Shattered glass

Prologue

Normally my life so hideously boring, I never even wanted to think about it. Yet today was the start of a new day, a new job application sent, and I was on my way to the part time job I had that would soon no longer exist. The manager had taken a funny turn, his strokes were always quite persistent and unpredictable, it wasn't quite as much of a shock as I'd of thought it would be to hear that he had suffered from another. The shock was the news of his death.

“Mr Bowes? Remember that there’s a new delivery of that 1920's antique brooch?” I called into the dusty and strangely empty shop. Something wasn't right, it was never this silent, Mr Bowes was always whistling, cracking jokes the instant I walked in. But where was he now?

“I'm afraid to say Mr Bowes is not here.” A dark figure sneered, staring into the darkness. I felt my breathing become uneven, all I needed was a sarcastic, sadistic pig mocking me.

“Where’s my manager?” I stammered, quickly turning on the light switch.

“Well you should know shouldn't you?”

 “Should know what?” I snapped, outraged by his presence.

 “Well the fact he is dead.” My body froze in horror, as I thought about how such a thing could of happened to such a man of good will.

“How and when?” I squeaked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Last Monday.” Was the reply of the dreaded figure.

 Impossible. I can remember going to the doctors with him the previous day, for his routine check up and the results shown that he was perfectly healthy, although he'd had quite a few strokes. But he was told it was highly unlikely he would suffer another stroke, since his body had repaired so well. My limbs slowly started numbing as the rush of emotions started to take control over my body. “How did he die?” I mumbled, my throat closing up on me as I spoke.

“Stroke.” He smirked, sending a violent shiver of disgust down my spine.

And that was when I remembered his crooked, vicious face.