The Bourne Ressurection
folder
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,171
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,171
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Truth And Lies
well this is based off of the "Bourne" trilogy by robert ludlum, they changed "the bourne identity" so if youve only seen the movie and find something wrong thats why .
The Bourne Ressurection
Jaycen Dark
Chapter 1:Truth and Lies
David’s arm snapped out at my face, I side stepped the blow grabbing the out flung arm with my left hand ,with my right I stepped behind him and hit him in the back of the neck with my forearm, my father went down hitting the mat hard, he hopped up immediately still in excellent shape at his 65 years of age if he was but 10 years younger that move would have never succeeded ,by the way my name is Shawn Webb I sit here in this god forsaken cabin writing this out to try and justify myself to whomever may find this , should I die I want the truth known.
I was a late child my mother had me very late in life so late she almost died from complications ,the karate lessons had started when I was 5 the shooting lessons started when I was 11 my father seemed so much like a different man when he was teaching me how to fight ,how to kill I remember one of my early questions to him had been,
“why do I need to learn this father “ he would always give me a variation on the same answer
“if you ever need these skills you’ll know ...”,it was chilling how much I looked like him ,looking at him now it was like a view into the future ,except my eyes were blue “well I better be heading off gotta get back to the campus” I said .
I was attending the collage my dad used to teach at ,he had retired the previous year ,So that fateful day started off like any other, classes were boring, professors took a perverse pleasure in assigning impossible amounts of homework after school I drove home along the breach, Maine was really beautiful I suppose but I had grown up here so I was not as awed as the tourists were , I pulled my car into the garage ,the front door to the house was open , was this another one of dads tests, I knew the answer was no when the black helicopter rose from the back yard, and machine gun fire ripped at the ground an inch or so from my foot, I ran in a random zig zag pattern for the house, I guess they either got bored or gave up with a mission accomplished.
I soon found out , my mother Marie Webb laid on the kitchen floor here neck was cut but not deep, I noted her slightly bulging eyes witch indicated strangulation ,I reached down to close her eyes just a blue as mine with tears in my eyes, I crept up stairs hurriedly looking for signs of my father, I found him ...he was shot in the head, brains visible in the skull ...I thought he was dead before his arm fling out to pull open the bottom drawer of the desk, “Medusa ...Bourne ...” he muttered then had a violent seizer it witch he grabbed his skull when he stopped failing I checked for a pulse ,there was none ,I sat next to my fathers body and hugging my knees and cried ,I only cried for a short while but then I moved mechanically and tried to think , the man in the helicopter was dressed in all black ,and he carried an —16, witch would indicate military ,witch meant the government, my father had severely distrusted the government when ever I asked he usually said “because they are lairs!” but one time he looked at me very seriously his voice full of hatred he mutterd something about being used.
I looked in the bottom drawer the normal things one could expect to find paper, a box of paper clips, a stapler ,a letter opener ,and a small box of matches I took each of the items out ,why had my father opened the drawer was it some delirious spasm ? , I then noted scrape marks on the inside of the drawer afer a minute or to of inspection I discovered the bottom was false , hidden in the small compartment was an old notebook , thousand sheets, collage ruled the front of it indicated , and a small black journal and a key , I examined the key, it looked simple like an old door key , I pocketed it , I had to do something about my parents the thought made my eyes burn with tears, who ever did this was going to pay , pay with there lives....
I had left my parents bodies in the rooms they died and sat in my parents bed room with a coke sipping it and looking through the note book , it seemed to be filled with memories odd thoughts, scenes my father had seen played out in his dreams ,the journal however was very different , according to this book my father had not met my mother in a skiing trip to Canada as I was told , ...I read far into the night learning of my family’s true past .....then i slept the sleep of the dead ..
The Bourne Ressurection
Jaycen Dark
Chapter 1:Truth and Lies
David’s arm snapped out at my face, I side stepped the blow grabbing the out flung arm with my left hand ,with my right I stepped behind him and hit him in the back of the neck with my forearm, my father went down hitting the mat hard, he hopped up immediately still in excellent shape at his 65 years of age if he was but 10 years younger that move would have never succeeded ,by the way my name is Shawn Webb I sit here in this god forsaken cabin writing this out to try and justify myself to whomever may find this , should I die I want the truth known.
I was a late child my mother had me very late in life so late she almost died from complications ,the karate lessons had started when I was 5 the shooting lessons started when I was 11 my father seemed so much like a different man when he was teaching me how to fight ,how to kill I remember one of my early questions to him had been,
“why do I need to learn this father “ he would always give me a variation on the same answer
“if you ever need these skills you’ll know ...”,it was chilling how much I looked like him ,looking at him now it was like a view into the future ,except my eyes were blue “well I better be heading off gotta get back to the campus” I said .
I was attending the collage my dad used to teach at ,he had retired the previous year ,So that fateful day started off like any other, classes were boring, professors took a perverse pleasure in assigning impossible amounts of homework after school I drove home along the breach, Maine was really beautiful I suppose but I had grown up here so I was not as awed as the tourists were , I pulled my car into the garage ,the front door to the house was open , was this another one of dads tests, I knew the answer was no when the black helicopter rose from the back yard, and machine gun fire ripped at the ground an inch or so from my foot, I ran in a random zig zag pattern for the house, I guess they either got bored or gave up with a mission accomplished.
I soon found out , my mother Marie Webb laid on the kitchen floor here neck was cut but not deep, I noted her slightly bulging eyes witch indicated strangulation ,I reached down to close her eyes just a blue as mine with tears in my eyes, I crept up stairs hurriedly looking for signs of my father, I found him ...he was shot in the head, brains visible in the skull ...I thought he was dead before his arm fling out to pull open the bottom drawer of the desk, “Medusa ...Bourne ...” he muttered then had a violent seizer it witch he grabbed his skull when he stopped failing I checked for a pulse ,there was none ,I sat next to my fathers body and hugging my knees and cried ,I only cried for a short while but then I moved mechanically and tried to think , the man in the helicopter was dressed in all black ,and he carried an —16, witch would indicate military ,witch meant the government, my father had severely distrusted the government when ever I asked he usually said “because they are lairs!” but one time he looked at me very seriously his voice full of hatred he mutterd something about being used.
I looked in the bottom drawer the normal things one could expect to find paper, a box of paper clips, a stapler ,a letter opener ,and a small box of matches I took each of the items out ,why had my father opened the drawer was it some delirious spasm ? , I then noted scrape marks on the inside of the drawer afer a minute or to of inspection I discovered the bottom was false , hidden in the small compartment was an old notebook , thousand sheets, collage ruled the front of it indicated , and a small black journal and a key , I examined the key, it looked simple like an old door key , I pocketed it , I had to do something about my parents the thought made my eyes burn with tears, who ever did this was going to pay , pay with there lives....
I had left my parents bodies in the rooms they died and sat in my parents bed room with a coke sipping it and looking through the note book , it seemed to be filled with memories odd thoughts, scenes my father had seen played out in his dreams ,the journal however was very different , according to this book my father had not met my mother in a skiing trip to Canada as I was told , ...I read far into the night learning of my family’s true past .....then i slept the sleep of the dead ..