The Psychotic Cheesy Sock

Chapter 3 : The Heist

"Right then, I'll call the laboratory and tell them the bad news." said Wurrinin, attempting to pull a confident face. The sock sneered at him, waiting to make his move. Wurrinun had fumbled out his phone and was walking across the street.
"Nows my chance" thought the sock as he used his camouflage to weave through the dandylions and weeds. The detectives still stood on the scene, eager to upturn the garden for clues. Conscious of the trail he might have left, he pulled out from the ground a small thread, just behind the thorny red plant. Giving it a strong pull a twig was moved and a small rock (or large boulder in his circumstance) gave way, hopefully crushing the remains of his small muddy hideout. "Without further a due" he cued himself "time to get some brains"

Smearing some more mud on his face, he lined himself up to make a sprint across the road. Wurrinun had made it to the house while the sock was hiding the evidence.
"Very clever" assumed the concealed sock, readying himself. He glanced from detective to detective. Three of them, if his maths were correct. Finally overlooking the house that was both his hell and home. Upon realising he had looked at the house for an unusually long time, he shook any moral thoughts out of his head and ran for his life.

He sprinted to the recycling bin that was sitting on the curb on the road. The searing light of the Sumer sun burned his head and dried the mud. He forgot to factor the heat and was paying for it by hopping over the boiling concrete slabs. Finishing on a perfectly executed forward roll into the shade. He panted heavily. "Should have stretched first" he said to himself. He tried to chuckle but ended up doubling over coughing. After gaining some self control he examined himself, much to his horror, his mud was flaking off because if the combination of running and drying. He sighed angrily. Annoyed at stupidity but accepting it was his mistake. Leaning against the side of the bin he closed his eyes. Trying to disguise the pain he was in.

"There's nothing here" said the bald detective.
"It's weird that the weapon is a sock right? Or is it just me?" said the young apprentice.
"Look you have to deal with a lot of crazy stuff on this job, but to be honest, this is the craziest thing I've ever seen. I'm calling it a day, close off the scene for me will you?" he pulled out a small handkerchief ad wiped his forehead, walking off towards another jet black car. The kid stood watching him leave, feeling slightly self conscious and didn't want to start till he had gone. With a friendly salute from within the car the bald man was whisked away. The boy let a sigh of relief slip from his lips. He hopped over to the equipment box on the edge of the street, although he slowed down on seeing a small trail if dried mud on the pavement leading up to the recycling bin. He stood in half skip looking at the bin. The sun still beating onto the the street. The insects still buzzing around. His heart skipped a beat with the possibility that behind that bin could be.
"No" he said quietly to himself, crouching gently towards the bin. His head aching from over thinking, detective work was long. He wanted to retire, but he knew he had to stay and learn. He was on his knees next to the bin now. Baldy, or Detective Baldrick, was apparently the best detective. He didn't know how or why, but had to stay with him. To be able to embark on his own journey. To fulfil his duty. To work out who had murdered his parents.

He grabbed the bin and threw it up in the air. The trail had ended.

The sock, stuck onto part of the bin, was whipped into the air. The sun blinding his eyes and his inside were literally coming out. He felt sick, weak and devastated and he hadn't envisaged his death like this. The sock opened his eyes. A blur or colours, he felt even worse. The Sockren race was depending on him and he let them down. He couldn't wait to meet his people, his family, his brother. He gulped, closed his tear filled eyes and braced himself.

"Ow my back" the German sock said wearily. His eyes still closed, he brushed his hands against the soft floor he lay on. Upon opening his heavy eyes he realised he had landed on the weed infested front garden of none other than Mr Wurrinun. It was nearing night time. The sock, grateful of its existence, pulled itself forward towards the huge door. Every thread in his body was telling him to give up, but after having a glimpse into the next life he saw he had no time to waste. He would go there, grab the socks, bring them back and make no mistakes. Grabbing a tuft of grass he propelled himself forward. The pain fuelled his desire to achieve. He looked at a ladybird, which opened it's shell and wings and took off. There was a strong fire inside on the sock now. He pushed himself up onto his feet and stumbled closer and closer towards to door. It was hurting him to keep his eyes open, because of this he tripped over a twig. Face first into the floor. He took this second to think of the Smiths, the dirt, Mr Wurrinun, his brother, whatever flipped him into the air. It filled his empty soul with rage. He picked himself up for a second time to ran right up to the great oak door, sliding under the narrow gap in one swift move. He was in. He had been revived, he had been given a second chance.

"And this time I won't waste it..."

Wow erm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! I'm really finding this fun, almost better than temple run :D thank you Lolrayhashersay it was because of you I kinda got down to doing this :) Hope you all enjoyed!!