Gothic Essay

673 Words2 Pages

It was a cold stormy night and I had just arrived home from work. The house was still. I was relaxing in my recliner when I heard a series of knocks at the door. As I came out of the living room the knocks were getting louder and louder. I thought to myself, "Who could be at the door this late at night?" When I opened the door there was a tall man dressed all in black. He smelled of rotten eggs and looked like he just crawled out of a mud pit. His car was having trouble and he needed to use the phone. I invited him in and told him that the phone was down the hall in the kitchen. Instead of calling the tow truck he called his friend, James, to come pick him up. I invited him to have a cup of coffee and some donuts while he waited for his friend to pick him up. We talked for about an hour when there was another knock at the door.
The police were outside and were here looking for a murderer named Brian. Brian had just escaped from jail and stolen a guard's car. They said that the guard’s car was located right outside of my house. We went into the kitchen to find that the man with car troubles was missing. The police jolted outside to try to catch him. They couldn't find him, but then proceeded to question me about him for what seemed like hours. When they finally left, I went upstairs to go to sleep.
I heard a noise and when I woke up Brian was sitting in my bedroom, watching me. I tried to grab my cell phone but Brian slammed my arm against the dresser. Brian said that he wanted my car and my money immediately. I refused until he pointed a gun at me so I gave him all of the money in my wallet, which only came out to be $200.00. Brian wasn't satisfied of course, he wanted more. He put his gun up against my head and said, "Go to the b...

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... my back. The ground suddenly stopped moving and I hit my head. I heard two doors slam and two men started talking. They opened the trunk and dragged me out. We were at a dark warehouse. I begged them to let me go, but of course they refused. The warehouse was full of huge boxes. Foolishly, I asked what was in all the boxes. Brian opened one of the boxes up to show me its contents. All the boxes were filled with guns of all sizes. The instant he showed me the guns, Brian pulled out his own gun. I begged him for my life, but it was too late I already knew too much. He shot me right in my chest.
A couple days later the police found my body floating down a river. James and Brian were never found. They had escaped to the Bahamas with over $100,000 worth of weapons and cash. They spent the rest of their lives fleeing from country to country trying to avoid their charges.

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