Short story based off a comic I'm writing called The Roberts. Crits would be good
The glass chinked as the whisky flowed in, cascading over the icecubes inside. "Sir, thats your second drink tonight. Are you sure you dont want me to drive you home?" the voice cutting through the darkness, bringing Nate Novaks back to the real world, at his desk inside his cold, his eyes on eyes on the New Bedlam skyline. "No Ivy...I'm expecting company tonight, but thankyou for the offer". "Yes sir" she replied as her heels tapped on the floor towards the door. Rising from his chair and facing his secretary Novaks paused in an attempt to find his words. "Ivy...m.mke sure to check on Elliot?","Yes sir".
An hour or two passed by after Ivy left. She made sure to call Novaks to report his son was safely tucked in bed. My Son he thought to himself as he caught his reflection in the window pane. You dont deserve a son. The fourth glass went down easy as Novaks sharply tilted his his head up, but the memories were stronger as they swam passed the drink and replayed themselves in Novaks mind in a constant loop. Slumping into his seat, he stared at the bottom of the window. Though it was in prestine condition just like the rest of the office that wasn't what Novaks saw.
He saw a hand in his, its grip like a vicejaw as the older man dangled from the window, the plaze beneath his feet. You made me into thisLoosening his own grip, Novaks could still see how delicatly violent gravity pulled the older man, the sound of his skull bursting open after a minute or so like a melon. But the image that burned itself into his recollections, that had haunted him since he was eighteen was the older mans smile. A fathers smile or pride You made me into this you son of a *****!
CRASH!
The pieces of the whisky glass scattered and skid along the floor and for a minute all Novaks could do was breathe heavily, exhaling the rage out of his system. He looked to the clock on the right wall, 11:53. Finally calm, Novaks walked over to the mini bar in the corner of the office and retrieved himself another glass. "Good Evening Roberts" he said as he turned to the window and raised the glass to his lips.
"How many have you had Nate?" Roberts asked. "Not enough, I'm celebrating". "What"
"An anniversary". The blazing colbalt eyes approched Novaks from the open window, Roberts voice beguiling his impressive physique. "Nate, its April". A cynical curl developed on Novaks lower lip "Not hers, Qauntum"
"What is it Nate? What was so important I had to come right now? I would've thought you wanted to 'celebrate' your fathers death alone" "Well you think alot of things dont you Roberts eheh" Novaks chuckled. "Want a drink?", "No thanks" "Oh thats right tonights a school night isn't it Professor Roberts" Novaks wrly replied as he sat himself back down at his desk.
"Why do I get the feeling I've already heard this tyrad before" "Because your perceptions aren't just limited to that telescopic vision of yours" sighing in annoyance and defeat Roberts headed back to the open window "Goodnight Nate"
As Roberts prepared to kick back into the sky, Novaks quickly spoke. "Do you know why I hate you and that freak family of yours Quantum?" Quantum Roberts froze in his tracks, his heart rate was increasing by the second.
"Because the one notion... that Marxism and Democracy shared, the one unifying theory between even the most hated enemies...that, that all men were created equal, and you and your freak brats went and fucked that up". "Your crossing a line Novaks" Quantum cooly said as his eyes changed to a brilliant crimson. Novaks simply continued unfazed "Don't you ever wonder what humanity would be like if you, Emil, Helen and the kids weren't around. Your stunting our growth Roberts, the lot of you. And the day you realise what your doing and decide to leave Earth and join that intergalatic space hussy you call a mother, the better off we'll be and further mo.." as the words escaped his lips Novaks realised the room was empty.
figures Taking another sip from his drink Novaks felt a chill in the air. As he lifted himself off he turned around to the pane towards him and froze. A message had been written in a thin layer of frost from the outside. Your father would be proud. Novaks stood there for a good 10 minutes before sinking to the floor, fighting back the tears as he told his son good night"
EDITED
The glass chinked as the whisky flowed in, cascading over the icecubes inside. "Sir, thats your second drink tonight. Are you sure you dont want me to drive you home?" the voice cutting through the darkness, bringing Nate Novaks back to the real world, at his desk inside his cold, his eyes on eyes on the New Bedlam skyline. "No Ivy...I'm expecting company tonight, but thankyou for the offer". "Yes sir" she replied as her heels tapped on the floor towards the door. Rising from his chair and facing his secretary Novaks paused in an attempt to find his words. "Ivy...m.mke sure to check on Elliot?","Yes sir".
An hour or two passed by after Ivy left. She made sure to call Novaks to report his son was safely tucked in bed. My Son he thought to himself as he caught his reflection in the window pane. You dont deserve a son. The fourth glass went down easy as Novaks sharply tilted his his head up, but the memories were stronger as they swam passed the drink and replayed themselves in Novaks mind in a constant loop. Slumping into his seat, he stared at the bottom of the window. Though it was in prestine condition just like the rest of the office that wasn't what Novaks saw.
He saw a hand in his, its grip like a vicejaw as the older man dangled from the window, the plaze beneath his feet. You made me into thisLoosening his own grip, Novaks could still see how delicatly violent gravity pulled the older man, the sound of his skull bursting open after a minute or so like a melon. But the image that burned itself into his recollections, that had haunted him since he was eighteen was the older mans smile. A fathers smile or pride You made me into this you son of a *****!
CRASH!
The pieces of the whisky glass scattered and skid along the floor and for a minute all Novaks could do was breathe heavily, exhaling the rage out of his system. He looked to the clock on the right wall, 11:53. Finally calm, Novaks walked over to the mini bar in the corner of the office and retrieved himself another glass. "Good Evening Roberts" he said as he turned to the window and raised the glass to his lips.
"How many have you had Nate?" Roberts asked. "Not enough, I'm celebrating". "What"
"An anniversary". The blazing colbalt eyes approched Novaks from the open window, Roberts voice beguiling his impressive physique. "Nate, its April". A cynical curl developed on Novaks lower lip "Not hers, Qauntum"
"What is it Nate? What was so important I had to come right now? I would've thought you wanted to 'celebrate' your fathers death alone" "Well you think alot of things dont you Roberts eheh" Novaks chuckled. "Want a drink?", "No thanks" "Oh thats right tonights a school night isn't it Professor Roberts" Novaks wrly replied as he sat himself back down at his desk.
"Why do I get the feeling I've already heard this tyrad before" "Because your perceptions aren't just limited to that telescopic vision of yours" sighing in annoyance and defeat Roberts headed back to the open window "Goodnight Nate"
As Roberts prepared to kick back into the sky, Novaks quickly spoke. "Do you know why I hate you and that freak family of yours Quantum?" Quantum Roberts froze in his tracks, his heart rate was increasing by the second.
"Because the one notion... that Marxism and Democracy shared, the one unifying theory between even the most hated enemies...that, that all men were created equal, and you and your freak brats went and fucked that up". "Your crossing a line Novaks" Quantum cooly said as his eyes changed to a brilliant crimson. Novaks simply continued unfazed "Don't you ever wonder what humanity would be like if you, Emil, Helen and the kids weren't around. Your stunting our growth Roberts, the lot of you. And the day you realise what your doing and decide to leave Earth and join that intergalatic space hussy you call a mother, the better off we'll be and further mo.." as the words escaped his lips Novaks realised the room was empty.
figures Taking another sip from his drink Novaks felt a chill in the air. As he lifted himself off he turned around to the pane towards him and froze. A message had been written in a thin layer of frost from the outside. Your father would be proud. Novaks stood there for a good 10 minutes before sinking to the floor, fighting back the tears as he told his son good night"
EDITED