• The Man in the Black Suit
    A short story by Ted E. M. Cobimott

    “How do you like me now?” The man in the black suit said. The boy in the white shirt struggled against the bonds that kept his arms to his sides, but to no avail. The man in the black suit limped over to the boy in the white shirt., his black cane resounding as his hit the ground, a constant, click, click, click, click. The man in the black suit but his scarred face in clear view of the boy in the white shirt.
    “You can’t do this to me!” the boy in the white shirt spat. The man in the black suit suddenly pulled a sword out of his cane.
    “You will not disrespect me, boy. You have no power to speak of, and I have influence in high places. There is no getting out of this, slick.” The man in the black suit growled, spitting in the boy in the white shirt’s face as he finished the sentence. The man in the black suit sheathed his sword and limped to the phone booth by the smoking ruins of the boy in the white shirt’s house.
    “I’ve got him.” The man in the black suit growled into the phone, a low, raspy voice grating on the boy in the white shirt’s ears. The boy in the white shirt painfully moved his hands into his pockets, the rope digging into the sensitive flesh of his wrists. He pulled out a small dagger from his pockets, and slowly began to cut through the ropes. As the boy in the white shirt finally cut through his bonds, he ran at the man in the black suit, slamming into him and knocking him over. The boy in the white shirt held the dagger threateningly over the man in the black suit’s neck, and the man in the black suit gasped for air as the boy in the white shirt’s weight pressed down on him. The man in the black suit reached for his cane, and with his left hand grappled the boy in the white shirt’s arm, holding the knife away from his neck. The boy in the white shirt finally pushed the man in the black suit’s hand away from his arm, and was about to kill the man in the black suit when the clicking of loaded guns interrupted him.
    “Freeze!” shouted the policeman. “Drop your weapon!”
    The boy in the white shirt dropped the knife and slowly stood up with his hands behind his head. The man in the black suit stood as well, gasping for air as he picked up his cane. The man in the black suit shuffled to the policeman and shook his hand.
    “You can take it from here. I’ll make sure he stays in max security for life. Killing his own parents in his own house,” The man in the black suit snarled. “What kind of sick b*****d would do that kind of thing?”