Susan had taken a deep breath and took the first step into the blinding blue light. The light seemed to intensify. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a few more steps until the light seemed to fade. She daringly opened an eye. Everything was exactly what she expected. The pink comforter, the white dresser, and the plain walls. She saw the stuffed animals and couldn't help but smile. Especially when she saw Vanilla. Looking back at the bed, she saw the little girl. So tiny, and so innocent. It was then that Susan knew that she had to quite reminiscing and get back to her mission.
She swiftly and silently opened the door to the hallway. Through the hall, into the kitchen, and out the front door. Perfect. She ducked into a bush next to the front door. 12:23 a.m. her watch read. It wouldn't be long now. Only five minutes. Moment came almost too soon. There was a dark figure that made it's way to the door. There the monster was. He jiggled the handle of the door before it opened. Susan couldn't move at first, still struck from that childhood fear.
Finally she gained the courage. She stepped out of the bushes and the monster turned quickly to look at her. He jumped and said, "Can I help you with something?"
"Don't play that with me, I know this isn't your house."
He pulled a gun and pointed it at her. "Now listen here, missy, I will kill you if you don't get out of my way." Susan stood her ground. He cocked the gun, "I'm warning you. I am going to goo in this house with your permission or not."
Susan eyes the gun. Time seemed to slow as she looked him up and down. He was left handed and tall. He was tall, thus he had a high chance of week knees. He smelled like sweat. He was already tired from doing other stuff earlier that night. "Get outa here," he said one last time before Susan kicked up at his hand and knocked the gun and his hand to the side. She wasn't strong enough to kick the gun out of his hand, yet. She then kicked her foot into his right knee. He fell on his left knee and went back to his gun. Susan grabbed his hand and thrust it between her waist and other arm. She closed the space between her arm and waist, enclosing his hand and gun. She then punched her hand up against his elbow, breaking it. He yelled in agony and dropped the gun. She then scrabbled awkwardly for the gun. Once it was in her hand, she pointed it straight at the man. "No," he whimpered, cradling his arm, still on his knee. "Please. Why?"
"Shut up and take it like a man," she told him and then she pulled the trigger. He was dead instantly. She put the gun in his hand and just watched him for a bit. His dead cold eyes stared up at her. Pools of crimson blood pooled around her feet. This was the first time she really got the chance to look at him. His hair was a mess and he had a sort of beard. She did remember that beard. His clothes looked like jogging clothes, or something. Susan couldn't do this anymore. She walked away hastily. She heard sirens and ran. She ran faster than she had ever ran before. She ducked into an ally and sat down. She took deep breaths and tried to slow her heart beat. This attempt was futile, though, as she began to sob. Her hands were still covered in the sticky red fluid. She had never killed a man before. Never. But this was supposed to be her solution. The one that would make everything okay. It had to all be worth it.
A bright blue light appeared in front of her again. She stood. All she wanted to do was get out of here. She walked toward the light.