I couldn't remember the little imbedded closet having been in my room before, but the sudden noise coming from it woke me. I rolled onto my back, careful not to squash Dante as he lay curled up and flushed against me. The pup was still in deep slumber, snoring softly away. Which meant I must have dreamt the noise, otherwise he would have been the first to be alerted by it, not me. Satisfied with my reasoning, I returned to my comfortable position and closed my eyes.
The noise was definitely there this time, though. Loud and clanking noises were coming from the closet. Where the fuck had that closet come from, though? It was supposed to be in the kitchen, wasn't it? Dante's snores made me frown as I looked at him. I gave him a little nudge, but all that it accomplished was for his snoring to stop. Well, woohoo! I thought dryly.
I squinted in the darkness to the closed closet door. No movement. Was I thinking I suddenly got a boogie man hiding in the closet? I must be high off of the pain killers I took before going to sleep.
Prepared to ignore my imagination and shut my eyes one more time, a scream was torn from my lips when the small closet burst open. A tall, lanky man climbed out of it. My scream allowed him to find me quickly, weaponless and helpless as a babe upon my full sized bed. Not even my lazy, snoring dog awake to protect his mistress.
The intruder made a dash for the bed as I scrambled to get out of it. I had not yet seen a weapon, but I wasn't about to wait for him to pull one out. Weapon or not, he was still larger and stronger than I was.
His hand wrapped around my ankle as I was nearly off the bed, and I turned and kicked back at him. I didn't hit him, but I managed to fluster him enough that he released me. Once more I made for the other side of the bed. This time I reached it, and as soon as my feet hit the floor I ran.
I tripped down the stairs, luckily managing not to break my neck. For some incredibly stupid reason I head for the kitchen, not the front door. I do grab the large Chef knife from the block and prepare to do battle. The man is not far behind, and as he spots the knife his eyes grow wide. He doesn't have a weapon, so now he is at my mercy.
As I hold the knife to his throat, I am barely able to keep from shaking as I force him to step back and out of the kitchen. I should be using one of the swords, I think with a sigh. I have them, four of them to be exact. I could even use the naginata, or Japanese spear. Instead I am wielding the silly old Chef's knife, not even the good one. This one has the old wooden handle. It was my mom's, and now it's mine. I don't even remember how I came to have it.
We are now in the living room, and with the knife firmly at his throat, I dial the 911. All I get is a steady tone. What the hell? I think.
"Goddamnit!" I say. It comes to me that I'm in England, not the US. It is 999 here. Bloody Brits!
A woman answers with the prerequisite "999, what is your emergency?"
"Someone broke into my home. I have him at knife point. Please help me!" I panicked on the phone, but I just can't seem to help myself. I guess under the circumstances, a little panic isn't too surprising.
"Alright, miss. Just tie him up and we will be by shortly to collect the intruder. We have your location."
With a sigh of relief, I hung up. One glance around the room, all I spot is the dog leash and some packing tape. Damn! And then I gotta wait for the cops to show up, too? I'm more than just a tad bit irritated at this point.
Roughly I roll up the man with as much of the packing tape as I have. All wound up and unable to do much more than just sit, I fasten the dog leash around his neck, and I force him outside the front door. I sit him there and tie the other end of the leash to the gate.
"If they think I'm gonna stay awake until they decide to show up they have another thing coming. You can sit out here to wait for them," I tell the bastard that woke me. One last glance over my shoulder and as I shut the door, I grin. "Hope you don't mind your damp, cold English weather."