London's Bad Girl. (Incomplete - not finishing)

Chapter 19.

London's Bad Girl: Chapter 19: Anonymous

A leather covered finger pressed against the black button. A low door bell echoing throughout the eerily air as the gentlemen dressed in black waited patiently for the door to open.  

The man standing in front, turned his head to face the man on his left. His mouth moved quickly, the man nodding his head as he comprehended the directions that were just given to him.

His arm reached out, smacking the man on his left lightly before cocking his head in front of him.

The eldest man, the one that seemed to be in charge, stepped back. The man on the left stepped forward, twisting the door knob with no such luck. He shrugged his shoulders, turning to the man on his right before giving him a quick nod.

The man stepped forward, raising his right leg before sending it smashing through the glass window with ease. The two men stepped back, glancing at the eldest and waiting for their next instructions.

He stepped forward, taking the black hat off of his head and handing it to the man on his right. His white hair moved slightly in the night air, his face set in stone as he began to unbutton his black coat. He reached a hand through the broken glass, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open.

He stepped inside, the broken glass crackling under his step as he glanced around. He raised an arm, telling the men behind him to stay back as he inspected the home.

Everything looked like anyone would expect it to look. There were family photos hanging on the wall, a wooden table with a set of keys and a vase of flowers placed on top, a neat pile of shoes and coats by the door.

The man continued to walk inside the humble home, leaving the two men to wait in the doorway. His steps were soundless, his eyes observing every little detail.

He turned back to face the men, curling his finger and telling them to come inside. They quickly obliged, stepping onto the already crushed glass and entering into the hall. The last one to enter slowly began to close the door behind him, therefore the neighbors wouldn't get suspicious.

The white haired man scratched his beard, glancing around the small hallway before taking a few steps forwards. He glanced up the stairs, turning to face the other two men and pointing forward.

The two men stepped forward, walking slowly up the silent steps while the white haired man followed. Their leather shoes padded across the hardwood floor once they reached the top, listening intently for any sign of movement.

"The bedroom," the white haired man spoke lowly.

He stepped forward, pushing the door open. He held up his hand behind him, telling the men to wait once again.

The television was on, a re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond playing. He smirked at the American show, stepping into the room.

The bed was unmade, a book left open and faced down laying by the pillows that were propped up against the headboard. There was box of half eaten strawberries sitting on the night side table and a pair of slippers on the floor.