Bugs || Malia Tate

12. Deaths Silver Lining.

"Knock Knock."

The guard shot straight up from his leaned back position in his old chair, the phone where he had been playing an intense game of angry birds dropped from his hand as he lifted the gun. His bag of chips long forgotten as the crumbs fell from his shirt. The black revolver shifting from side to side as he continuously looked for who had spoken. Inside the small post of his there was only one spot the noise could have came from.

The open window leading towards the dark woods.

He slowly crept near it, knowing he had a gun in his hand and was also locked inside the space.

"Who's there!" He yelled out. If it was another joke from his coworkers he was going to shoot one of them and say it was a damn joke.

There was no response, In fact, he couldn't even hear another pull of breath from outside. He crept closer to the window, waving the gun around a few times outside and looking for the culprit. There was none, not even a footprint to indicate that someone else was there. So what the hell had made that noise?

He dropped the gun, rolling his shoulders around and concluding he might have been hearing things. After all, he was alone and on the front lines, the forest was intimating as all hell when there was no one else.

"I'm going crazy. Get a grip of yourself Gary." he murmured to himself, wiping away the swat that had accumulated on his forehead in those short, tension filled, moments. Just as he went to relax once more, remind himself that he was a grown man who couldn't be afraid. He was apart of the Japanese mafia for Christ sake, admittedly low level, but still apart.

He was about to laugh at his own foolish antics, possibly shut the open window, and pick his phone back up; when his locked door widely opened.