Somebody had told truth, perhaps his step mother (who was called Kimberly Woods Hansen, as far as he could remember) that it hurts when something is gone. The chunks of glasses were now gone from his body and now he thought it would have been a lot better if he hadn’t been plucking them out for the whole night.
He was sweating in unusual way and what else can hurt a fresh injury than his own salty sweat. Downstairs, everything was cleaned up. In the morning he had figured out his flower vase, glass table, China clay vase and a porcelain nude woman was missing. All had been broken and now lay somewhere in trash can waiting for governmental sanitary van to approach and pick the pieces of them. While cleaning, he had found a tooth. Small one. He had knocked her frontal tooth out.
He couldn’t remember how much time did it take for him to clean the mess, including stains of blood he had been scrubbing most of the time, whishing nobody comes to visit him next morning.
In sleepless night, his mind al had almost turned inside out. As an Aquarius man he was imagining things he hadn’t thought he could ever imagine. He visited the fireplace for about a dozen of time within some hours before the hour hand turned six, in hope no child would come from there bellowing, "You fucking kidnapped me!"
Benjamin felt as if he had heard sound of a car's engine shut down in front of his house. The car shocked him and the person in it was nothing less than a nightmare. What he saw next from the window made him feel miserable. In a second he put his hand under the pillow and pulled out his unused Glock 26 Pistol which he had bought because it was cheaper than others. He had wished he wouldn’t have to use it when he had purchased it about a year ago.
I don’t know this person. He thought as he heard heavy knocks on the door. It sounded like the man outside was intending to break the door. It sounded like he was kicking on the door with heavy soled leather boot.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
"Hansen! Unlock the door!" the man yelled from outside.
"What do you want?" Hansen said instead of pretending he wasn’t in the house. He had his Glock fixed on the door. If anything went wrong from the man outside, he had made up his mind, he wouldn’t even think twice to shoot the bastard through the door.
"I said open it!" sound came louder and so did knocks. The outsider was kicking the door for real now.
"You keep kicking my door and I'll kick your damn balls out, you faggot." was rep
from Hansen.
"Okay…open the door or I'll shoot you scumbag!" the roaring voice said.
I can do it before you even think about it.
"I'm Tim Deighan. I'm from law and enforcement side, a cop." Mr. Deighan calmly responded, "Now don’t panic and open the door."
But this made him panic even more. A cop had arrived to his house and he had made dim-witted mistake. Instead of behaving like nothing wrong had happened, he behaved like nothing right had happened to him from his birth.
He couldn’t shoot a cop. He didn’t know if Tim Deighan had come alone or with some other men too (but he couldn’t hear anybody else outside). Shooting a cop could get him lynched or get him shot right away if discovered red handed. Either way, he would have to mess with his life. On the other hand, even though he was innocent, charge of abduction cost way lesser than life imprisonment or death sentence.
Hansen put his gun inside the drawer and headed towards the door. He felt sorry for having his gun left inside the drawer then after.
Before Hansen could unlock the door, the door flung open inside, its wooden part got in contact with his forehead and what came next was a 280 pounds man with a Glock Pistol gripped in his hand, aimed straight at him.