The soft melodic chime of the doorbell bounces around the dark house. Like a courier, it carries its message throughout every nook and cranny.

Yet despite its best efforts the chime softly slips unto the darkness failing to find any recipient. Silence creeps over the house again, the buzzing of the night air resuming its gentle symphony. A short-lived performance swiftly ended by the clacking of the doorknob.

As though brought to life the handle jiggles slightly only to be held back by the latch. Unable to open itself, the handle grows still seemingly giving up on the futility of opening.

Silence barely has time to settle in before the crashing of glass fills the room. Glass flows out from behind a curtain just beside the front door. Sliding across the floor in every direction.

Following the glass, the frame of a man forces his way through the curtain and into the room. The broken glass munches on his shoes as he untangles himself from the curtain. His arms poking out from underneath the curtain grasping for some kind of purchase.

Not caring to keep quiet the man grunts as he emerges for the curtain patting his clothes down. Like a blind man, he fumbles around the room looking for any kind of light.

With a snap light fills the room in an instant revealing the surroundings. While it doesn’t fill the entire room it allows enough light for one to traverse the room without slamming into furniture.

The man, now visible, wears a grey single-breasted suit that sits poorly upon his lumpy body. A bleached shirt and hastily done-up tie fail to complement his attire. A mop of dirty blonde hair sits messily upon his unshaven face.

His round face is covered with scars that make it appear as though his face at some point was taken apart and hastily put back together. At some point in time, he might have been rather good-looking, but time has been less than kind to him.

The man glances around the room spinning slightly on the glass in order to fully take in the room.

In truth it’s hard to call it a room as most of the house sits before him. It’s as though someone decided to make a house lacking any type of walls. Only putting in a few side rooms to provide a modicum of privacy.

The room is fully furnished with a modern style living room consisting of an oversized couch and a TV seemingly bigger than the man himself. At the far end of the room sits an open kitchen and island laiden with pots and pans.

Next to the kitchen is a dinning table made of completely natural wood that appears as though it could fit a dozen people comfortably.

The man’s eyes don’t take long to find their target, a large silver with two doors. Its frame lies just outside of the range of the light shrouding it in darkness.

Destination set the practically lunges over the couch as he bee lines towards the fridge. With a jerk, the silver doors swing open bathing the man in white light. However that is all the fridge gives off. Rather than a cornucopia of food the fridge is practically barren.

Besides a few bottles of juice, yogurt, and vegetables the fridge is completely empty. The man’s face is quickly dragged down by his disappointment. Slowly the man closes the fridge, as if hoping he will find something before the doors close. Yet the doors close with a click leaving the man to wallow in darkness.

“What are you doing?”

The flat voice of a man floats out from the middle of the room. The man gives no overt reaction to the sudden question, as if expecting it.

“Tell me, who doesn’t keep their fridge stocked with food?”

The man retorts with an annoyed voice as he turns around to face the man. The man appears to have emerged from one of the side rooms.

Unlike the other this man is more casually dressed. A pair dark jeans and a black jacket cover most of his body leaving only his hands exposed.

His face is blocked by a white mask that covers the entirety of his face. The mask is formed in the shape of a man with rather high cheek bones. His faical structure might lead one to believe that it should be smiling yet the mask has a straight face.

The man in the mask leans against the doorframe he just walked out of his arms hang limply at his sides. With the dark room behind him it almost looks as though the white mask is floating in the air.

Yet despite the man’s strange appearance the other man looks as though he’s talking to an old friend.

“How about you start by telling me what you’re doing here Tom?”

The man in the mask says, his voice low and even lacking any kind of emotion. The man named Tom shrugs his shoulders at the response letting out an over the top sigh.

“Boss needs to see you. Said something along the lines of get Vinny to me ASAP!”

Tom excentuates his statement by throwing his arms in the air like a showman, strutting over to the dining table to take a seat. Flipping a chair around he plops into the pushing back so as to force front legs into the air. Propping a foot against the table he wobbles back and forth, pulling back just before tipping over.

“If boss wanted to talk to me why wouldn't he just contact me himself?”

His voice is laced with skepticism like a teacher trying why their student didn’t do the homework.

“Who knows?”

Tom says sheepishly as he looks around the room for something to hold his interest.

“I’m just doing what the boss tells me. Kinda hard to say no to that man.”

Looking to his left Vinny eyes the broken glass on the ground from behind his mask. Tom eyes him curiously as if waiting for some kind of response.

“You know if you just answered the door I wouldn’t have to do that.”

Vinny ignores Tom’s statement instead choosing to walk over and inspect the window.

Tom cranes his neck as if to find a crack in Vinny's mask. To see some kind of emotion from behind the mask. However it does it’s job well of hiding it’s owners face and denies Tom any kind of show.

Tom continues to watch Vinny for a while before hanging his head with a sigh. Something that lasts only for a few seconds, as though his head is on a magnet it gets dragged around the room not stopping in any direction for more than a few seconds.

Suddenly his head snaps still just slightly to the right as though he were frozen in time. His pudgy little eyes narrow as they target something across the room.

With a loud clack, the front legs of the chairs slam the ground as Tom gets to his feet. The sudden sound attracts Vinny’s attention turning his head away from the window to watch scene unfold.

As though on a track track makes his way across the room. Arriving at the far end of the room Tom stops just short of a small wooden end table.

Perched upon it are some unopened letters, a hat, and two sets of car keys. Overall a fairly normal end table one would use to set things down as they walked through the front door.

Nestled on the corner of the table is a small black picture frame home to a single sidelong picture. The picture itself is of a middle aged man and women embracing, due to their stance it’s hard to make out the faces or any discernible features .

Picking up the frame with a crusty hand Tom brings it close to his face so as to get a better view. His fingers leave greasy marks as he turns it around in his hands.

“Well isn’t that just a lovely photograph?”

He says cloyingly more so to himself than Vinny. With a lick of his lips, his face contorts into a deep smile, one a grandfather might make upon seeing his grandchildren for the first time. Yet his face lakes any sense of care or love.

With a soft touch, he places the frame back down on the table before staring back at Vinny with the same smile.

“You know I always love looking at those kinds of photographs. The ones where people are with those they love the most. I just find them so interesting. Gives me a weird feeling they do, something no other photo does. Can’t really explain it it’s just something I know exists but can’t really into words, you know what I mean?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Vinny stares at the Tom's smirking grin. His smile is spreading so far that the scars on his face are in danger of opening again.

“You told what you came here to say. No reason for you to stay any longer, should probably make yourself scarce.”

The smile doesn’t fade from Tom’s face, instead, it seems to grow even wider at Vinny's response.

“No need to be so cold Vin. It was a long drive out here, and you want me to just up and leave no sooner than I get here?”

“Yeah.”

Vinny’s response is short and to the point. A signal to anyone with a modicum of conversational skill that their talk is over. The pair stare in silence at each other for a moment, neither wanting to be the one to talk first.

“Fine."

Tom exclaims as he throws his hand into the air.

"I can take a hint you know.”

The smile falls off Tom’s face as he saunters over to the door. Like an overzealous actor, he twists and sways pretending to be deeply wounded by Vinny's words. Vinny watches on silently.

Even with a mask on one can easily guess the emotion underneath. Just as he puts a hand on the front door he pauses as though thinking on whether he has all his belongings. Without taking his hand off the knob he twists his head to stare at Vinny.

“Before I leave I gotta ask. How did it feel to kill her?”

His face remains emotionless almost like a friend asking when they want to meet up the next day.

Vinny’s reaction is small, no more than a slight uptilt of the face. Yet it was more than enough for Tom to catch it. A smile forms around his face displaying his corn yellow teeth to the room.

“wait don't answer that. I can imagine it right now. A ravenous animal tearing into the first meal it’s had in days. No care for grace or any of that bullshit. All that matters is the taste of that sweet sweetmeat. Well I hope you enjoyed her to your hearts content, I know I would.”

As he talks his tongue runs slowly over his lips, before tunneling back into his mouth. Vinny remains motionless yet the sound of his breathing starts to seep out from under the mask. His fists slowly curl up into thick balls, shaking ever so slightly at his sides.

“I'll leave you to enjoy yourself.”

Not waiting for a response Tom throws the door open allowing the cold night to flow in. With a wave of the hand, he disappears into the night. The soft click of the lock signals the closure of the door, leaving Vinny by himself.

Standing in silence for a while Vinny listens to his breath coming out slow and raged from under the mask. His face turns over to picture frame sat on the end table. With the cracking of glass under his feet he makes his way over to the picture.

Like Tom he gently picks up the frame brining it closer to his face. His mask betrays no emotion as though he were staring at nothing more than a blank canvas. Taking his fill of the picture his hand falls limply to his side along with the picture frame.

He looks around the room before staring down at the picture hanging limply at his waist. With a sigh he puts the frame picture down on the table. His fingers linger for a second before he drags them away.

With a flick of the switch the house is plunged into darkness once again. Along with the light Vinny disappears into the darkness of the house. Leaving nothing but the wind coming in through the window to keep the house company