The Reckoning of the Offended

Chapter 2

The man's footsteps echoed in the cavernous hallway and the light caught his black hair, which was slicked back with gel. The screams of the night before echoed in his mind and he smiled, a sardonic smile. "They'll never suspect me," he thought to himself. He was quite the shadowy figure, and he managed to escape from some of the trickiest situations. Tonight, he wanted to exact the revenge he needed to on someone he hated. Someone he hated more than the police, his abusive father.

As he walked, he heard the keys jingling in his pocket and the snores of people in bed fast asleep. He opened the flat door as quietly as possible and stepped inside. The moonlight shone through the glass and lit up the clock in the hallway. He glanced at the time, seeing the hour hand at 12 and the minute hand at 6. It was the witching hour, or as he liked to call it, murder time. The bedroom door creaked as it opened. The man stepped back into the shadows as he watched his father, or his prey, walk past his hiding spot. 

 As soon as his back was turned, the man ran and stabbed his father in the back, looking at his father's glassy eyes. He smashed the window, using another piece of glass to write "ABUSER" on his father's wrist. Another successful one. Suddenly, he heard movement and fled, jumping out of the smashed window before he was found and arrested by the detective, he hated the most, Carol Watson.

An old lady wandered out of the bedroom calling her husband's name before stumbling and collapsing over her husband's body that lay motionless on the floor. She wept until her tear ducts could not leak anymore before calling the police to tell them the news. "Yes, that is correct, my name is Doris. Doris Scarlet. Yes, I will hold." Her shoulders started to shake; her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were red and puffy as if she had had an allergic reaction.