Short Story: An Amoral Dilemma

By Max Masen

The lights came on and the thief opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his cell, waiting, waiting for something. He could not remember what for. But now he sat in a chair, his hands bound to the cold table in front of him. A man in a white suit sat across from him, eyeing him, waiting for him to make a move. The man tilted his head precariously and raised his eyebrows. The thief looked around the room. There was an open door with a beam of light coming through it, illuminating the corner of the room more than the rest of the area.

“What is this?” the thief asked. “Where am I?”

The man ignored his concerns and said: “You’ve been in prison for the last twenty years.”

The thief looked at him in a bout of confusion. “I know that.”

“You’ve spent many years withering away, learning, fighting, and scavenging for survival. But tell me, what have you learned?” The man leaned in toward the thief. “What has this place taught you?”

“It has taught me to be careful who I talk to; it has taught me to know when to say what. And right now, right now I am getting the feeling I should not be telling you anything at all,” the thief replied slyly. He sat back in his chair as far his imprisoned hands would allow him to go. He scooted the chair up further to the table to allow himself more freedom.

The man laughed at what the thief thought was a victory. “How many friends have you made in this place?”

“My friends… my friends are gone,” the thief replied. His head tilted low.

“All of the people you concerned yourself with, the people you relied on, the people that were with you when you were arrested. Where are they now?” the man asked.

The thief was quiet. He refused to look the man in the eyes.

The man perked his voice up and continued: “But what if I told you that through your life you have acquired skills that I desire? What if I told you that there was a job that existed that, if you accepted, I would release you from not only what binds your hands to the table in front of you but also from any legal obligations to stay in this prison. In short, I am offering you your freedom.”

The thief raised an eyebrow and shot the man an amused smile. “I would tell you that I am listening.”

“Don’t you want to know more about the job?” the man asked, confused as to the thief’s lack of inquiries. “Don’t you want to know what you would be stealing?”

“No.”

The man in the white suit stood up and fixed his tie. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He walked to the door and turned to face the thief.

“Wait. You’re not… you’re not a police officer,” the thief said. A sense of revelation came over him. “Yesterday…”

“Yesterday you died, thief.” The man in white finished the thief’s sentence. “And today you have proven that your time in prison, the time that was allotted to you to attone for your sins, has been wasted. Today you have proven that whatever morals you had have been compromised. And today you have allowed the title thief to define you. And today your gate is closed.” The man in white closed the door, cutting off the glowing light from outside. The lights inside of the room shut off one by one, leaving the thief alone.

Thank you for reading and for more short stories and full-length novels, remember to subscribe.

Short Story: Refuge

By Max Masen

“Where’s dad?” my sister asks, her breathing still intense. Her pupils grow wide, her stare billowing deep into me.

How do I tell her what happened? I still don’t believe it myself. I take off my hat and hold it against my heart.

She takes in a deep breath and a strand of tears beats down her face.  

I grab her shoulders and she raises her head. Her eyes glow. “What do we do?” she asks.

“Dad’s gone. But we can still follow through with the plan.” I raise my body slowly and I peer over the concrete ledges. A patrol goes by, light shining in my direction. I shove my body back down and press it hard against the concrete.

“What was it?” she whispers curiously.

“Patrol. We need to move. Can you run?” I ask, examining the bruises lining her left leg. Her eyes match mine and she looks at her own leg.

“I think so,” she says. She tries to raise her body, growing it to a crouch, but the pain is too much for her to bear. She falls back and her body hits the concrete. She shudders and just barely restrains herself from releasing a yelp.

I hear footsteps. They’re moving intently in our direction. “Shit. They’re coming this way. We need to move.”

“You need to,” she says. Her body is plastered unreluctantly against the concrete.

“What do you mean?” My eyes grow wide. My throat dries.

“You know what I mean. We aren’t both getting out of here.” A look of acceptance grows on her face, an aura of serenity overcoming her. “But you can.”

“We aren’t seriously discussing this right now,” I reply, disregarding the notion angrily. “I can throw your shoulder around my back and carry you. I can-”

“You can run.”

A voice is heard close by, yelling for us to come out. They’re close.

“Go! Now!” she screams to me.

I take off running, adrenaline taking the place of thoughts of regret or sadness. I keep running until my chest hurts, followed by pains in my calves. Is that screaming?

A gunshot. Echoes chasing behind me violently. I keep running. The pain subsides. I feel nothing.

My feet slow down until they’re barely moving. I fall to my knees, the skin scraping hard against the ground. But I don’t feel it. I raise my head and scream into the dark of the night.

“You want me?! Take me!” I scream.

Quiet, curious footsteps turn into running. They’re growing louder, getting closer.

I need to run. They’re too close. I won’t escape now.

“There’s one there!” one of them screams. He raises a rifle, aiming it at me carefully. More close in from behind him, and three move from the other side. Then I hear more from behind me screaming to the others.

I close my eyes. This is it.

No pain overtakes my body. I feel nothing. I open my eyes and a light surrounds me. A man stands before me, holding his hand out for me to grip. I reach mine out to meet his and he pulls me to my feet.

He smiles and says, “You’re safe now. Your father and sister arrived shortly before you.”

Thanks for reading and for more free short stories and full-length novels, remember to subscribe!