Here’s another (silly) one from my deep dark (early) youth. I may need to start carbon dating the paper to identify the year in which my stories were written…
More old stories here.
The Collector flitted invisibly from deep shadow to shadow. His stealthy movements did little to disturb the other dark inhabitants of this nether region. He paused to consider his mission entrusted to him a few short moments ago by the evil Dark Master, The Collector knew that the Dark Master drove his servants harder than was necessary, but the Collector had known no other existence. He had been taught by the Dark Master to carry out the never-ending battle against the Horrible Filth that regularly invaded the Dark Master’s domain.
He continued haltingly done the narrow lane of fate, knowing that there would be no turning back until he fulfilled his dark destiny and, only then, could he return to the Dark Master waiting for him in the rover. At last, his goal was in sight. He pressed against a wall — retreating into the black recesses — keeping a darting eye out for any intruders.
There! He caught a glimpse of a Silent One, a clear minion of the opposing force. The Silent One turned toward him. He knows! The Collector knew what must be done to protect his mission. He moved toward the Silent One…
The Collector was halted by a voice. Some message from the Dark Master:
“What the fuck are you doing? Leave that rat alone and get the garbage, will ya?”
The Collector grabbed the trashcans and moved steadily back up the alley.