Disclaimer! : this story contains gore and murder, not suitable for everyone.
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A robbery on Main Street. Sirens are ringing as they zoom by. Money fluttering like feathers. Trails of money freshly robbed. Ending by the dumpsters. But he wasn't dumb of course, it was a false trail. Walking in the opposite direction with a backpack full of cash. You can hear the sirens from a distance. Home alas, was reached, it was not more than a small apartment of some sort. "Peter Myers! You're gonna pay my rent or you're dead" A burly man no one wants to mess with.
"I've got your rent right here Mr. Owner" He held up that bag
"Is that stolen?"
"This is hard-earned money" Pulled the cash out from the bag.
"Hmm"
The burly man took the cash then threw the bag on Peter and walked back into his manhole. Well technically he wasn't lying, wasn't the whole truth but he did earn that money. Robbing is hard. Peter went on to sit on the couch and turned on the TV. Watching the chaos he created wasn't very interesting since he was there, but to look normal you'd first have to practice normal. That aside, Insomnia is a real pain. It's 2:54 AM and sleep is nowhere to be found. Peter's melatonin pills ran out and it's not like he can just get up and go grab it from the pharmacy. Except he can. He got up, grabbed a pair of socks, and lept for the door. He walked up to the door. He cringed before he even opened the door. Creak. The door was so loud it could have awoken the dead.
Searching through the endless shelves of medicine he couldn't seem to find it. Normally it's on the first shelf on the right at the tippy top. Still searching for at least what seemed like 30 minutes he gave up. Sirens! No way, couldn't be, hasn't happened since last September!
"Interesting" He surrendered himself. "A little police won't hurt, they'll yap me to sleep instead," he said rolling his eyes.
"You have the right to remain silent" Blah blah blah heard it a million times. Do not surrender unless you know how to escape. Kids do not try this home. Needless to say, this part was not fun, the fun part comes later.
"How long do you intend to keep me here?" He said pouty with the classic, two hands on the iron bars, sticking his face out from the spaces in between, in the uniform the prison had left it aside just for him. Peter knew how long they kept him, almost consistent. It wasn't the norm but he went in there too often than normal criminals. 54 times, 55th now. Nothing unusual really, Peter made a side conversation with the guard who he'd gone to elementary school with.
"Come on Peter let's go '' Ah, meet Sherif Miller, she is a sympathetic woman, but it's only more annoying. She leads him to a room more familiar than his childhood home. It was an investigating room or whatever, Miller always talks about going to school and getting a job. But Peter kept his silence, knowing that confessing wasn't an option. Remember the fun part? Here it comes. Miller always has to leave the room for some reason and tells him she will send for someone. But they usually forget and leave Peter all alone. To escape the best way to do so is a paper clip, the paper clip was stashed in his mouth. Even after all this practice, picking locks was not something he was skilled at like arson, so it took him a while.
"Peter Myers, someone has come to bail you out," said a woman who clearly did not want to be working there, she looked like she wanted to take off that uniform and burn it. Her unfazed expressions were a dead giveaway but her microexpressions flared when he didn't respond to her the first time, those were the ones that scare.
"Peter Myers! Is that you?" Peter was flabbergasted.
"Hello, I am talking to you!"
"Me?"
"Are you Peter Myers?"
"Ye-yes"
"Then why didn't you respond the first time?" she sounded like a whining cat when she breathed out the last two words. "Let's go somebody has bailed you out"
Peter gets up and follows her, they get to the front desk. A man in all black with a blue tie who was doing the papers looked up, his face lit up.
"Larry?" Larry Larson an old man in his 50s was Peter Myer's Uncle, he had a big round fat face, with a beer belly. Horrible person according to Peter, he worked as a mechanic for two days before they kicked him out for chucking a whole pack of beer in one day. Another time Larry got a job as an employee at seven eleven, this one though was the record breaker, one whole month without doing anything suspicious. But then it all goes downhill for him because he gets drunk and takes a bite out of all of the strawberry-frosted doughnuts and complains they weren't like strawberries. Always drunk on the job hence the beer belly.
"Son, so long till we met last '' his lispy speech was a cringe show even if he said seven words, the amount of spit that flew from his mouth could fill up a bath.
"Where did you get the money?"
"Your aunt's insurance claim" He looked proud of it too.
"What?!" My confuzzled face must not have been bold enough since he continued to say,
"You'll be out now so you don't need to worry '' That man was unbelievable, he didn't have the guts to kill Aunt Beth, she wasn't healthy, so how did he do it?
"Alright Myers, I hope I don't see you again... In a good way of course" said Miller
"Let's hope not" I head out with Larry to his broken-down car from the '50s.
YOU ARE READING
Mayhem
Mystery / Thriller"With his wrist held down tightly, he watch a man dressed in black put something in his IV within seconds he felt his eyes getting heavier "Stop" he was able to bark out "I will kill you" speech slurred and he thought this is how he'd die.
