Page 13 of Eyes Like Angel

“We’re paying a visit,” he said.

Code word for visit was stealing valuable shit. Stealing valuable materials is something I looked forward to whenever nightfall arises and the rural town is asleep.

“Before we go in, I need you to pay me upfront. You’re late,” he said to me, hand beckoned for a hard, cold cash.

I gave him a $100 bill.

“Got your mask ready?”

I set my Fawkes Guy mask on.

Saul slicked his greasy dirty-blond hair back. “You know what we’re here for. We get in and we get out. No fucking around, Rivers,” he said, having his pocket knife at the ready, his clown mask was on. “Let’s go.”

With his lock pick, we busted in, collecting valuable items we shared and stuffed them in the bags he compiled. For me, I stuffed them in my jacket and pockets—any jewel or materials I could find, I stuffed them. If it’s something big, Saul would carry it; chunks of money I’ll get income, anyway.

We raced down onto the staircases first. Luckily, when we entered, there’s no alarm system. I don’t think in a rural town like wouldn’t understand what’s like to have an alarm in case of robbery.

As soon as we headed upstairs, Saul and I checked the doors, to see if people were sleeping. The parents were asleep at the end of the hall.

When I stepped in onto the last door in the center, Madison—sorry, Samantha—and her boyfriend were on the bed, naked.

I huffed.

Of course, why am I not fucking surprised?

Sneaking in close, I tried to find a valuable to steal from her, hoping it’d valuable substance. Each drawer I check and her vanity or even her bag, there was no gain to steal. Tip-toed from corner to corner, I checked the pockets in one of her jackets. Again, there was nothing. It’s just useless shit she collected—mostly dolls, makeup and cheap perfumes.

Accidentally, I kicked her boyfriend’s shoes and thudded.

Samantha’s eyes woke up, lurched her naked body upwards. I crouched down on the side of the bed, hiding, breathing under my mask.

“Hello?” she said.

Hello? Is that what she’s going to say, hello? Damn, she’s so dumb, and she’s not even a character in a horror film, but she fits the stereotype.

“Hello,” she repeated, groaning from her deep sleep, yawning. “Who goes there?”

Another stereotypical line from her. Why did I get together with her again? Oh, that’s right; I was being cornered by her. Duh! Stupid as fuck!

Then she woke up her boyfriend—even worse!

“Devon,” she hissed, shaking him. “Devon, wake up!”

“What?” he groaned, rubbing his sleepy eyes, shifting in her bedside.

“Someone’s here,” she said, frail voice seeping. “We have to find out and report to the police. Have them arrested.”

When she got off the bed, she grabbed her flashlight, until I came up behind her and had my hand wrapped on her mouth, screaming and biting me.

The boyfriend came up behind me and did a headlock. But I was quick; I grabbed him by the neck and had him get stabbed by my knife.

Panicking, I nearly shouted as she tried to run from me, but no use. I smacked her head and pulled her ginger hair and ended up slicing her. Samantha ran out to the door, hoping her parents would be nearby. They were nearby, except they had their sleeping headsets on.

She rushed at the hallway, tripped in the dark and before she could reach her parents’ door, and I was smiling. Trudging closer.

Oh, to be or not to be, that is the question.

And I jabbed her neck with a bloody knife.