The Necessity of Murder

My eyes shot open as the sound of ferocious growls and piercing shrieks filled the dingy mansion. My confusion quickly turned to panic, the murderous sounds growing more terrifying. My eyes adjusted to the dark void outside the window. Realizing I recognized the chaos, I took a deep breath. My arms pulled my sore body off the leather couch and grabbed my .32 automatic. I slipped in foam earplugs and crept across the wooden floor.

I cracked open the creaky wooden door, letting the winter air engulf my skin. I held the barrel of the silver pistol out of the doorway and squeezed the trigger. The deafening shot rang throughout the house. The faint sound of skittering and the crash of several glass jars alerted me that the intruders had made their escape. I wonder how those little bastards got in here this time, I thought.

The smell of death invaded my nose, causing my eyebrow to raise. I flicked on the light Peeking around the corner, I discovered the source of the smell. One of the mischievous creatures, an adult raccoon, was laid out on its side. Its rib cage was ripped open, the organs contained inside its body spilling out. I was in awe by the violence they had displayed. They always seemed more aggressive than I believed raccoons to be, but this was truly shocking. The demolished package of beef explained how the fight broke out, and how little rocky met his end.

The creatures found their way inside through the window, which now laid shattered on the floor of my kitchen. They are the reason I have three locks on my outside doors, and the reason I have been on high alert since I stepped foot in this 200 year old house. They showed no signs of becoming this murderous, but now I feared for my life. I had to get out of here.

I ran as quietly as I could out of the kitchen. Slipping my pistol into the back of my pants, I grabbed the cold steel of the Remington 12 gauge waiting patiently in the gun rack hanging in my storage room. I grabbed the box of shells and rounded the corner. Staring at the front door, I loaded five shells into my weapon. My teeth clenched as the shotgun pump created its signature noise, alerting the surrounding wildlife of my presence. I swung open the door to begin my trek to my 1993 BMW, located about 50 yards from my door. A raccoon appeared right in front of me. The blood lust in its eyes froze me for a moment, until I swung the barrel of the shotgun right in front of its face. I squeezed the trigger. The buckshot tore through its head, exploding skull particles, blood and brain matter all over my once clean porch. I sprinted to my car as several more were in hot pursuit. I ripped open the car door, as one dug its jagged teeth into my leg. I dug the barrel into its soft body and pulled the trigger. Organs and fur flew everywhere, causing pause to the others for a moment. I threw my body into the car, and dug around into my pocket for the car keys.

I jammed my key into the ignition, starting the car as the sounds of scratching and pounding began to surround me. The car reversed hard as I cut the wheel and pushed down hard on the gas. I threw my gear shift into drive and started down my long driveway. The car reached the end of it quickly and cut the wheel again, turning right onto the road.

I gasped as the front of the car collided with something big. My mind was taken off of the murderous creatures as my neighbor laid on the road. Cassandra, His wife, screamed and ran to him. I escaped my car and ran towards him. My eyes grew wide as I heard quick movement through the forest adjacent to the road, and I pushed his wife off of him.

They tore into his body. He screamed as they clawed into his stomach. They tore out his organs and flesh. I saw a fat one start to gnaw on his large intestine. They then turned their attention towards Cassandra and I. I froze, expecting them to rush at me. They continued staring at me, as if they were waiting for something. I took this time to sneak my pistol out of the back of my pants. I raised it and squeezed the trigger. The bullet entered Cassandra’s forehead. She fell back, and the animals ripped into her. They tore into her in a similar manner as her husband. A smile spread across my blood soaked face as they turned back to me. I understood what they wanted, and somehow felt they knew I could provide them with it.

I limped back to my car and drove back home. I trudged back inside the house. I laid back down on the couch, accompanied by my new friends. They watched me as I passed out from pain and exhaustion.

I woke up, a pool of blood surrounding my leg. I limped to the kitchen and wrapped up my leg. I cleaned the blood as best as I could, my small friends helping me by consuming the puddle. I pulled out my phone and I dialed a number. I noticed a massive blood stain was still visible, so I threw a blanket over the couch. I was going to have a visitor this afternoon to gather up a couple things, and I didn’t want my ex-wife to feel uncomfortable if she saw it.