The Key

The door stared at him expectantly. The keyhole was the equivalent of a blank page to a writer, prying into his brain. The key was in his hand, golden and shining, but he couldn’t raise that hand and put the key to the keyhole.

He knew he had to open that door. He always knew. But right now when it was finally time to do it, he just couldn’t. A part of him didn’t want to either. And that part was slowly bearing down on the other.

He looked down at the key sitting in his right palm and exhaled sharply. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and onto his cheek before dangling precariously from his chin. He nervously wiped it off with his shoulder.

He still wasn’t so sure he really wanted to see what was behind that large wooden door.

He looked around for a bit and then at the door he had used to get in here, which was slightly ajar and a silhouetteΒ of a man could be seen outside. Looking back at the keyhole, he finally raised his hand again and put the key to the keyhole. The key was pushed into the hole with a faint sound and rotating it to its side, the door unlocked with a satisfying click.

He pulled the door out of the keyhole. The doorknob was cold and seemed to draw all his energy out of him. He turned it and slowly opened the old, creaky door. He raised his gaze from the floor to what was in front of him.

He stuffed the key back into the jacket pocket he had produced it from, and slowly walked forward.

The Magnum sat on the big plastic container shining in the little light that was given off by the bulb in the room he had just come from. The thought that that black mass was loaded, induced shivers in him. He hastily picked it up and stuffed it in another jacket pocket of his, not before assuring that the safety was switched on.

While turning back to the door his eyes drifted to the mirror hanging on the wall to his left. His forehead was filled with creases and his dark brown eyes no longer had the spark and liveliness they once did. They looked tired. The deep gash at the base of his neck was still sore and blue – green.

He turned away and walked back into the dimly – lit room. Walking past the furniture he got to the main door and stepped out beside the man whose brown leather jacket could be clearly seen out here at close proximity.

He slowly turned his eyes to the other man’s face and nodded. The other man grimly nodded in return and started briskly walking to the stairs they had used to get up here. They were both back down on the pavement in a couple of minutes and into the black car waiting for them in not more than ten seconds.

As they got in and the car started, the man was handed a file.

“Here’s your target,” said the man who handed him the file.

As the file was opened and the file photo of the target was seen, the man gulped heavily, the dark brown eyes fluttered for a moment and then welled up before he regained control of himself.

The Daily Prompt


This post was linked up to Nikki Young‘s Friday Fiction Link – Up event.

8 thoughts on “The Key”

  1. Thanks for linking this to #FridayFiction. You do a great job of setting up an intriguing scene and it leaves at a point where the reader is left wondering who the target is and what he means to the assassin. In terms of the writing, watch the use of adverbs. For example, the door looked at him expectantly. What does that mean exactly, can you describe it in another way? There are other examples of this too, such as ‘slowly turned his eyes’. I get that you want to build up the tension by drawing out the moment where he opens the door, but I think this section could be tightened up. Instead you could put more in to what he sees when he opens the door. At the moment, it isn’t entirely clear where the gun or what else is in that room. Is it a cupboard?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much! πŸ™‚ Yes, that was exactly what I wanted to do: draw it out. I didn’t elaborate much on the contents of that room because I thought a description might not hold a reader’s attention as well. But no, the gun was kept on the top of a toilet in the apartment’s bathroom. That’s how the mirror comes in as well. Thank you very much once again for stopping by and taking the time to give me great inputs like these. That was really thoughtful πŸ™‚ Do come by again!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Yesss… After reading about him stuffing the gun in his pocket, I told myself he must be an assassin.
    Your way of writing seems professional. And you are just 16! Never stop writing!


    1. Thank you very much! πŸ™‚ Haha I never intended for him to be an assassin actually. I just went with my thoughts and initially I wanted to bring a sort of a funny twist at the end but then decided to do it this way. Thanks again for stopping by! πŸ™‚


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