Day 221 – Half Hour Hitman – Part 12

Word count: 734

“What have you brought home today?”

The Half Hour Hitman had just returned, another load of shopping. To Andy, it was becoming quite humorous. Living together in this proximity, they appeared more like a married couple than hostage and capture.

The Half Hour Hitman deposited the food in the kitchen.

“Just the usual. The shops didn’t have anything on special offer. I hope you like chicken pie.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Anything interesting happen while I was out?”

The Half Hour Hitman allowed Andy to watch the football on the television whilst he was out. Andy was somewhat enjoying it in a strange way. He had almost allowed himself to forget that he was being held against his will and had really got into the game. It was nice. It was nice to forget. Perhaps this was how his family was feeling right now: trying to forget about the son that abandoned them.”

“Yeah, Arsenal scored. It wasn’t anything special, but it’s almost full time now.”

“Yeah? I was hoping that Chelsea were going to thrash them.”

“You’re never a Chelsea fan? Oh god I’m going to be killed by a Chelsea fan. I actually prefer that my family don’t know about it!”

The Half Hour Hitman smiled back, “Glad you’re getting a sense of humour back.”

“It’s been hard,” Andy replied, scathingly.

“You understand, right?”

“Not really, but I’m just learning to accept it.”

The house had grown really comfortable in the time that they had been living there. Andy had made his corner of the sofa his own. He even forgot that his hands were bound for the most part. This felt more like a home than a prison, he was not sure if how comfortable he should feel with that, but it was not something he could deny.

“I’ll put the pie on,” The Half Hour Hitman said, turning his back on the football and returning to the kitchen.

Andy heard all sorts of noises in the kitchen – ovens being turned on, fridge doors being closed, cupboards being slammed and cutlery being wrestled from the drawer. But there was another noise that crept into his eardrums that came from quite the different direction. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was, but he eventually worked out that it was the letter box in the front door. It was not windy outside, so Andy was confused as to why it would be shaking in the wind.
Since the Half Hour Hitman trusted him a lot more, he was no longer bound to the seat. He managed to get up and wander over to the living room door, where he could peek into the hallway without being seen. His heart was thumping in his chest – could this be a repeat of what happened in the last place? Could they have been spotted? Perhaps – though it was a long shot – this was the police coming to rescue him?

Andy glanced back at the kitchen – the Half Hour Hitman was quite busy to notice that Andy had left his place on the sofa and the football noises and commentators were enough to drown out any noise that Andy might possibly make by stepping into the hallway.

He felt like a schoolboy, being forbidden to walk down a corridor. It was weird: he did not trust this man who held him captive one bit, but he felt as if he were betraying his trust by approaching the door. The letterbox was still shaking in the non-existent wind. Andy lowered himself so that his eyeline matched that of the letterbox and looked right through it.

A lightning bolt of fear struck through every nerve in his body. A pair of eyes met him – yellowish and fearful. He crashed backwards into the stairs behind him. A hand poked through, holding the letter box open and a set of teeth began to talk through.

“Andy, you can’t hide forever! Andy, we know where you are! We will always know where you are!”

“Help! Help! Help!” Andy screamed.

The Half Hour Hitman came bursting through. The letterbox slammed shut.

“There was someone – they knew my name, they threatened me!”

The Half Hour Hitman threw the front door open and leered out. Andy saw that he had one hand on the gun that he kept in his chest pocket. The Half Hour Hitman was scared. Andy was terrified.

Advertisements

~ by S.G. Mark on May 15, 2012.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: