The clock struck twelve. Detective Bell jumped up from his desk, startled. Quickly, he ducked behind it and without a second thought his hands reached for his gun which was always in the upholstery at his waist.
"Who's there?" he asked. His eyes swiftly scanned the dark office. There was a clatter of tins.
"Identify yourself!" he shouted into the seemingly empty room. Who could have so brazenly broken into his office; skillfully evading the expert security at his PI firm?
There was a shuffle of paper and then the office fell silent.
Bell rubbed his eyes hoping to speed up the process of them adjusting to the dark. A scratching sound followed by bare footsteps on wooden floor broke the silence. The steps were getting closer. Had they finally caught up to him? Did the killer finally catch on? But how? Bell shrugged off the nervousness that slowly crept up his spine. Whatever the case was, he definitely wasn't going down without a fight. The detective clutched the gun tighter. There was only one way to find out who was in his office.
Bell drew three short breaths, and counted to ten.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath. Without warning, he lurched from behind where he was hiding, firing three shots in the direction he had heard the footsteps. A frightened shriek woke the night as Lucky the unlucky cat sunk her claws into Detective Bell's face.
"Aaah! God damn it! Get it off!" blinded by the cat's fur, he stumbled over the trash bin, crashing into a box containing a few case files he was working on. Thick, red blood trickled down his face from his failed attempt at trying to yank the cat off.
"Where the hell is security?" he boomed. As if on cue, the office door came crashing down.
"Who's there?" the burly guard asked in a muffled voice. Bell's blood boiled as he imagined the guard standing there with a donut stuffed between his lips, wearing that same stupid, ignorant look he always wore.
"Well dont just stand there you ignorant ass!" he hollered at the top of his voice, "Get over here and help me!" the guard recognizing his employer's voice, quickly rushed to his aid.
"Aaah!" Yelled Bell as the guard pulled at the feline. Lucky hissed but her claws refused to budge.
"Be careful you wretched idiot!"
"Sorry boss," replied the unapologetic employee. Was that a hint of humor in his tone Bell had detected? No matter, he would fire him first thing tomorrow.
"For Pete's sake! Grab his tail and yank it man!" the frustrated detective shouted in desperation at his subordinate. As if apprehensive of their plan, the,cat made a spiral leap in mid-air, clawing the security's neck in the process.
"Aaah! Bloody pussy I'll-,"
"Don't just stand there you blubbering oaf! Help me!"
"Sorry boss...um, what exactly should I do?" Bell could not believe his luck. Of all the dimwitted people in the world, why did he find himself stuck with this one at a time like this? Bell shook his head letting out a deep sigh in the process.
"Just grab the paper towel and give it to me." While the guard went to fetch it, the detective eyed the cat attentively. The cat, who had landed daintily on all four paws regarded him with the same level of interest. Slowly, the feline began circling Bell like a lion mocking its injured prey before going in for the kill. The old grandfather clock chimed in the hallway signalling the arrival of a new hour. The detective eyebrows furrowed in confusion? 'It couldn't be 1 o'clock already,' he thought to himself, 'The clock had barely struck twelve just a few minutes ago'.
"I wonder if its broken again?" Bell wondered out loud. But the clock had only just returned from its tuneup this morning. Then what-
"Found 'em boss," his thoughts were cut short by the arrival of the guard.
"Took you long enough," he muttered catching the roll of paper the guard threw at him. Bell rolled his eyes as he sopped up the almost dried blood. Now wasn't the time to reprimand the guard for his sloppiness. He secretly questioned why he hadn't sent him for a firstaid kit instead.
"Say," he began, breaking the silence in the room. The guard watched him with intent eyes.
"What time is it on the grandfather clock?" he asked out of morbid curiosity. Although the clock was an antique, it really didn't pay to constantly have it repaired.
"Its-,"
"Time for you to die!" Before either two could discern where the voice had come from, they were dead.
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