Ticking Tiger: Claws of Death
The still terror that resonated from their faces shamefully aroused my inside. I saw how they would cry out loud to their God who would not help them or sooth their guilt. Their sad tears mixed with their dark blood slowly escaped down their slit cheeks. I was at the peak of my selfish pride because I know all who fear me, must die.
One moonlit night, my fiancé and I decided to drink some of our favorite wine that soon followed a romantic end. So, as we passionately kissed up the staircase to the left which promised our beautiful antique-like master bedroom, I whispered to my love that she was the only woman for me and that I would soon marry her. We finally entered the room, my love is on the bed with her stunning new blue dress which is half way off that I bought for her on her birthday, I lay masculine on top of her with my bare chest and underwear, I kiss her soft elegant neck, she pulls me closer to her naked breast with her shiny scrumptious legs that wrapped around me, and we made love. Meanwhile, as the sexual tension is growing, we hear a boisterous but familiar sound that came from our downstairs dining room. I assumed immediately someone or something shattered a window. Then, I gently but quickly put my hand around my love’s mouth before she could let out a regretful noise. After that, I told her to stay still as she could so I could quietly confront the situation. Now, I walk the long stairs sweating fear but with mostly resentment. I listen to more glass being loudly broken and thrown about carelessly. Soon, I see the dining room light turn on then back off. I knew it was now that we were being unwelcomingly evaded by a burglar or some sort. Suddenly, all the racket in the dining room had ceased and only my heaving breathing remain. At this point, I take out a pistol that my father gave to me before he died in 1987 from colon cancer. My dad was a very charming, kind, devoted catholic, and extremely strong-minded. He was very smart and wise and had a unique understanding of physics. I miss him very much.
Bang!
I fearfully fire a bullet at a rather tall, well-fit Englishman dressed in what appeared to be all black assassin wear. The bullet unfortunately missed him and went through an old but valuable vase in which dated back to the early 1800s. The assassin amazingly threw a sliver colored but sharp bladed knife into my shoulder knocking me down instantly further along down the stairs onto the redefined marble floor. The assassin hurriedly skedaddled pass me as I lay on my back bleeding out, and up the stairs to my beloved love of my life. However, the gun I had also lay beside me enough to clutch and fire one more lazy shot at the assassin and, the bullet at last logged into his right leg making him stumble slightly, Unbelievably, the bullet was near the strength of the assassin to prevent his sinister intent. And so following, my head hurtfully lifts up to the assassin invisibly running up the stairs and, my only hope was that he turned to the right once he reached the tip of the staircase… Unhappily, he turned to the left and, I heard her slam the door but, the assassin made his way on in with a heavy military style kick to the designer door. I heard screams and cries of my love for me to come to her desperate rescue but, I was too weak. At a moment’s notice, I hear nothing at all except the cold silence that deepened my fully awakened curiosity. Suddenly, I then realized in that moment, in that departure, the love of my life was for sure dead. Overwhelming tears drowned in my pool of blood and became somewhat white noise as the assassin left the crime scene. Then, my eyes began to grow weighty and lastly closed. Unaware, I awaken to rough hands picking me up and putting me on a stretcher. I see flashing red and blue lights flooding the atmosphere, firefighters with eager looks on their faces, and our mansion encased in flames. In this circumstance, I in countless pain shout for my love but knowingly neither she nor anyone could hear my ghost cry. I shriek again and again and trying to move my deeply burned and bruised body but, the team of medics prevented my attempts with their unyielding force to my body as to push it back down on the stretcher so I didn’t fall off. I then gazed out at my far away neighbors and back at my once was mansion… The only thought that numbed my physical pain was is she, the one who I’m to marry, could she really be with the angels? In a short notice, my body collapsed onto the stretcher and, I fell asleep once more.
Now, I awaken to a dim lit room filled with boring white walls and a low sounded TV that hung out in front above me. I unleashed out a worried sigh and vigorously rubbed my bandaged forehead. After this, I kicked, I punched, and I amplified my voice that alarmed multiple nurses. They spiritedly encamped around me, tried to hug me down on the hospital bed with their exceedingly cold small soft smooth hands, and gave to me a shot that injected into me something that pushed me pass my free will to relax. In a meditative state, a doctor stands on the side of me with a concerned look on his face. I firmly take hold of his clothing and begged to see my love.
“Where-is-she? Where is my love?” I squealed.
” Is she dead? Answer me!” I tiredly hollered… “She’s gone. I’m so sorry.” The doctor patiently articulated.
