[Or] Windowpane

[Malevolti]

[Word count = 751]

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A Mernith Skyways airship could be seen from the sky above Lower Harrington border city. Some people stared up at it with curiosity as it floated there. The zeppelins were not uncommon in the skies of Mernith but they generally shot across the sky at high speed, not hang at a standstill.

And then things started to happen fast, the engines hum died down, the bulk of the ship started to turn into a dive that headed straight towards the borderline gate, serving a link between two of the most powerful countries on the planet. Over a hundred thousand trucks importing and exporting various goods along with many thousand civilians passed through the borderline gate each day. And unlucky five thousand people lost their lives as ten tonnes of hydrogen gas slammed into the landmark this day was marked as one of the most significant events in that last hundred years.

Several years passed and the city slowly rebuilt the gate which served so many and the trade route was active again. The new tower, which was now a lot larger than the older one, and resembled a zeppelin, facing nose up.

Along the walls of the gate were shops which sold all kinds of merchandise. And in one particular shop behind the counter sat Jane Foster. She sat with an expression of boredom only achieved by those who really did have nothing to do. Making a living in the tourist trade was not an easy business when no one wanted to touch the place. So she spent her days staring out of the rain drenched window at the passers by hoping that one of them may glance into the window and feel the sudden need to purchase a snow globe with an airship in it. The success rate of this event occurring was exactly zero percent, but at least she still got paid.

It was on this one particularly rainy day that she found herself staring into the face of what appeared to be a man with long dark hair. There appeared to be almost no emotion on the face, just a face that stared blankly for a few brief seconds and was then gone, swept away with the steady stream of people that passed the shops along the borderline gate's wall.

Jane felt that she had to run into the street and find the man who had just showed some attention towards the small shop but as it was monitored by security cameras she didn't have the choice to leave her post. She sat for two more hours until closing time and locked up. Upon returning to her flat she simply prepared a ready-meal and then went to sleep.

***

Jane woke up not to her alarm clock but to screaming in the streets outside, pulling open the curtains and gazing outside she witnessed that people were running, or just standing and staring at the sky. A zeppelin was floating motionless almost exactly as the first one had done, only it wasn't a Mernith Skyways ship, the side bore markings and symbols which Jane did not recognize. They seemed to glow.

There war a sudden knock at the door, startled, Jane made her way to it. Upon opening the hallway revealed a rain-soaked, long haired figure in a leather trench coat, The hear covered the left half of his face and what Jane could see of the expression on his face was of complete indifference.

“Do you have access to the roof?” asked the mysterious man.

“Uh, yes...” replied a now scared Jane.

“It is vital that you allow me to allow me access”

“But why?”

“I don't have time to explain! Lead the way.”

The man turned, revealing that on his back was a hand gun, or to be more accurate; a hand canon.
Jane swore she saw the glint of a blade behind his coat as he turned.

“Uh, follow me...”

On the roof the man wasted no time before getting to work, removing the gun from his back he then produced several attachments which, as Jane watched, would probably kill someone by heart attack before the trigger was pulled. The man then turned to Jane.

“You will want to stand back.”

Jane didn't feel any sense of movement but somehow she was suddenly a good 10 metres further back now.

The man turned back and took aim at the airship which had now begun to turn. He pulled back the hammer. He pulled the trigger.

***
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