I.N.S.E.C.T: A.C.E Division

A plot with pretzel-like twists, hopefully you'll like it... if you actually read it... and if you've no allergy to pretzels...
And by the way, i know that 11 chapters might seem a long read, but they are not very long! Plus, if people are actually interested in it (big ask, i know) then i'll publish the remaining chapters


3. OFSTED and the scarecrow

The bell rang and the entire college erupted. The students- and, indeed, the teachers- muttered a collective sigh as the impending weekend finally approached. It had been a long week. The OFSTED inspectors had started it off, perusing through the school and reducing the teachers to sweaty mounds of skin and bones. The rest of the week was engulfed in examination preparation, almost more tiresome than the exams themselves. I had been lucky. My exams didn’t start for another two weeks. Even so, the week had been a hectic one; it was nice to have a rest. I met up with my friends briefly while walking home, before veering off to walk through a field-although a nice shortcut in the summer, in about three months time I would regret taking it. There was a small potato plantation on the far side of the field, so I was able to walk along the edge of the field without trampling on anything. I struggled through the field, as the grass had grown to my waist, slowly swaying in the slight breeze. The metallic smell of petrol invaded my senses, wafting from a large tractor driving in an adjacent field. A group of birds circled in the sky, lightly chirruping. Suddenly the weight of my bag seemed irrelevant: it was a pleasant day, the weekend was ahead, and I had no exams for a week. Things were going well. If only I knew. I slowly sauntered through the field, taking in the sights, the smells, the glorious weather. I had walked halfway across, when I spotted something protruding from out of the grass. It was tall, and wore tattered jeans, the remnants of what looked like a red shirt, and a straw hat. The face was made of some sort of brown material, possibly polyester, with lopsided button features. It was a scarecrow. Although I could not remember there being a scarecrow, I figured it was about time. The potato plantation was usually inhabited by birds, so the scarecrow was a welcome addition. I walked past it, whistling the tune to whatever song was stuck in my head that day. That’s when it happened. I had walked a few steps, when I heard a rustling behind me, like something had moved very quickly through the long grass. I turned, expecting a small fieldmouse, and saw the most terrifying sight of my life. The scarecrow was running towards me. An actual scarecrow. Running. At me. My heart packed its suitcase and left when I saw what it was clutching in its hand. A gun. I immediately turned back to run, but it was no use. I couldn’t outrun it, especially with my heavy bag… my heavy bag.

My heavy bag. Suddenly a plan formed in my mind. The scarecrow quickly ran up to me. I feigned fear, and put my hands up in surrender, cowering slightly. The scarecrow carried on up to me, and raised its gun. It was now or never. I swung the bag over my shoulder with all my strength, and threw it at the scarecrow. It soared through the air, and landed a painful blow to the scarecrow’s midriff, the zip cutting it along its shoulder. It collapsed in pain, clearly winded. I seized the opportunity. Quickly, I scooped up the bag and sprinted away, not once looking behind. The end of the field was in sight, large bushes jutting out of the grass. I would jump over the bushes, which led to a small path, which then led to a small village. I would be safe… the scarecrow wouldn’t get me… But then it was behind me. The speed of it was incredible, its legs moving rapidly, its arms driving it forward. Again, it raised the gun, as I desperately swung my bag over, but before I could protect myself, it pulled the trigger. A small object flew through the air, and embedded itself in my right shoulder. It was made of some sort of brushed metal, and contained a luminescent green liquid, which I realised- too late- was quickly depleting. The vivid field colours seemed to run into each other, and I realised that I had broken into a cold sweat. Then, everything became a blur… And then went black.

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