Joshua Cressman

This is the first thing I ever wrote featuring the heroic Joshua Cressman. Don't worry: it's a dream. He's not really dead. ;) There are no paragraphs because I transferred it from notebook to computer really, really quickly.

Rain poured from the night sky, droplets pattering on Joshua Cressman’s black leather longcoat on their way to the ground. His hair was flat, black, and matted from the rain. Water collected on his eyebrows, ran down his face in small rivers. Intelligent blue eyes scanned the area as he walked up the street of the city. Black boots scattered the water, sending droplets flying with every step. Suddenly Joshua became aware of something behind him. He spun around to see a man in a bloodred business suit walking towards him. His light red hair was slicked back; a friendly smile was framed by a neatly trimmed goatee of a red-gold color slightly lighter than the hair on his head. His eyes were much like Joshua’s: a light, crystal blue, amicable and bright. Strangely, he seemed completely dry despite the heavy rain. His arms were spread in front of him, friendly, welcoming, non-threateningly. Joshua frowned, confused; he knew his enemy was here somewhere, but he saw only this man. He looked straight into the man’s eyes, searching. There! Behind the outward appearance one could see the man’s true self in his eyes. It flickered continuously, like a spiteful flame. Hatred, malice, and hostility lurked just out of sight. Joshua’s frown turned into a smile. The man in red had been advancing on him the whole time and was almost within arm’s length. In one fluid motion, Joshua threw open his coat, drew a long knife, and leapt at the man in red. The man dropped his façade, his face hardening into a scowl as he sidestepped Joshua’s weapon while drawing his own: An impossibly large handgun emerged from the red stranger’s suit coat. Joshua dove for the ground, madly trying to put distance between the gun and his body. The stranger fired three shots; Joshua hit the ground rolling. One of the bullets clipped Joshua’s shoulder, slicing through his leather coat and causing him to wince in pain. Still moving, Joshua twisted and ducked to avoid two more shots from the man in red before once more reaching into his coat. With his other hand, Joshua grabbed a throwing knife and hurled it at the man in red while tightening his grip on the knife and running past the man, intending to cut from the side. The red man shot the knife out of the air. Just as Joshua’s blade was about to make contact with the stranger, the barrel of the gun knocked it aside, sending a shockwave up Joshua’s arm and causing the cut on his shoulder to throb with pain. Joshua spun, ready to face the man, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. When he looked up, however, he was staring straight down the barrel of the red man’s gun. The man in red’s scowl had turned into a maniacal, evil grin.
“Say hello to the Devil for me, lad.”
I mustn’t be afraid.