamed again as a hand came out of the black and grabbed his shirt.

Chapter 3
A candle wick hissed and faded, and suddenly the room was illuminated. Henry could see a woman in front of him, with blonde hair and green eyes. She was pretty, but too thin in Henry’s opinion.
She held the candle closer to Henry’s face. He felt his nose get warmer.
“Who are you?” she inquired. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh! Finally, someone who speaks American.” sneered Henry. He looked around. “I should ask a woman like you the same thing.”
The woman wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or not, so she replied, “I am Sam Quial. This is prison.”
“Well, I expected that. What did you do?”
“Killed a man in Reno just to watch him die.”
“No, really.”
Sam sighed. “My husband was killed in a gunfight. I hacked into his bank account and stole his money.”
“You can hack computers?” interrogated Henry, interested.
“Yes....what did you do?”
“I’m not sure! Well, I’ve murdered, but I’ve never left a single fingerprint.....Except for the last one.......What language do these men speak?”
“Ethiopian, smart one.”
Sam left and came back, carrying a little radio. “I got this as a reward for being good.” She pressed a red button, and fluent, quick words erupted from it. “Now I’m not ure what language this is,” she said, “But it’s close enough.”
Henry listened to the pretty sounding sentences. “This is the only station?”
Sam nodded. “At least it’s not pop music.”
“Exactly!” Henry replied, a bit too loud.
Henry looked at the woman, and thought that he somehow recognised her. He shook his head and looked for the warmest corner of the room.

Chapter 4
SAMANTHA QUIAL sat in her corner, listening to the little radio, blaring a foreign language. Henry coldn’t tell what time it was; the room was dark as ever and his watch had been stripped from him. samantha seemed to be trying to figure something out intensly.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry, scratching at his “bed”post. His bed was practically pieces of an old mosquito screen sewed together and stretched across two poles.
“I’m trying to figure out this language so I can ask for my lawyer.” she said, turning up the volume on the tiny machine.
Henry listened intently, but ever word was a mystery to him. All he could hear was “Olleh, dena emocelew ot ninrom swen tah net.”
“Net’s a word.” said Henry.
“But who would talk about nets?” replied Sam, punching the radio as it stuttered. The words became more clear.
Henry continued to listen for a few days. He listened in the morning, and in the evening.
Henry noticed a certain word was repeated constantly, Olleh. Every time a different person spoke, they would say this word.
“Do you think ‘Olleh’ is a greeting?” quired Henry.
Sam listened to the radio for a minute, tilting her head at every new voice. She looked up at Henry.
“Henry, you’re a genious.” she said.
The next day, Sam had disappeared.

Chapter 5
Henry shouted to the guard, stretching his hand out of the moldy bars to call to him.
“Hey!” he shouted, shaking his hand angrily. “Over here!”
There ws silence, then a voice yelled back, “Shut up!”
“No!” said Henry. “I need to talk to you!”
“Shut up.” the voice repeated. The gaurd strolled over to the cell to glare at Henry.
“Where has the woman who was in here gone?” Henry requested.
“Shut up?” sounded the gaurd.
Henry pressed against the bars and hissed, “Is that the only bit of English you know?”
The guard stared blankly at Henry. “Shut.....up.....” he uttered.
Henry pressed harder and harder against the bars, until he was sure he would be split in pieces
“Look,” he snarled, “Tell me what happened to her. Bring me someone who speaks English!”
“Shut up!” the guard turned and walked away.
“You can’t do this!” screamed Henry as the guard disappeared behind the corner. “This is inhumanity! This is disgusting! This is MADNESS!”
The guard didn’t return.
That night, as Henry lie on the ground, he heard whispering in the corner. He stood up, and felt his way around the wall. His finger touched something waxy and soft.
Something screamed and recoiled from his touch. Henry did the same, and ran to the little stash of candles Sam had left behind. He lit one and swished it upwards, accidentally blowing it out, but it was lit long enough so that Henry could see two skinny figures in the corner.
The people in the corner frantically whispered together.
“Well well well,” Henry could make out, “Look who’s sharing our new cell.”
“He’s kinda fat, do you agree?” said another voice.
There were snickers.
“He’s going to figure out our escape plans.” said one of the figures, quietly.
‘We could eat ‘im.” reasoned the other.
“How are we suposed to kill the butterball? With our teeth?”
Henry heard someone stand up, then be slapped down.
“Ow!”
“Don’t waste the fork on him, idiot.” hissed a voice, then it added, “We’re saving that for our trip outa here, remember?”
“Ah, yes. To trade for drugs and water.” agreed the other voice.
Henry scooted farther into the corner as he listened to the voices bicker for a moment.
The two people scooted next to Henry, who listened cautiously as they lit the candle again and held it up, slower.
There were two adolcent boys in front of Henry. One with scraggly red hair and a long face, and one with straight brown hair and a very round face. He was the one holding the candle up.
“Okay.” growled the red haired boy. “I’m Red, this is Marz. If you listen to what we say, we’ll let you see our escape plans.”
Henry stared at the obnoxious teens and snickered, “Marz?”
“Shuddup.” hissed Marz. The gaurd came to Henry’s mind, but Marz was speaking to Red, who was chuckling quietly.
“And,” added Marz, “You gotta give us 30% of all meals.” Marz looked Henry over. “Not like you’re needin’ 70%, but hey, we’re nice guys.”
Henry laughed politely. “No, thanks.” he said. “I’m fine. I don’t need to be in any more trouble for right now.”
“Are you sayin’ our plan will get us busted?” Red interrupted, pulling something silver and shiny from his pocket.
Marz glared at Red, who looked saw him and put the thing back in his pocket.

Chapter 6
Henry listened to the delinquent boys bicker as he snuck to their coats on the ground. They were arguing over whose turn it was to keep watch for the gaurd so they could gho along with their “secret plan”.
Henry pulled a sharp, silver fork from Red’s coat pocket and scurried back to the wall, turning his little radio up.
“Olleh, dena emocelew ot ninrom swen tah net.”
Henry carved “Olleh” into the wall, making sure he spelled it correctly. No going back to fix it.
Henry stared at the wod, pronouncing it in different ways.
“Ow-leh.”
“Oh-lay.”
“Ah-lee.”
The boys stopped quarelling, and Marz took his station by the bars. Red didn’t pick up his jacket, he merely sat and pulled a piece of paper from the elastic in his pants and examined it.
Henry turned bac to the wall, spending hours simply rearranging the letters.
“Leloh.” said Henry, just rambling. Then he froze.
Henry brought the fork up to the wall, and scratched someting in the cement.
“H...e.....l...l....o......”

Chapter 8
Henry woke up one morning, wet. It had rained all night long. He turned to the cold wall, staring at his scribbles. Then he realized it was extremely quiet.
He flipped over and noticed the boys were gone. Henry sat up and examined their hole. It wasn’t even a foot into the ground yet. What had happened?
Henry found a paper on the floor, along with the fork. There was a pen in the corner. The paper merely showed a square labelled “JAIL” with a little tunnel underneath, and two stick figures labelled “Red” and “Marz”.
Henry used the pen to scrible on the back of the paper. He wrote, “I need to see a lawyer.”
In a few minutes, Henry was able to say the sentence backwards.
“I dean ot ease a raywal.”
Henry stood at the bars and shouted, “Olleh!”
A guard came, and said, “Tahw od oy tnaw?”
Henry mumbled under his breath, rearranging the letters and sounds. “What do you want....” Hnry repeated. He looked at the gaurd, unafraid.
“I dean ot ease a raywal.”
The guard grunted, and handed Henry a cell phone.
Henry stared at it in awe. How could I be so stupid as to not figure this out in the first place? He wondered.
Henry dialed his lawyer’s number, and listened to the rings. A voice on the other end groggily said, “Hello?”
“John? This is Henry!”
“Oh, erm....Henry? Henry Adams? Where are you?”
 “In prison!” Henry replied. “I need your help. I don’t know what I’m here for. I think it had to do with my last murder, but-”
“I know what happened. Let me talk to the guard.”
Henry handed the phone to the guard. The guard nodded, and handed the phone back to him.
“You can speak his language?” Henry asked.
“What language? He speaks perfect English.” requested John.
Henry was led into a hallway, speaking to John still. “Okay. I’ve already set up for the person to meet you. Just wait a bit.”
“Wait-”
The line was empty.
Henry turned off the phone. He guessed he was talking to a relation o the man he killed. That’s the only thing he could be in trouble for-
Some people walked in the door, including a blonde woman in front. Her green eyes glared at Henry from behind sunglasses. She took them off and smiled.
“Henry.”
http://masochistic-goddess.tumblr.com/poetry
"You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms."
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Luemas
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DELICIOUS!
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It's over.
They spoke backwards, or maybe Henry was just bonkers.
And Samantha was the wife of someone Henry killed.
DUH DUH DUH!!
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I think I'm Crazzzy. I think your crazy. I think your crazzzy... probably.
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