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The flat was dark, strange shadows drifted across the walls
as cars chased each other down the hill. Mitch moved carefully through the
darkness. This was his home, he knew his way around the maze of fixtures and
fittings without having to turn the lights on. Turning the lights on would only
invite a plethora of unwanted guests; moths, midges and mosquitos, who were also
looking for shelter from the oppressive heat outside. So Mitch guided himself
through the dark using muscle memory like he had done so many times before. But
tonight there was something different, something a little eerie about the flat,
like maybe Mitch was not alone. The door had been locked when Mitch had come
back from the pub and the flat was on the third floor so it was very doubtful
someone had managed to break in. But Mitch had a sixth sense and Mitch’s sixth
senses were rarely wrong. He stood still and listened for telltale sounds, but
only noises were the cars in the street outside and a dog barking. But hang on,
what was that creak? Was it a footstep? Was that a soft cough from the shadows?
‘It’s just your imagination,’ Mitch mumbled to himself. But
he wouldn’t be happy until he’d closed the windows, switched the lights on and
had a good look around.
He headed to the bedroom window, but before he could get
there he crumpled to the floor.
Mitch had played rugby in his youth, broken arms, legs and
heads in various accidents, been beaten up by hooligans in pub car parks but
he’d never know pain like the pain he was in now. He guessed it had been a
baseball bat across the shins. Perfectly placed to take him to the floor and
take the wind out of his sails. He writhed in agony. He waited for the next
blow, the killer blow. Or maybe his assailant would tie him up and do
unspeakable things to him. He waited listening for sounds. Mitch’s father
worked for a bank, maybe this was a hostage taking so they could rob the
branch. Mitch had read about such things. His shins stung, his eyes filled with
tears, he struggled to catch his breath. He lay still. But no second blow came, there was no noise to
suggest there were people in the room with him, just the sounds of the cars in
the streets below. But if it wasn’t a madman or woman with a baseball bat what
had taken his legs away so dramatically, so painfully? He dragged himself over
to the wall and managed to reach up to turn the light on. The brightness stung
his eyes; maybe his attacker would use his light blindness to attack again. But
nothing. Mitch’s eyes looked around the room and saw the intruder staring silently
at him. Mitch had completely forgotten about the mini trampoline he had bought
and assembled earlier that day.
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This story lacks a visual :)
ReplyDeleteyou mean you want to see the bruises?
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