Just want to know how this reads:
Dirt and sand jumped frantically from the rough track, reaching for the dark clouds above as Elro speeded past the endless trees either side of him. Shifting his weight to one side and applying the brake suddenly he skidded around the corner, narrowly missed a crop of rocks, and sped back up the track. It took a few more turns until he saw his encampment, the high fence and the watch towers felt welcoming – the dirt bikes and jeeps was also comforting.
He didn’t slow down as he approached; the lookouts rushing to open the gate as the cloud of dust loomed closer, the gruff purr of an engine rolling along with it.
As Elro sped through the gap between the two retracting fence doors he had to swerve right as the left door was lagging behind, he felt his shoulder brush against the gate. He was admittedly in a good mood, but if you can’t open a damn gate properly, you need to be taught a lesson. The boys knew that he didn’t like to be disappointed – and he particularly hates having to throw out a perfectly good leather jacket.
Cutting the engine, he rolled the bike slowly into the nearest space amongst its painted brothers and pulled his helmet off, throwing it to the ground with a crash as he inspected his jacket.
One lengthy slash along the left forearm.
Taking the ruined jacket off he grabbed it in his left hand and marched over to the line of jeeps. Telling the boys to ready up and fill up, he told the nearest one to go get the shit that had messed up the gate.
He took a seat on one of the wooden benches outside the emptying common room, pulling a cigarette out and pushed the lighter from his pocket. As he lit the tip, the shit walked over to him.
“What’s your name?” He said, between a long inhale of the intoxicating fumes.
“Mickil, Sir.” A soft whimper in his voice.
“Do you know what this is, Mickil?” Elro asked, waving the jacket by his side.
“No sir.” He was scared, Elro sensed it as he took another long breath of nicotine.
“This is the jacket of mine you just ruined.” Elro said, staring into his eyes as he began to fidget, smoke rising past his dark eyes.
“Sorry Sir, I don’t. I mean I never meant. If I can do anything I...” He was stuttering now. Was he trying to piss Elro off?
“Shut up. Here.” He shoved the jacket into the young man’s hands. “It’s yours now.”
The boy looked confused - he was expecting something far worse than a gift, but he flashed an awkward smile and thanked Elro. He began to make his way back to his post when Elro stopped him.
“Aren’t you going to put it on?” He asked. The boy knew better than to think this was a question and quickly pushed his arms in, shaking the jacket into place - it barely fit his scrawny body.
“Boys? Boys! Come here.” Elro called those that surrounded the jeeps over to him. They came over still holding conversations and some even laughed among themselves, taking the last of the life from his cigarette, he flicked it at the group.
“Shut it! Now...What do we think?” Elro pointed to the jacket which hung loosely off of the boys shoulders, his head dropped slightly in shame.
A few of the boys laughed, others teased with mock compliments, but all were cut short when Elro stood suddenly – walking over to the boy. Taking the dagger from his belt he gripped it by the handle.
The boy was shivering now.
“Do you think this ruins the look?” he asked as he pointed the tip of the blade at the long unsightly tear down the left arm. He grabbed the boys shoulder tightly.
None of the men said anything.
“What about now?” he said softly and without looking, took the right sleeve and cut a similar line through it. “Matching arms, right?” Elro looked across the silent gang, all of them looked on in suspense.
“No? Maybe something like this then.” He stabbed into the jacket hard, pushing the dagger to one side so that it missed the boy by the width of a hair. The boy winced and almost jumped back, but chose against it. Elro pulled the dagger down, the scratching sound as the material was ripped slicing through the silence.
“Fashionable is it not?” He exclaimed loudly as he took a few steps back and turned to face the boy. “Well? What do you think boys?”
A few murmurs floated around but no one spoke up.
“I said, what do you think?” He screamed this time, his voice bouncing of the closely pact stone walls of the encampment buildings.
This time a handful of men raised their voices high enough for Elro to hear them. A mix of comments from the startled lot met his ears, but none were what he was looking for.
“No no. It needs something else I think.” As he said this Elro crossed his arms, frowning as he stared at the boy, draped in a mangle brown leather jacket, very out of place. He stood like this for a few minutes
“I know!” Elro said suddenly.
Pulling his pistol from his hip he shot three consecutive shots into the boy’s chest and watched as the blood flowed out and down the jacket, slowly he fell forwards, his face impacting with the dirt.
“Just needed a splash of colour.”
Dirt and sand jumped frantically from the rough track, reaching for the dark clouds above as Elro speeded past the endless trees either side of him. Shifting his weight to one side and applying the brake suddenly he skidded around the corner, narrowly missed a crop of rocks, and sped back up the track. It took a few more turns until he saw his encampment, the high fence and the watch towers felt welcoming – the dirt bikes and jeeps was also comforting.
He didn’t slow down as he approached; the lookouts rushing to open the gate as the cloud of dust loomed closer, the gruff purr of an engine rolling along with it.
As Elro sped through the gap between the two retracting fence doors he had to swerve right as the left door was lagging behind, he felt his shoulder brush against the gate. He was admittedly in a good mood, but if you can’t open a damn gate properly, you need to be taught a lesson. The boys knew that he didn’t like to be disappointed – and he particularly hates having to throw out a perfectly good leather jacket.
Cutting the engine, he rolled the bike slowly into the nearest space amongst its painted brothers and pulled his helmet off, throwing it to the ground with a crash as he inspected his jacket.
One lengthy slash along the left forearm.
Taking the ruined jacket off he grabbed it in his left hand and marched over to the line of jeeps. Telling the boys to ready up and fill up, he told the nearest one to go get the shit that had messed up the gate.
He took a seat on one of the wooden benches outside the emptying common room, pulling a cigarette out and pushed the lighter from his pocket. As he lit the tip, the shit walked over to him.
“What’s your name?” He said, between a long inhale of the intoxicating fumes.
“Mickil, Sir.” A soft whimper in his voice.
“Do you know what this is, Mickil?” Elro asked, waving the jacket by his side.
“No sir.” He was scared, Elro sensed it as he took another long breath of nicotine.
“This is the jacket of mine you just ruined.” Elro said, staring into his eyes as he began to fidget, smoke rising past his dark eyes.
“Sorry Sir, I don’t. I mean I never meant. If I can do anything I...” He was stuttering now. Was he trying to piss Elro off?
“Shut up. Here.” He shoved the jacket into the young man’s hands. “It’s yours now.”
The boy looked confused - he was expecting something far worse than a gift, but he flashed an awkward smile and thanked Elro. He began to make his way back to his post when Elro stopped him.
“Aren’t you going to put it on?” He asked. The boy knew better than to think this was a question and quickly pushed his arms in, shaking the jacket into place - it barely fit his scrawny body.
“Boys? Boys! Come here.” Elro called those that surrounded the jeeps over to him. They came over still holding conversations and some even laughed among themselves, taking the last of the life from his cigarette, he flicked it at the group.
“Shut it! Now...What do we think?” Elro pointed to the jacket which hung loosely off of the boys shoulders, his head dropped slightly in shame.
A few of the boys laughed, others teased with mock compliments, but all were cut short when Elro stood suddenly – walking over to the boy. Taking the dagger from his belt he gripped it by the handle.
The boy was shivering now.
“Do you think this ruins the look?” he asked as he pointed the tip of the blade at the long unsightly tear down the left arm. He grabbed the boys shoulder tightly.
None of the men said anything.
“What about now?” he said softly and without looking, took the right sleeve and cut a similar line through it. “Matching arms, right?” Elro looked across the silent gang, all of them looked on in suspense.
“No? Maybe something like this then.” He stabbed into the jacket hard, pushing the dagger to one side so that it missed the boy by the width of a hair. The boy winced and almost jumped back, but chose against it. Elro pulled the dagger down, the scratching sound as the material was ripped slicing through the silence.
“Fashionable is it not?” He exclaimed loudly as he took a few steps back and turned to face the boy. “Well? What do you think boys?”
A few murmurs floated around but no one spoke up.
“I said, what do you think?” He screamed this time, his voice bouncing of the closely pact stone walls of the encampment buildings.
This time a handful of men raised their voices high enough for Elro to hear them. A mix of comments from the startled lot met his ears, but none were what he was looking for.
“No no. It needs something else I think.” As he said this Elro crossed his arms, frowning as he stared at the boy, draped in a mangle brown leather jacket, very out of place. He stood like this for a few minutes
“I know!” Elro said suddenly.
Pulling his pistol from his hip he shot three consecutive shots into the boy’s chest and watched as the blood flowed out and down the jacket, slowly he fell forwards, his face impacting with the dirt.
“Just needed a splash of colour.”
