This is my new version of the Little Terrorist Prologue.
Prologue
The night was silent and nothing stirred. The silence to was too quiet, and in a way it was disturbing. You always tend to hear some kind of noise when you’re out and about. But the quietness was beyond imagination.
Mrs Price sat in her flowery chair watching Songs of Praise on her 1960s TV set.
“Your body broken on the tree, the blood you shed to set us free…” she chorused.
She was singing the next part of the song when there was a knock at her door. Mrs Price sighed. “Who on Earth could that be at this hour?” She heaved herself out of her chair and walked into the hallway towards the front door. There was another knock, but this time it was more like a bang.
“Just wait a minute, dear. I’ll be there.” Mrs Price said with a sweet granny tone in her voice.
She took the chain off and turned the key and opened the door. There was a small ‘Pss’ sound and Mrs Price tumbled down onto the floor. A sixteen year old boy in a black leather motorbike suit stood in the doorway, holding a silenced handgun in his hand.
“Move in,” he said, and several teenagers in black Kevlar body armour stormed in, carrying L85 Assault rifles. They were wearing black gas masks and had two pistols in their belts each.
The teenager in the leather suit walked into the hallway. “Raid the place, burn anything that’s shite in the back garden. Keep any cash and anything that looks more than fifty quid. Then radio HQ to tell us that we have control of the house and say to send more units to take over the village. The SPS don’t stand a chance.” And at that moment, the boy a large evil grin on his face and then started to shoot the dead body of Mrs Price.
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