Day 4 —Write a story/excerpt to include the line, “Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that.”
Warning: this is a rough draft!! … but I feel that the point of this challenge is not to perfect and edit everything, rather get it on the page. The reason I am putting them all on here is to give me motivation. Seeing everyone liking and commenting and viewing really makes my day.
Special thanks to my really good friend who helped me edit this to what it is now!
Paris looked at him bluntly. “You can’t?”
The head of the insurance agency, who had previously introduced himself as Alex, looked at him and shook his head. “No. Sorry. We can’t ensure you for a trip like that.”
“You know I could kill you right?” This trip was what would give Paris freedom for a week with the ability to do whatever he wanted to do. But he needed to have the travel insurance first before he could travel across Trabia, the country where he lived, and be free. He was desperate to do anything to be free.
The man nodded. “You could. And it is a chance I am willing to take.”
Paris looked surprised, but didn’t show it. “I want to be ensured for this trip.”
“Truth is, Paris,” Alex paused for a moment to look for a reaction at using his name and not the alias that he was going by at that time: Bob Kerry. There was none. “The truth is, that I really do not care if you kill me over this.” He leaned forward tentatively. “Unlike you, I have nine lives. You have already taken three. You may take my fourth. In fact, take them all! I do not care.” His eyes were even as he met Paris’.
“I knew I recognized you,” Paris sneered, his eyes merely slits. He was an assassin. Unlike others, however, he had no free will. He could not kill – let alone breathe – without permission of his boss, Skuldess. And Alex looked exactly like a man he thought he had killed only a few months ago. He was killed by one shot to the head while he was sleeping. As Paris looked closer now he could see a small indent on Alex’s forehead where the bullet had gone through. He was sure that if he took Alex’s shirt he would find the stab marks from when Paris stabbed him, or from the time when he shot an arrow through his chest.
“I knew you would,” Alex smirked and leaned back on his chair casually. “Go ahead. Kill me. Kill me if you have the guts. I’ll just come back in about five minutes.” He crossed his arms and put his feet on the desk as if they were having a casual meeting.
Paris hesitated. It would be so easy to kill without permission from Skuldess. However would it be worth the risk? Would it be worth the severe punishment that would meet him? He couldn’t keep a secret from Skuldess. She knew everything. She could see the future, see the past, and control who lives and who dies. To the people of Trabia she was considered to have higher authority than the king.
“Go on.” The man smirked. He knew exactly all the rules and regulations of being a slave to Skuldess. Skuldess would not call Paris a slave, but that was how he was treated. Had to earn everything.
Paris’ hand hovered over where a gun was concealed at his waist.
“I should warn you, though,” Alex casually added. “If you kill me the ninth time, you are mentioned in my will. There will be a price on your head. I know all your aliases. I have been following you, Paris. I know everything about you. Everything.”
“What do you have against me?”
Alex laughed mirthlessly. “Do you really want me to tell you all the secrets about your personal life that you do not even know yet? No. I may be a jerk, but I am not evil. You, however? Evil as they come.”
Paris felt his heartbeat quicken. This man was getting on his nerves. “Indeed, you are a jerk. I’ve watched you as well, and I know your family, your likes, your dislikes, and I know that your children do not have nine lives like you,” Paris stalked across the room, seeing Alex stiffening as he was sensing a threat. “And if you say one more word against me I will make sure that your eldest daughter – your favourite child – will be dead within the day. Don’t even bother to hide her, Alex. I. Will. Find. Her.” Paris took out the gun and shot around Alex, the bullets hitting the wall behind him and outlining his head. Alex’s face went white as a ghost, stunned. Paris took the papers he came with and swiftly left the office to where his trusty horse was waiting for his return.
“Let’s go, boy,” he spoke to Toby, his horse, and got into the saddle. “We don’t need paperwork to go where we’re going anyhow.”