My Ex boyfriend Is A Pycho

Chapter 24-Back to the old guy

She toddled back into the house. In not more than a minute she walked out with three differently colored umbrellas. Guessing she noticed how soaked we were. She took one for herself and gave us the remaining two to share.

"I can give you a ride out of town, if you don't mind. It's not safe."

Well, no. We knew there was danger, but we needed answers and there was no way we were getting out of the town without them. Getting soaked for a day was more than worth it for many guys lives in the future.

She waved us goodbye through her driver's window as she drove off. We waved back.

Isabella shared an umbrella with you know who. Noodles. While Camilla and I shared a vast bluish one that enveloped us from shoulder to shoulder.

"Should we go in and just ask him to give us the information?" Camilla suggested out loud, " I mean if he is still alive."

"Yeah, sure. Then we would walk out headless," Isabella remarked skeptically. It was comical but the headless part sent chills cuddling my spine.

"Let's do it the bad girls way," Isabella plagiarized a line from a movie, I couldn't recall which one but it sure meant torture the old guy, with a devilish smirk plastered across her face.

We borrowed a duct tape from a nearby broken into hardware store where we found nobody but a corpse. Glad it wasn't butchered. It was a male figure and had bluish fingers. Meaning that the person was suffocated to death.

I almost threw up. Noodles threw up.

We couldn't stay there and draw a plan from there. We were not safe, not in a hardware store where someone had been murdered by nobody knows who. Who knew what lurked out there or in the store somewhere watching us silently?

We didn't need much, just the duct tape and we were out.

A plan was hatched by the worst planners. Noodles and Isabella, they couldn't let us talk as we walked for the old guy's place. For a moment I had confused it for a movie. One with six hundred soldiers versus one old grandfather with a shot gun. It was the most suicidal plan I had ever heard of in my entire life. It was like confronting the devil in his own premises and expecting to get away with it.

The door was still wide ajar, exactly like we had left it or at least that was what we thought. Peering in, we could see the fallen chandelier still on the spot in the middle of the parlor, the broken ceiling as we had left it, but the old fella was nowhere to be seen.

We slunk in. Others like me tiptoeing slowly by slowly, animatedly taking a step after the another. The shot gun was also nowhere to be seen so the old fella might have been knowing that we were back.

The thought of sprinting away from there and never to appear again hit me like a construction truck, but I couldn't leave my friends. They were doing it for me. I sighed, and gave myself hope of making it out alive.

Isabella gestured using her hand, like soldiers, for us to split up. That was definitely not going to happen. Neither of us wanted to be murdered one after another alone silently.

She could have argued, but the fact that we needed not to be heard she kept quiet and groaned.

I gestured for us to start by checking him out in the kitchen. If he wasn't there, then we would take some knives with us for safety purposes. If the knives were not there, then we were toasted.