987-Anonymous

half past 7:a.m: Tony groaned as his phone vibrated on his end table; persistently — annoyingly. –

It read unknown 987, answering the call: “Hello.,” — “Tony congratulations you were drawn to be the winner. We just need your full name and address to get started.,” the anonymous males deep raspy voice pitched.

“I haven’t made any entries into no silly raffle, now stop calling this number!” — Hanging up the phone: discarding it on the end table; Tony rolled back over, returning to his slumber.

9:a.m; Tony’s phone began vibrating again, he pryed his head up from his pillow with a groan, moments later he then folded the sheets back, sitting up, to sit on the edge of the bed, turning off the obnoxious alram swiftly.

With a yawn Tony slid his feet into his sherpa slippers adjacent to his bed– one treacherous trek it was, to the washroom just off Tony’s bedroom, finished, Tony stumbled to the hallway a few-feet from the washroom door.

coherent, Tony realized something was amiss… he proceed towards the kitchen cautiosly to percolate his coffee, Tony noted: things were shuffled and disturbed, down the cramped mid-century hallway ending in a tucked away kitchen and dining nook.

In the dining nook, lied Tony’s portrait- on my portrait; lay a big red target over Tony’s face: Noting it was red and straight with an even bullseye.

Again it vibrated around in Tony’s pocket; 987, it read again. Hesitant, Tony answered: “h-h-hello.“–

“Hello again Tony. This is your last chance to claim your prize…”, noting the voice was different although subtlety almost unnoticable.

“I don’t know what your o-o–n about, and frankly I’m not interested.”- as Tony hung it up in his ear, dropping his phone back down into the robe pocket.

A knock rattled upon the door BANG BANG BANG. oh no, Tony gasped.

Growing louder, sweat beaded down Tony’s forehead; Answering the door – to the extent the locking chain would give: before me stood a posh older man, upon a cursory scroll. Tony noted: he wore- a fancy overpriced suit with heavily tinted sunglasses, tall wirey build and a chiseled, time beaten face, his hair was dark as night, wirey and rough.

“Hello Tony?” The man proded, authoritatively.

“Yes this is h-h-he.” Tony replied hesitantly

“Lets step inside Tony.”; in his suit pocket he obtained a tan leather wallet, grabbing the corner he released the fold revealing his badge. Shoving it out for Tony to see briefly, before he snatched it away again with haste: it appeared awfully counterfeit in apperance, Tony noted.

I stood for some time unsure of what words were, (frankly what to do in general). The man grew Impatient, before Tony could muster up the courage; he’d barged in, shoving Tony afling: his head had connected with the corner of the end-table near the door, dazing Tony leaving him incapacitated. The man glanced to and fro, ensuring no witnesses existed, coast is clear, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him.

“I told you Tony, you should have taken your prize! Now I plan to make this slow.,”; as the man drew his coat back, unbuttoning his sheith, allowing him to draw his blade from within. Releasing his coat it settled back with ease, bringing the blade outward.- it shimmered under the light.

“Please no. Why me.,” I strained in fright.

“Becuase very rude people, like you, deserve it. Think of it as, justice!.,” once he had Tony gagged, the man applied the cold sharp blade to Tony’s belly, sending shivers down his spine. Carving a neat line from hip to hip, Then hung Tony from his ankles; vanishing without a trace nor a witness to be found. Tony began loosing focus, falling he was, into a dark abyss down down down.

Other’s by Sven Defono-

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