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Marko parted the sod of grass and peered across the road to see if he had been spotted. There was no sign of the men that had chased him from the lab, waving their guns around as if it gave them the authority to do whatever they liked. There was no sign of the men dressed in the big black suits that had pursued his in the days since his escape. For the first time in three days, at least for a moment, Marko had the chance to rest.
As he lay back in the ditch, pulling some of the softer weeds over himself for cover and warmth, he noticed how much he ached. Every bone in his body felt heavy, as if his muscles no longer had the strength to hold them up. His head was pounding, constantly, as if at any moment his brain was going to erupt through his skull. He looked down at his fur, so filthy with a combination of mud and blood, and around at his poor mangled tail.
It was only hours that they had him, although only briefly. He had been so hungry that he had to take the risk, across the car park and into the skip out the back, half-eaten burgers in exciting zesty sauces. Perhaps not first choice for a spider-monkey like Marko, but better than the empty feeling in his stomach. It was whilst reaching into a banana milkshake, licking the sweet taste from his tiny hands that one of them grabbed him. Pulled from the skip by his tail he was momentarily helpless. He screeched as the man turned him round, pushing up his sunglasses to gaze upon him with his own eyes. He spoke, but not to Marko, into some tiny microphone on his lapel.
"I have the Magic Monkey. Ready to sedate. I'll bring him in shortly"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and Marko remembered the labs. Every day, a needle in the arm, or the leg, or the stomach. Every day, pads attached to his head. Every day people watching, taking notes. But why did she let him out that day? He had wanted it, more than anything, and she did it, as he wished.
Marko looked again at the sharp point coming towards him and he wished, pushed the though right into the man's head. "let me go."
Back in the skip, the top fell down too, catching his tail. He screeched, and the lid was pulled open once more. The man stood motionless as Marko clambered out of the skip and into the back of a van. He pushed past a number of boxes and into the corner. A couple of the boxes were removed, but Marko remained hidden, and the doors were closed.
The vehicle noisily burst into life, an experience which was entirely new to Marko. He moved back towards the doors, only to be thrown against a box. The movement was disorientating, making his head spin. The zesty sauce came up in his mouth, but he forced it back down, not knowing when the opportunity to next eat would arise. He pushed at the doors, and whilst they creaked, they would not come free from their catch.
Once more Marko was thrown into the boxes, this time with considerably more force and he was sure that he heard more of those weapons firing that had plagued him in recent days. When the doors opened Marko wasted no time in jumping out. He didn't even stop to see who opened the door, he could bare to be in there no longer.
"We have him. The Magic Monkey is in our sights" came a voice from behind the van. Marko looked around to see that more of those men in their big suits, with their nasty guns were looking at him. He could see their guns pointing at him as he scrambled across the road.
The sound of a car horn pierced the air as the gust of the heavy vehicle knocked him over. Seconds later this was followed by a squeal as another of these vehicles came to a stop right next to him, casting a spell of dust around the scene.
He took the opportunity to flee into the bushes, through thick shrubs, the thorns tearing through his fur. He could hear the chaos on the road. The men shouting, telling no one to move, orders being barked out, search the cars, call for back-up, check those bushes.
Knowing they were coming for him once more, he carried on through the thicket. The thorns became thicker as he went deeper in, scratching further through his fur and into his skin, his blood matching the colour of the berries. He struggled through to the other side, where an open ploughed field lay in front of him. He started to head across, but felt very insecure out in the open. His head throbbed, and, knowing he was in danger, he darted into the ditch. As he reached the cover of the long grass he felt a strong gust of wind. Looking up he saw a helicopter hovering over the field, with men inside gazing out. Once more they pointed their toys at him, and once more he knew it was time to run. Behind him he heard a high pitch whine, before he was thrown into the air by a blast. He landed with a thud, and lumps of mud rained down on him. For a moment he thought about not moving, about staying where he was. Let the men take him back to the lab. But something told him that he was highly unlikely to ever see that lab again, and his only option was to keep going.
He crawled into the ditch and followed it until he saw a dark opening. He headed into the concrete cylinder, the helicopter close behind him. Once more he heard the high-pitched whine, and seconds later the concrete behind him collapsed. In the dark once more, Marko struggled to find his bearings. At first he tried to dig away at the broken concrete, anything to get back out into the open, but the helicopter could still be heard outside. He turned and went into the darkness, his hands stretched out in front of himself, and his tail twitching nervously. Soon enough his eyes were rewarded with light, and he made his way through to it. He found himself in a ditch, with a road running beside it. The helicopter could not be heard, so he peered through the sod of grass.
He tried to lay still, but he couldn’t. Every way he tried to lay caused only more pain, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled more grass and weeds over his body, trying to warm himself up, but even that effort caused more hurt. Further along the ditch he saw a pool of water. Slowly he approached it before bending down and falling in. He forced himself up, then drunk from the pool. There he remained, watching the water ripple. When it was still he looked in to see a muddy reflection. His eyes stared back at him and he knew it was all wrong. They were not eyes that should belong on one of his kind, they shouldn’t know so much fear and pain.
As he stared into the pool the ripples returned, caused by the first drops of a seasonal shower. He looked back to the tunnel, knowing that there he would be dry, but the thought of moving made his limbs ache. He looked up at the sky for the longest time, a sky he had never seen before three days ago. He looked at the grey clouds, and was sure that the shapes were making a picture, showing him something better. As lightning forked across the sky he lay motionless, amazed by the beauty of it all, and drifted off into an untroubled sleep from which he never awoke.
As he lay back in the ditch, pulling some of the softer weeds over himself for cover and warmth, he noticed how much he ached. Every bone in his body felt heavy, as if his muscles no longer had the strength to hold them up. His head was pounding, constantly, as if at any moment his brain was going to erupt through his skull. He looked down at his fur, so filthy with a combination of mud and blood, and around at his poor mangled tail.
It was only hours that they had him, although only briefly. He had been so hungry that he had to take the risk, across the car park and into the skip out the back, half-eaten burgers in exciting zesty sauces. Perhaps not first choice for a spider-monkey like Marko, but better than the empty feeling in his stomach. It was whilst reaching into a banana milkshake, licking the sweet taste from his tiny hands that one of them grabbed him. Pulled from the skip by his tail he was momentarily helpless. He screeched as the man turned him round, pushing up his sunglasses to gaze upon him with his own eyes. He spoke, but not to Marko, into some tiny microphone on his lapel.
"I have the Magic Monkey. Ready to sedate. I'll bring him in shortly"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and Marko remembered the labs. Every day, a needle in the arm, or the leg, or the stomach. Every day, pads attached to his head. Every day people watching, taking notes. But why did she let him out that day? He had wanted it, more than anything, and she did it, as he wished.
Marko looked again at the sharp point coming towards him and he wished, pushed the though right into the man's head. "let me go."
Back in the skip, the top fell down too, catching his tail. He screeched, and the lid was pulled open once more. The man stood motionless as Marko clambered out of the skip and into the back of a van. He pushed past a number of boxes and into the corner. A couple of the boxes were removed, but Marko remained hidden, and the doors were closed.
The vehicle noisily burst into life, an experience which was entirely new to Marko. He moved back towards the doors, only to be thrown against a box. The movement was disorientating, making his head spin. The zesty sauce came up in his mouth, but he forced it back down, not knowing when the opportunity to next eat would arise. He pushed at the doors, and whilst they creaked, they would not come free from their catch.
Once more Marko was thrown into the boxes, this time with considerably more force and he was sure that he heard more of those weapons firing that had plagued him in recent days. When the doors opened Marko wasted no time in jumping out. He didn't even stop to see who opened the door, he could bare to be in there no longer.
"We have him. The Magic Monkey is in our sights" came a voice from behind the van. Marko looked around to see that more of those men in their big suits, with their nasty guns were looking at him. He could see their guns pointing at him as he scrambled across the road.
The sound of a car horn pierced the air as the gust of the heavy vehicle knocked him over. Seconds later this was followed by a squeal as another of these vehicles came to a stop right next to him, casting a spell of dust around the scene.
He took the opportunity to flee into the bushes, through thick shrubs, the thorns tearing through his fur. He could hear the chaos on the road. The men shouting, telling no one to move, orders being barked out, search the cars, call for back-up, check those bushes.
Knowing they were coming for him once more, he carried on through the thicket. The thorns became thicker as he went deeper in, scratching further through his fur and into his skin, his blood matching the colour of the berries. He struggled through to the other side, where an open ploughed field lay in front of him. He started to head across, but felt very insecure out in the open. His head throbbed, and, knowing he was in danger, he darted into the ditch. As he reached the cover of the long grass he felt a strong gust of wind. Looking up he saw a helicopter hovering over the field, with men inside gazing out. Once more they pointed their toys at him, and once more he knew it was time to run. Behind him he heard a high pitch whine, before he was thrown into the air by a blast. He landed with a thud, and lumps of mud rained down on him. For a moment he thought about not moving, about staying where he was. Let the men take him back to the lab. But something told him that he was highly unlikely to ever see that lab again, and his only option was to keep going.
He crawled into the ditch and followed it until he saw a dark opening. He headed into the concrete cylinder, the helicopter close behind him. Once more he heard the high-pitched whine, and seconds later the concrete behind him collapsed. In the dark once more, Marko struggled to find his bearings. At first he tried to dig away at the broken concrete, anything to get back out into the open, but the helicopter could still be heard outside. He turned and went into the darkness, his hands stretched out in front of himself, and his tail twitching nervously. Soon enough his eyes were rewarded with light, and he made his way through to it. He found himself in a ditch, with a road running beside it. The helicopter could not be heard, so he peered through the sod of grass.
He tried to lay still, but he couldn’t. Every way he tried to lay caused only more pain, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled more grass and weeds over his body, trying to warm himself up, but even that effort caused more hurt. Further along the ditch he saw a pool of water. Slowly he approached it before bending down and falling in. He forced himself up, then drunk from the pool. There he remained, watching the water ripple. When it was still he looked in to see a muddy reflection. His eyes stared back at him and he knew it was all wrong. They were not eyes that should belong on one of his kind, they shouldn’t know so much fear and pain.
As he stared into the pool the ripples returned, caused by the first drops of a seasonal shower. He looked back to the tunnel, knowing that there he would be dry, but the thought of moving made his limbs ache. He looked up at the sky for the longest time, a sky he had never seen before three days ago. He looked at the grey clouds, and was sure that the shapes were making a picture, showing him something better. As lightning forked across the sky he lay motionless, amazed by the beauty of it all, and drifted off into an untroubled sleep from which he never awoke.
I need a tissue 'cos I seem to have something in my eye which is making them water :(
Fantastic, great ending. Will it be the winner? Find out soon!
:-)
I don't think I have ever felt so sorry for a monkey!
Marko parted the sod of grass and peered across the road to see if he had been spotted. There was no sign of the men that had chased him from the lab, waving their guns around as if it gave them the authority to do whatever they liked. There was no sign of the men dressed in the big black suits that had pursued his in the days since his escape. For the first time in three days, at least for a moment, Marko had the chance to rest.
As he lay back in the ditch, pulling some of the softer weeds over himself for cover and warmth, he noticed how much he ached. Every bone in his body felt heavy, as if his muscles no longer had the strength to hold them up. His head was pounding, constantly, as if at any moment his brain was going to erupt through his skull. He looked down at his fur, so filthy with a combination of mud and blood, and around at his poor mangled tail.
It was only hours that they had him, although only briefly. He had been so hungry that he had to take the risk, across the car park and into the skip out the back, half-eaten burgers in exciting zesty sauces. Perhaps not first choice for a spider-monkey like Marko, but better than the empty feeling in his stomach. It was whilst reaching into a banana milkshake, licking the sweet taste from his tiny hands that one of them grabbed him. Pulled from the skip by his tail he was momentarily helpless. He screeched as the man turned him round, pushing up his sunglasses to gaze upon him with his own eyes. He spoke, but not to Marko, into some tiny microphone on his lapel.
"I have the Magic Monkey. Ready to sedate. I'll bring him in shortly"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and Marko remembered the labs. Every day, a needle in the arm, or the leg, or the stomach. Every day, pads attached to his head. Every day people watching, taking notes. But why did she let him out that day? He had wanted it, more than anything, and she did it, as he wished.
Marko looked again at the sharp point coming towards him and he wished, pushed the though right into the man's head. "let me go."
Back in the skip, the top fell down too, catching his tail. He screeched, and the lid was pulled open once more. The man stood motionless as Marko clambered out of the skip and into the back of a van. He pushed past a number of boxes and into the corner. A couple of the boxes were removed, but Marko remained hidden, and the doors were closed.
The vehicle noisily burst into life, an experience which was entirely new to Marko. He moved back towards the doors, only to be thrown against a box. The movement was disorientating, making his head spin. The zesty sauce came up in his mouth, but he forced it back down, not knowing when the opportunity to next eat would arise. He pushed at the doors, and whilst they creaked, they would not come free from their catch.
Once more Marko was thrown into the boxes, this time with considerably more force and he was sure that he heard more of those weapons firing that had plagued him in recent days. When the doors opened Marko wasted no time in jumping out. He didn't even stop to see who opened the door, he could bare to be in there no longer.
"We have him. The Magic Monkey is in our sights" came a voice from behind the van. Marko looked around to see that more of those men in their big suits, with their nasty guns were looking at him. He could see their guns pointing at him as he scrambled across the road.
The sound of a car horn pierced the air as the gust of the heavy vehicle knocked him over. Seconds later this was followed by a squeal as another of these vehicles came to a stop right next to him, casting a spell of dust around the scene.
He took the opportunity to flee into the bushes, through thick shrubs, the thorns tearing through his fur. He could hear the chaos on the road. The men shouting, telling no one to move, orders being barked out, search the cars, call for back-up, check those bushes.
Knowing they were coming for him once more, he carried on through the thicket. The thorns became thicker as he went deeper in, scratching further through his fur and into his skin, his blood matching the colour of the berries. He struggled through to the other side, where an open ploughed field lay in front of him. He started to head across, but felt very insecure out in the open. His head throbbed, and, knowing he was in danger, he darted into the ditch. As he reached the cover of the long grass he felt a strong gust of wind. Looking up he saw a helicopter hovering over the field, with men inside gazing out. Once more they pointed their toys at him, and once more he knew it was time to run. Behind him he heard a high pitch whine, before he was thrown into the air by a blast. He landed with a thud, and lumps of mud rained down on him. For a moment he thought about not moving, about staying where he was. Let the men take him back to the lab. But something told him that he was highly unlikely to ever see that lab again, and his only option was to keep going.
He crawled into the ditch and followed it until he saw a dark opening. He headed into the concrete cylinder, the helicopter close behind him. Once more he heard the high-pitched whine, and seconds later the concrete behind him collapsed. In the dark once more, Marko struggled to find his bearings. At first he tried to dig away at the broken concrete, anything to get back out into the open, but the helicopter could still be heard outside. He turned and went into the darkness, his hands stretched out in front of himself, and his tail twitching nervously. Soon enough his eyes were rewarded with light, and he made his way through to it. He found himself in a ditch, with a road running beside it. The helicopter could not be heard, so he peered through the sod of grass.
He tried to lay still, but he couldn’t. Every way he tried to lay caused only more pain, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled more grass and weeds over his body, trying to warm himself up, but even that effort caused more hurt. Further along the ditch he saw a pool of water. Slowly he approached it before bending down and falling in. He forced himself up, then drunk from the pool. There he remained, watching the water ripple. When it was still he looked in to see a muddy reflection. His eyes stared back at him and he knew it was all wrong. They were not eyes that should belong on one of his kind, they shouldn’t know so much fear and pain.
As he stared into the pool the ripples returned, caused by the first drops of a seasonal shower. He looked back to the tunnel, knowing that there he would be dry, but the thought of moving made his limbs ache. He looked up at the sky for the longest time, a sky he had never seen before three days ago. He looked at the grey clouds, and was sure that the shapes were making a picture, showing him something better. As lightning forked across the sky he lay motionless, amazed by the beauty of it all, and drifted off into an untroubled sleep from which he never awoke.
As he lay back in the ditch, pulling some of the softer weeds over himself for cover and warmth, he noticed how much he ached. Every bone in his body felt heavy, as if his muscles no longer had the strength to hold them up. His head was pounding, constantly, as if at any moment his brain was going to erupt through his skull. He looked down at his fur, so filthy with a combination of mud and blood, and around at his poor mangled tail.
It was only hours that they had him, although only briefly. He had been so hungry that he had to take the risk, across the car park and into the skip out the back, half-eaten burgers in exciting zesty sauces. Perhaps not first choice for a spider-monkey like Marko, but better than the empty feeling in his stomach. It was whilst reaching into a banana milkshake, licking the sweet taste from his tiny hands that one of them grabbed him. Pulled from the skip by his tail he was momentarily helpless. He screeched as the man turned him round, pushing up his sunglasses to gaze upon him with his own eyes. He spoke, but not to Marko, into some tiny microphone on his lapel.
"I have the Magic Monkey. Ready to sedate. I'll bring him in shortly"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and Marko remembered the labs. Every day, a needle in the arm, or the leg, or the stomach. Every day, pads attached to his head. Every day people watching, taking notes. But why did she let him out that day? He had wanted it, more than anything, and she did it, as he wished.
Marko looked again at the sharp point coming towards him and he wished, pushed the though right into the man's head. "let me go."
Back in the skip, the top fell down too, catching his tail. He screeched, and the lid was pulled open once more. The man stood motionless as Marko clambered out of the skip and into the back of a van. He pushed past a number of boxes and into the corner. A couple of the boxes were removed, but Marko remained hidden, and the doors were closed.
The vehicle noisily burst into life, an experience which was entirely new to Marko. He moved back towards the doors, only to be thrown against a box. The movement was disorientating, making his head spin. The zesty sauce came up in his mouth, but he forced it back down, not knowing when the opportunity to next eat would arise. He pushed at the doors, and whilst they creaked, they would not come free from their catch.
Once more Marko was thrown into the boxes, this time with considerably more force and he was sure that he heard more of those weapons firing that had plagued him in recent days. When the doors opened Marko wasted no time in jumping out. He didn't even stop to see who opened the door, he could bare to be in there no longer.
"We have him. The Magic Monkey is in our sights" came a voice from behind the van. Marko looked around to see that more of those men in their big suits, with their nasty guns were looking at him. He could see their guns pointing at him as he scrambled across the road.
The sound of a car horn pierced the air as the gust of the heavy vehicle knocked him over. Seconds later this was followed by a squeal as another of these vehicles came to a stop right next to him, casting a spell of dust around the scene.
He took the opportunity to flee into the bushes, through thick shrubs, the thorns tearing through his fur. He could hear the chaos on the road. The men shouting, telling no one to move, orders being barked out, search the cars, call for back-up, check those bushes.
Knowing they were coming for him once more, he carried on through the thicket. The thorns became thicker as he went deeper in, scratching further through his fur and into his skin, his blood matching the colour of the berries. He struggled through to the other side, where an open ploughed field lay in front of him. He started to head across, but felt very insecure out in the open. His head throbbed, and, knowing he was in danger, he darted into the ditch. As he reached the cover of the long grass he felt a strong gust of wind. Looking up he saw a helicopter hovering over the field, with men inside gazing out. Once more they pointed their toys at him, and once more he knew it was time to run. Behind him he heard a high pitch whine, before he was thrown into the air by a blast. He landed with a thud, and lumps of mud rained down on him. For a moment he thought about not moving, about staying where he was. Let the men take him back to the lab. But something told him that he was highly unlikely to ever see that lab again, and his only option was to keep going.
He crawled into the ditch and followed it until he saw a dark opening. He headed into the concrete cylinder, the helicopter close behind him. Once more he heard the high-pitched whine, and seconds later the concrete behind him collapsed. In the dark once more, Marko struggled to find his bearings. At first he tried to dig away at the broken concrete, anything to get back out into the open, but the helicopter could still be heard outside. He turned and went into the darkness, his hands stretched out in front of himself, and his tail twitching nervously. Soon enough his eyes were rewarded with light, and he made his way through to it. He found himself in a ditch, with a road running beside it. The helicopter could not be heard, so he peered through the sod of grass.
He tried to lay still, but he couldn’t. Every way he tried to lay caused only more pain, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled more grass and weeds over his body, trying to warm himself up, but even that effort caused more hurt. Further along the ditch he saw a pool of water. Slowly he approached it before bending down and falling in. He forced himself up, then drunk from the pool. There he remained, watching the water ripple. When it was still he looked in to see a muddy reflection. His eyes stared back at him and he knew it was all wrong. They were not eyes that should belong on one of his kind, they shouldn’t know so much fear and pain.
As he stared into the pool the ripples returned, caused by the first drops of a seasonal shower. He looked back to the tunnel, knowing that there he would be dry, but the thought of moving made his limbs ache. He looked up at the sky for the longest time, a sky he had never seen before three days ago. He looked at the grey clouds, and was sure that the shapes were making a picture, showing him something better. As lightning forked across the sky he lay motionless, amazed by the beauty of it all, and drifted off into an untroubled sleep from which he never awoke.