Something I wrote for my English class.

I looked at my partner. "Ready?"
He nodded. "Let's go."
We entered the house and approached the kitchen. No sign of life there. We proceeded into the living room. The hum of electronic equipment pricked like needles in my ears. My nose caught the faint scent of another presence, emanating from behind a partially closed door.
"Follow me," I breathed, and the two of us crept towards the door in dead silence. My partner inched his way through the door, careful not to let it squeak, and then motioned for me to follow.
The man was asleep in his bed; the mission had been all too easy. I snuck around to the man's left and my partner to the right.
"On the count of three," I whispered.
"One... two... three..."
My partner struck first; I, only moments later.
There was a brief struggle, and the man emitted but one scream.
As I and my partner sat next to each other, cleansing our wounds and contemplating the job well done, I thought to myself:
No one ever suspects the house cats.