Terrorfiction The Collection Volume 1 by Anthony Creane

Author:Anthony Creane [Creane, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Terrorfiction
Published: 2018-04-12T14:00:00+00:00

13th Storey

The Grand Capital Hotel was thirteen storeys tall, and standing on the roof he could see most of the London skyline stretch out in front of him. He had briefly wondered if this building would actually be tall enough, but he decided it would be - if he did it right. Besides he had spent nearly an hour and a half trying to get access to roofs of suitably tall buildings until he found this one. It certainly wasn’t like the movies where the world and his wife could run from rooftop to rooftop. Most buildings were near impossible to get into, let alone gain access to their roofs. But eventually he had found a building. And a roof. It wasn’t as tall as he had planned or had hoped or whatever, but thirteen storeys should be plenty tall.

Especially if he went head first.

He had images of an Olympic high diver standing on the edge of the board filling his head and he wondered if that is what it would be like, stepping onto the roof ledge, toes just over edge. Deep down he knew it wouldn’t be anything as composed as that. He was more than likely just going to take the proverbial running jump. It’s not like there was going to be anyone scoring him out of ten for his landing. Not unless they were sick in the head anyway.

He looked away from the skyline and the horizon and focused on the edge of the roof, although it was still several metres away. The thought of walking - or running - towards it made him feel a little queasy and his legs feel hollow. Had it not been for the cold he probably would have broken out into a cold sweat.

Not that anyone who knew him would give a damn and nobody else would ever know the irony, but he liked the idea of a vertigo sufferer killing themselves by jumping from a tall building. He thought of it as a final, defiant, two fingered salute to life.

He knew the way he was facing was to the hundreds of shoppers swarming around the West End’s main shopping streets. In front of him was a little dead end backstreet. He had no desire to hurt or kill anyone else as he took his own life and the chances of anybody even being down that little back road was very, very low. The odds of somebody actually being directly under him as he fell must have been minute.

He closed his eyes, took a long, deep breath to steady himself before this final act. Before he took a single step he was interrupted.

“Nice view, isn’t it?”

He spun around and saw a strange man stood by the roof’s door. The door was closed, which was odd as he hadn’t heard the door open or close and it had squeaked like a son of a bitch when he had opened it. It also slammed closed like one too.

The Stranger wasn’t looking at him, the Stranger was just looking out over the city, admiring the view.

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