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Murdered In Cold Blood


 

Shadow loomed on one of the oak trees around the front yard. Everywhere was quiet. The light was still glowing as can be seen from the window. He checked his watch - It was almost 8pm.


Gently, he grabbed his pistol from its holster as he steely gazed at the house. Moving from behind the tree, he crossed over into the garden and crouched. Again, he moved farther, this time towards the porch.


There, he climbed the porch step and headed for the door. He was astounded when he lifted his hand to knock. The door opened at ease. In a moment he felt chill, and then he stepped forward to the foyer.


The smell came at him first.


"What's that smell?" he murmured.


He clamped his left hand over his nose and crept forward. It was the smell of blood and something else but he wasn't sure. The light from the window was radiating from his left. It was the sitting room.


His pulse accelerated, his heart seemed to be beating 10x a sec, his sight seemed 10x magnified too. He was eager to see what or who it was. Turning into the sitting room, he stopped.


Blood was all over the room. Two people were lying helplessly on the floor, turned over. They could be dead. It was a man and a woman.


He stepped further, kneeling beside them in their pool of blood to check their pulses. Nothing! Their body was already stone cold.


He was devastated. His face turned red. His jaw dropped in shock. He laid his gun aside and lay backward on the bloody floor.


"Noooo!" he screamed.


His foster parent has been murdered in cold blood!







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