Post by jamesmueller on Oct 18, 2018 21:50:27 GMT -5
GASP.
James Mueller sits up in bed, gasping for air and the top of a blanket sliding off his chest into his lap. He places his hand over his chest, trying to calm his heart down. James wipes the sweat off his brow. He illuminates the dark bedroom with his phone, checking the time. James lets out a groan, palms the right side of his face, and then swings his leg out off of the bed. James lifts himself up to his feet, lets out a loud long yawn while he stretches his back and his legs. He lets out a soft groan as he slowly shuffles into the bathroom. James flips on the bathroom light and lifts the toilet seat. He audibly begins to pee into the water of the bowl. He begins to fall asleep standing up, but is jolted awake at the noise of something moving outside. He stops mid-stream, looks over his right shoulder, and then continues to pee. Another noise from outside. James takes a couple steps back and peers out of the bathroom door, still audibly peeing into the bowl from a few feet away. He steps back in, flushes the toilet, and turns off the bathroom light. He takes a couple steps out of the bathroom and suddenly a louder crash of metal outside fully wakes him up.
What the shit?
James walks over to a dresser, opens up the top drawer, and pulls a pair of boxers out. He looks out of the bedroom door towards the hallway and pulls more and more boxers out of the top drawer. About 22 boxers deep, he pulls out a shiney silver-looking revolver. He flips open the cartridge and loads the revolver. He clasps it with both hands, finger off the trigger, and slowly makes his way out of his bedroom. Anonymous noises can be heard from outside. Down the hallway, a glimpse of his living room is slightly illuminated by a pale blue light from outside. Shadows move across the floor. James cocks the hammer of his revolver as he stealthily walks down the hallway. He stops at the end, and peaks around the corner towards the kitchen. The shadows are gone but metal rattling can still be heard from outside. James glaces over to the living room and the front door, then back to the kitchen and the backdoor. Both doors are shut with no signs of anyone entering. James walks over to the back door, creaks it open, and takes a step outside.
The rattling stops. James quickly glances around the fenced-in backyard as the cold air makes his breath easily breathable. He takes another step out to fully exit his house. He quickly glaces back and shuts the door behind him, and turns back to the dark yard. He can barely the back fence in the dark, with a number of bushes covering parts of the fence to begin with. A loud metal rattle to his right grabs his attention. He quickly turns to his right and points the gun in that direction. Around the corner of the house, a trash can falls over into view to James. James rushes over and points the gun at the trashcans...
And at a fat raccoon. The fat raccoon stands on a tipped over trashcan with a half-eaten piece of pizza in it's mouth. The fat raccoon slowly turns and locks eyes with James. The pizza slides out of the fat raccoons mouth and paws and falls to the ground. James lets out a loud sigh, scratches his head with the end of the barrel of the gun, and then un-cocks the hammer of the revolver. The fat raccoon flips James off and goes after the pizza he was eating before he was rudely interrupted. James turns back and walks to the back door. He pushes open the already open back door with no second thought, and places the gun on the counter next to him. He stands there with the door open, not moving, just breathing...
James turns on the kitchen light. At his feet he stands in a trail of blood, leading into the house from outside. In front of James, on the kitchen island, lays a deer carcus, ripped open from the outside. Blood oozes and drips from the carcus to the tiled floor. The deers head hangs off the side of the island, still attached to it's body, and his tongue hangs out freely. James notices the trail of blood continues past the deer. He shuts the kitchen door behind him, locks it, and then starts following the trail of blood out of the kitchen and into the living room. As the trail starts to lose blood quantity, it's more and more apparent that the trail are actually tracks... The tracks of a bear.
Goldy...
James follows the tracks all the way to the open front door, where he stops. He eyes the trail as it leads out into the woods across the drive from his house. James shuts the front door and locks himself inside. He walks back to the kitchen and opens a cabinent. He pulls out a bottle of Wild Turkey 101 and a whiskey glass, and pours a drink. He drinks the entire glass, burps, shuts off the kitchen lights, and walks back to his bedroom with the whiskey bottle in his hand.
Fucking bears.
James Mueller sits up in bed, gasping for air and the top of a blanket sliding off his chest into his lap. He places his hand over his chest, trying to calm his heart down. James wipes the sweat off his brow. He illuminates the dark bedroom with his phone, checking the time. James lets out a groan, palms the right side of his face, and then swings his leg out off of the bed. James lifts himself up to his feet, lets out a loud long yawn while he stretches his back and his legs. He lets out a soft groan as he slowly shuffles into the bathroom. James flips on the bathroom light and lifts the toilet seat. He audibly begins to pee into the water of the bowl. He begins to fall asleep standing up, but is jolted awake at the noise of something moving outside. He stops mid-stream, looks over his right shoulder, and then continues to pee. Another noise from outside. James takes a couple steps back and peers out of the bathroom door, still audibly peeing into the bowl from a few feet away. He steps back in, flushes the toilet, and turns off the bathroom light. He takes a couple steps out of the bathroom and suddenly a louder crash of metal outside fully wakes him up.
What the shit?
James walks over to a dresser, opens up the top drawer, and pulls a pair of boxers out. He looks out of the bedroom door towards the hallway and pulls more and more boxers out of the top drawer. About 22 boxers deep, he pulls out a shiney silver-looking revolver. He flips open the cartridge and loads the revolver. He clasps it with both hands, finger off the trigger, and slowly makes his way out of his bedroom. Anonymous noises can be heard from outside. Down the hallway, a glimpse of his living room is slightly illuminated by a pale blue light from outside. Shadows move across the floor. James cocks the hammer of his revolver as he stealthily walks down the hallway. He stops at the end, and peaks around the corner towards the kitchen. The shadows are gone but metal rattling can still be heard from outside. James glaces over to the living room and the front door, then back to the kitchen and the backdoor. Both doors are shut with no signs of anyone entering. James walks over to the back door, creaks it open, and takes a step outside.
The rattling stops. James quickly glances around the fenced-in backyard as the cold air makes his breath easily breathable. He takes another step out to fully exit his house. He quickly glaces back and shuts the door behind him, and turns back to the dark yard. He can barely the back fence in the dark, with a number of bushes covering parts of the fence to begin with. A loud metal rattle to his right grabs his attention. He quickly turns to his right and points the gun in that direction. Around the corner of the house, a trash can falls over into view to James. James rushes over and points the gun at the trashcans...
And at a fat raccoon. The fat raccoon stands on a tipped over trashcan with a half-eaten piece of pizza in it's mouth. The fat raccoon slowly turns and locks eyes with James. The pizza slides out of the fat raccoons mouth and paws and falls to the ground. James lets out a loud sigh, scratches his head with the end of the barrel of the gun, and then un-cocks the hammer of the revolver. The fat raccoon flips James off and goes after the pizza he was eating before he was rudely interrupted. James turns back and walks to the back door. He pushes open the already open back door with no second thought, and places the gun on the counter next to him. He stands there with the door open, not moving, just breathing...
James turns on the kitchen light. At his feet he stands in a trail of blood, leading into the house from outside. In front of James, on the kitchen island, lays a deer carcus, ripped open from the outside. Blood oozes and drips from the carcus to the tiled floor. The deers head hangs off the side of the island, still attached to it's body, and his tongue hangs out freely. James notices the trail of blood continues past the deer. He shuts the kitchen door behind him, locks it, and then starts following the trail of blood out of the kitchen and into the living room. As the trail starts to lose blood quantity, it's more and more apparent that the trail are actually tracks... The tracks of a bear.
Goldy...
James follows the tracks all the way to the open front door, where he stops. He eyes the trail as it leads out into the woods across the drive from his house. James shuts the front door and locks himself inside. He walks back to the kitchen and opens a cabinent. He pulls out a bottle of Wild Turkey 101 and a whiskey glass, and pours a drink. He drinks the entire glass, burps, shuts off the kitchen lights, and walks back to his bedroom with the whiskey bottle in his hand.
Fucking bears.