Thssi is The Vacant Arbitrator, reporting for duty. I thank you (whoever you are) for clicking on my story. Please read all the way, I promise it's actually an interesting story. :)
Claimer: I own all characters within this story and ask that I be given the writes of any author, and get to keep my ideas. I worked hard and long to create this story and it's plot. Thank you.
"Now, tell me again, how is this going to work?" Afra asked, her face contorted into a dubious frown.
I huffed as I stretched the ski cap over my head. "I've already told you, like, ten times!" I said. "We're going to pretended like we're spies! You know—sneaking around in the cover of night, black outfits, mission impossible theme song— the whole deal!" I exclaimed in a whisper.
Afra hesitantly pulled the ski cap over her short auburn hair. "For someone so down to earth you sure have an odd idea of fun."
"Enough of your vague insults." I waved my hand to hush her as I slowly pulled open my window. "I want to know who's out there— and I want to know now!"
For the past week or so, I had seen a creepy shadow appear at the base of my house every night. I told Afra about it, but I don't think she really understood the gravity of the situation until now. At least, I don't think she realized how serious it was to me until now.
I glanced at the clock. Ten o' clock exactly. We were right on time. I nodded my head at her, gesturing for her to come over to the window. I swung my leg out as she rolled her eyes and sauntered over.
"I still say you're over reacting." Afra said in a hissing sing-song voice.
"And I still say you're not understanding the serial-killer factor." I retorted in the same tone before slipping out the window.
I gently placed my sneakers on the moist roof tiles and slowly leaned my body off the window ledge. I got on my knees and moved slowly across the roof, nearing the edge. I heard Afra follow after me, her movements reluctant.
"I hope you realize how high-strung you are." She whispered irritably.
"You'd be too if there was some stalker was scoping your house out every night." I hissed and peeked over the roof's edge, searching for the creepy shadow.
Afra joined me with an exaggerated grunt. She placed her chin on her hands and looked down her pixie nose, over the edge and into my backyard. "You know, if there actually was a murderer/stalker creeping around your house, it would be pretty stupid to spy on them like this. What are you going to do, throw a hammer down and knock them out? They'd kill you before you could, anyway."
"Um, no, actually it's a wrench— and I have a fighting chance. Murderers don't always get to kill their planned victim."
"Trust me on this, Kay." Afra said in deadpan. "Even with a wrench, you're no match for a gun wielding murderer."
"I think we've established that I would throw the wrench down, so he wouldn't even see me." I growled. "Besides, he may not have a gun."
Afra rolled her eyes. "Of course he's going to have a gun. He's a murderer. He has to have one."
"Ted Bundi used a club to kill at least five young women." I pointed out.
"Well, guess what? I don't think this guy's Ted Bundi."
"So now you think there really is a guy in question?" I asked.
Afra scowled. "We're speaking hypothetically."
"You should have established that in the first place." I shot back.
Our argument didn't get much farther, as Afra chose that moment to freeze and cringe back. I stared at the girl as her brown eyes widened. I snapped my head to look back at my backyard and watched as the shadow slipped in from the forest.
It was slow moving and acted almost hesitant. It never stopped moving forward, however, and began to crouch as it came to the side of my house. I leaned slightly forward as I tried to keep him in sight. By the time the shadow was curled up on my patio, by my back door, my head was over the edge.
Afra's voice came low and dry. "…What do we do?"
I took a breath, trying to my mind work. "Um… not sure." I wheezed back.
"Not sure?" She asked between her teeth. "What about that wrench?"
"Well!" I said, and couldn't think of much more to say. I had the wrench in my hand, sure, but that was a last resort. I didn't want to throw it unless I heard a gun shot or saw him trying to break in. I'd heard too many stories about criminals sueing good families for harm done to them while on their property (which was totally unethical and utterly retarded, but lots of them managed to win because of the corrupted standing of lawyers).
"He's just sitting there!" I hissed through my teeth and Afra shuffled forwards more for a better look.
"So what do we do?" She asked again, a little more severe.
"I don't know!" I grumbled back. "He's not doing anything! He's just sitting on my patio. I can't conk him on the head for that!"
"What if he's a she?" Afra raised the debate.
I rolled my eyes. "Like it matters! Whatever sex they are, they still have the potential murderer or stalker threat written all over them! Come on, Afra, put a little thought into this." I complained.
Afra sighed as she always did when I whined. "Whatever, I'm just saying!" She mumbled and looked over the edge again.
The shadow was still curled up on my back patio. He didn't do anything— just sat there— like usual. I grunted and fingered my wrench.
"There's still the matter of what we're going to do about him, or her." Afra whispered. "We can't just wait till he actually murders one of you."
I nodded. "Yeah, but I can't beat him over the head until he actually poses a threat, either. I don't want to get sued, or murdered."
"I have an idea." Afra said.
I stared at her, and waited.
"Let's go tell your dad and get him to come out with that gigantic rifle of his. That ought to scare off the dude."
I shook my head, scowling. "I tried that already. Dad didn't believe me. He didn't even get out of bed to check." I spat quietly.
Afra sighed again and looked over the edge, "Hey, hey! He's moving." She flipped her hand, gesturing for me to look.
I threw my head over, making sure my braid didn't fall over the edge.
The shadow was in the middle of standing up. He stretched his arm over his head in a slightly hesitant way. His movements reminded me a lot of mine when I was hiding in my parents' closet, hesitant and fearful—afraid of being caught.
He began walking slowly over to the forest.
"Do something! You can't let him get away again." Afra whispered urgently, tugging on my sleeve.
I did do something. But it was a something that we both wished hadn't been done. We watched the wrench fall, and fall, and fall…
…and land just in front of the shadow.
The figure jumped and started backwards, freezing. As he did, so did Afra and I. We both gaped at the situation.
"We're dead." Afra said in a low, husky voice.
I could only nod, my mouth hanging open.
We watched the figure in horror. He slowly began looking up, the rest of his body rigid. Afra's hand suddenly shot out and gripped mine. I ignored how my fingers were turning purple as I saw the figure's eyes catch the light of the moon.
I froze in unexplainable terror. His eyes flashed gold in the light and I knew I was going to die. Afra was, too. We were going to be mauled to death, pieces of our bodies strewn across the grass and our blood scattered in puddles.
But I was wrong. The murderer/stalker guy saw us and started. He jumped again, staring at us with flashing gold eyes. Then he turned, and bolted the rest of the way to the forest.
Afra and I stared after him in wonderment.
Please Review! And a big -glomp- to all those who made it this far without falling asleep ;D lol
The dog looked greedy suddenly and I didn't like it. I tried to slowly move back, but as I moved the dog growled. It gave an ecstatic ruff and licked my neck, growling lowly in its throat. I started shaking, and not from its icy tongue.
"ADIN!" A voice rang from across the street.
Immediately, the dog jumped off me and turned around, wagging its thin tail happily. I was still wheezing by the time it had bound over to the other side of the street. Its master wasn't nearly as happy as the dog.