He sat behind the desk, his feet propped on the edge, staring out the window. Tat, tat, tat. Rain pounded against the glass, keeping him company on his silent vigil. The knock on the door did nothing to rouse him from his watch. A servant entered pushing her service cart laden with bottles of chemicals intended to clean and rags to wipe away the dirt and dust. The girl pulled a notecard from her pocket and laid it on the cluttered desk by his elbow. He grunted his acknowledgment but continued watching out the window through the rain.
The girl busied herself with straightening the mess that had become his office. She picked up the discarded napkins and the candy bar wrappers from his latest bout of late nights. She wiped the dust that had accumulated from the bookshelf. He let her do as she pleased; she wouldn’t be in his way tonight. She would leave before she would become a nuisance. He had gotten complacent as of late, though, to the maid’s displeasure, and had let his spotless office fall into chaos. He had begun to fall into chaos as well.
His eyes swept back across the lawn beneath his window. Still nothing. There had been nothing for an hour or more since he had begun his watch. He sighed and picked up the maid’s card. Three words stared back at him. Nothing less than he expected, though. No new information for him to glean about tonight’s appointment. He had planned out everything so carefully, as he always did, but he feared that in these last moments he would fall to ruin and his carefully laid plan would fail.
He laid the card back on his desk and let the black letters gaze with him out the window. He is coming. The words filled the air, thrumming in the silence. Almost becoming tangible. Yes, he was coming, but he was late. His guest must know what was going to happen when he finally arrived, the man mused.
A gunshot broke the silence. Glass shattered and fell to decorate the lawn like glitter on a cheek. His guest stopped in the shadow of the house. Blood seeped from the man’s shoulder. Surprise colored his eyes for a moment before he returned the sound to his host. The maid wailed and fled the room, her service cart full of chemicals and rags abandoned in the office.
A third shot echoed in the night air. The guest fell backward as if a weight were attached to his head. The man sat back in his desk chair, which he had abandoned at the first shot. The monster on the lawn was gone. The man began cleaning his weapon. A new monster had entered the room. He laughed in the silence.
If you enjoyed this short fiction, be sure to check out my other works under Short Stories.
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Copyright © Sibille Rose – January 2017