This happened for a month's time till September the second. That’s where things derailed.
Shaking off my umbrella I enter the building. Today was the first day it rained, Autumn letting themself in. Should have gone to Italy, I think as I’m unlocking my door.
Turning on the lights I take off my outdoor clothes and hang the key on a hook. When I am just about to enter the living room I get interrupted.
[Intruder Alert!]
[Initiating ATP “Accelerated Thought Process”]
Time slowed but the mind didn’t.
Someone is in my apartment, somewhere. There, on the table, on my ashtray lay a newly lit cigarette. Not very smart oh no they’re not. The brand is something only a man would buy, not a woman.
It’s quiet. Not a burglary. An attack? Have they found me? Who are they? The organization is dead!
The man is waiting beside the door frame, on standby. I guess he will try to knock me down.
Go normal, now!
Taking a breath. One, two, three and four. Four steps. And a blow to my head.
Meeting the floor. I look up and above me stands a man in a black robber mask. “You look so nice.”, he says.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Per-Albert Fredriksson! I know that it is you below that mask”, I wail, “you sick fuck!”
A kick to the stomach. I howl.
“Well shit!” Taking off his mask. “I guess I have to kill you then.”
Laughing like the fucking creep he was.
“I’ve had my eyes on you ever since you moved in … wanting to fuck you soO MUCH!”
What the hell. This fucking guy. He knows it’s risky but still he chooses to do this.
Leaning down he says: “There is no going back now. I’ve hidden all the kitchen knives. Nothing is stopping this.”
Shoving down his pants and reaching for my hands for him to restrain.
“You will enjoy this. I am good at it.”
Rage crossed through my body. Clouding my mind.
Throwing my legs behind his, taking away his balance.
Landing hard on his back.
“How…?!”
Standing up. Head healed. Everything healed.
Taking a hold of his neck, lifting his heavy fat assed body with my right hand. A confusing gaze came from the landlord. Throwing him, before I realize my mistake, through the glass balcony door, over the railing.
A crash sounded through the whole area. A scream from a passerby.
Programed survival instinct? Human mind?
I’d say it’s a combination of both.
I would have killed the bastard sooner or later, but not in such an extravagant manner like I did just now. “Shit! Fuck! Motherfucker!”
I am not really fond of swearing but regarding the fact that I’m Swedish and of course the situation it’s very hard to resist.
Sirens in the distance, his cigarette went off. Totally wasted.
________________
****************
Apparently a man living below me with his wife was a policeman, with a modest high ranking. When Fredriksson kissed the ground he told her to phone in and he, with gun in hand and police-vet experienced mindset, took to the stairs and was in my livingroom by the end of the minute after that fucker’s last breath, breaking down the door on the way.
He saw a shocked bruised woman sitting on the sofa. Seeing the crashed window he pointed his gun at me and said in a calm steady voice: “Police! Don’t move!”
Not being entirely bulletproof I abided. He looked at me, then at the balcony, at the crashed glass door then back to me. “What happened?”
I raise my eyebrows. Wasn’t it obvious. “I think … no, no … I’m sure he tried to rape me.”
The reinforcement arrived in three patrol cars. They blocked off the crime scene.
No more peace.