“That neighbor keeps staring at me through the window!” said Frank. Ill-tempered from the news he had received earlier in the day.
"What's going on, dear?" asked Dorris. A perplexed look crossed her face as she hurried out the kitchen spoon in hand.
“I swear I see the neighbor peeking through the window over there!”
"I think your eyes are playing tricks on you, dear; I am looking out the window now, and I don't see a thing."
"Woman! Are you calling me a liar?" said Frank. His nostrils flaring up from the suppressed anger he felt.
“Now I know you’ve had a rough day today, but I fear your being paranoid, dear," said Dorris. Calmly walking back into the kitchen to finish washing the dishes.
Frank had just lost his job on his day off, and he was still fuming from the news he had received. He knew they would be okay because his wife Dorris was from a well-off family, but again, it was the principal of the matter. Frank just couldn't fathom why he had been fired in the first place. He worked hard and made sure to always get to work on time and was the last one to leave.
“I’ve made up my mind! I’m going over there to give them a piece of my mind!” said Frank. Grabbing his New York Yankees hat and slamming it on his head as he hurried out the front door. Frank crossed the lawn in a jog like fashion and hit the pavement with a light thudding sound.
“Oh, I’m going to rip them a new one. You just wait and see!” said Frank. He hurried over to the other side of the pavement. Hushed voices were coming from the house’s direction; a sense of foreboding started to linger in the back of Frank's mind. Frank began to creep toward the house, careful not to make a sound for fear of being caught. There were bushes the size of semi-trucks near the windows so he couldn't quite peek through. He started to ease himself towards the porch.
Gnarled branches lay across the porch as if a witch had placed a spell upon them. Wrapping themselves around the porch banister like a claw from a mountain lion. The boards creaked on the porch when you walked on them. When you got to the door, it had a moss-like look as if the door itself was decaying in the fading light of the sunset. With the silence of a mouse, Frank eased open the door, just a crack.
Frank let out a blood-curdling scream. There on the parlor floor lay his neighbor. His head had been bashed in, and bits of blood and bone lay scattered on the carpet. Frank was overcome by the rancid odor of death. He coughed and wretched as he flung himself from the door, fear clutching at his heart. Quick as a flash, a hand darted out of the door, grabbing Frank as he was reeling away.
“Help! Somebody help me!” yelled Frank. Frantically clawing at the door frame like a wild beast. The taste of blood-filled Frank’s mouth as he struggled to get away from his captors. It was sour and sweet at the same time, having been mixed with bits of left-over food that was still in his mouth. The captors threw Frank into a corner and proceeded to tie him up.
"Look, it here we have us a little spy, don't we Braun?" said Lucian.
"No, Lucian, we have us another dead man!” said Braun.
“Touché, well, how would you like to kill this one?”
“I think a knife to the heart would do nicely.”
“Or we could slit his wrists and leave him tied up nicely in the bathtub.”
"mmhm," said Frank. His blood ran cold as he realized he was a dead man. Thoughts started rushing through his head as his life neared the end of its cycle. Pleading on the floor with the gag in his mouth Frank lay there thrashing about.
"Braun, you do the honors on this one here. I killed the other guy," said Lucian.
"Don't mind if I do!" said Braun. A vicious grin appeared on his face as he dragged Frank into the bathroom. With two bold strokes, he cut Frank's wrist and threw him into the tub. Warmblood dripping down his arms, painting the white pearl tub a viscous ruby red. As Frank lay dying, all thoughts gone about being fired from his job. His wife was a distant memory, and so was his life. Police sirens whirring in the background as Franks hearing slowly drifts away.