Odd Path

Silent Robbery

The soft sound of splashing water resonated through the air as small droplets of water continually fell into a wooden bucket outside the large yet quiet manor. The large mastiff slept soundly outside, next to his dog house chained onto a nearby wooden pole. The shining full moon illuminated the backyard, highlighting the manor's tall stature and white paint job. It gleamed like a beacon above all other houses in the area. Just like the manor, its owners were no stranger to being above the rest. The Franklins had long been one of the wealthiest families in all of North Texas, often buying multiple smaller houses around them and leaving them empty to keep their main house's environment less hectic and more quiet. Tom Franklin, the head of the house, often woke up in the middle of the night, sweating bullets: paranoid that someone was watching him and was planning to kill him. His past, although buried in obscurity thanks to his wealthy status, contained very dark turns and decisions that, more than likely, led to his constant paranoia. The rest of his family tried to help all they could but to no avail, for most their time was spent buying houses to leave empty. Tom had started to ease off on his paranoia, though. He had been having recurring nightmares for over two years, yet nothing had ever happened to him so he began convincing himself no one was out to get him. One night, Tom woke up at 3:00 am and went down stairs to have a glass of water. As he poured the water into his glass, he could honestly feel someone looking at him. Considering how dark it was, his suspicions weren't too outlandish. He calmed himself down and began drinking the water. He closed his eyes and gulped it down in a second or two. He then half heartedly put the glass on the table. Before he started to make his way back to his bedroom, he felt something sharp touching his pinky toe on his right foot. He grabbed a nearby candle and lit it. He then moved the candle closer and closer the his feet. The candles light began reflecting and refracting off the multiples pieces of bright objects on the floor. He finally moved the candle close enough to properly see what was spread around his feet. He let out a short outward gasp as he realized that his feet were touching small, but sharp, pieces of broken glass. He crouched down even further and began inspecting the glass. They seemed almost familiar. He quickly stood up and placed the candle next to the glass cup that he just drank out of. His eyes widened as he saw the glass cup had its base broken off.

"What the hell? I never heard this thing break..how'd this happen?" He thought to himself.

As he pondered, he heard the unique sound of breaking glass outside on his porch. He quickly grabbed the candle, stepped over the broken bits of the cup on the floor and scurried to his porch to investigate the noise. He opened the tall white door and and walked outside. The cool breeze swept around him. He looked around but saw no one. Not only that, he couldn't even find what had been broken. There was no glass on the floor and no vase nor pot was broken. The large glass windows seemed fine, and the only other glass object in the vicinity was a small glass cup that he had drank out of earlier that day, but that wasn't broken either. He turned around and walked back to his door, only to realize it had been closed without him noticing.

"The hells going on?! Am I losing my memory?" He though to himself.

As he pondered, he heard the cock of a revolver right behind him.

"Don't move." A man's voice echoed around his large porch area.

Tom, frozen, decided to put his candle down below spare piece of fire wood.

"Turn around." The voice demanded.

Tom slowly turned around. In front of him stood a tall man, with a nice physique. His face was covered by a mask. He wore a beige cowboy hat and black boots. His shoulders and chest were covered by a large black pancho with a white orchid pattern sowed onto it. He wore a black vest and a white long sleeve shirt. He wore beige gloves and a black belt with a large American flag for a buckle. His pants were a deep beige color. The man then spoke again.