Writing Prompts

The Phone Rings.

     Sitting at his desk, hard at work on his computer. His favorite show playing in the back ground while he worked. He was content with his life, happy to spend his days in peace working from home. Getting to spend his days working just feet from his loving wife and beautiful children. With a smile he leaned back in his chair, taking the last sip of his beer, he decided it was about time to clock off for the night. The kids were in bed, and his wife fast asleep in there's.

     Life was good, dare he say perfect. They weren't necessarily a rich family. Their house wasn't much to marvel out, blending in with the other older houses on their block. The family car wasn't new by any means but it was for them. He had a job that he loved, though it did take up a lot of hours. Their home was filled with love and joy. In all his wildest dreams he'd never seen this in his future. His life had never hinted at something so wonderful, so beautiful.

     While he computer shut down he sat there in the relative dark of the room. Smiling up at the ceiling as he thought about his families plans for the following day. It was then that he heard his phone began to ring. Odd, he thought, it was quite late. However he had many colleagues around the country. All who worked the same strange hours he did. Reaching over he picked his phone up, only to find that the screen was dark. It wasn't the phone ringing. Hikding the phone in hand he pressed the answer key and placed the phone to his ear.

"We need you again" was all the electronic voice said before the line went dead.

     Picking his head out the small dens door the ringing faded away. Panic washed over him as he realized where the ringing was coming from. With hesitent steps he backed into the room, locking the door to the den. Standing in front of the painting hanging on the wall he listened to the constant ring. Slowly he reached out, his fingers finding the hidden switch with ease. Turning the switch he heard the faint metallic click of latches unlocking.

     Hesitantly he pulled the painting back, revealing the old safe built into the wall. A safe he hadn't laid eyes on in many years. A safe he'd hoped to never open again. Sliding the cover away from the scanner he leaned down, placing his chin on the rest. The scanner turned on immediately scanning his eye. Pulling his head back the safes tumblers fell into place, the heavy doors locks retracting. With a shaking hand he pulled on the handle, the door opening with ease. There sitting on the middle shelf, was the old phone he'd been given. The screen displaying only one word, blocked.

"We need you again" was all the electronic voice said before the line went dead.

     Crumpling into his seat, his arms hanging at his side. He started at the safe, listening to the ringing of the dead phone line. It was happening. His worst fear had become his reality. There was nothing he could do to stop it now. The gears we're already moving and it wouldn't be long before he was left with no choice. With determination in his eyes he got to his feet. He had to gather his gear and be on his way before they came to get him. Otherwise, well he didn't want to think about that.

     Placing one end of the phone in each hand he snapped it. The phone was a relic, no use to anyone anymore thanks to the age of the smartphone. However it was more than that, it was protocol. Taking the battery and what passed as a Sim card out he stuffed them into his pocket. From the bottom shelf of the safe he grabbed the bug out bag. The same bag he'd used throughout his entire career. A bag he'd never planned to use again. From the top shelf he grabbed the shoulder holster rig he wore. Sliding the extra clips into place, he held his service pistol in hand. It'd been years sense the last time he'd held a firearm. Hell it'd been years sense the last time he'd touched any type of weaponry.