The Visitor
The kid who’d been paid to remove the lightbulb as a prank had done well. A trailer at the edge of the woods was the target. Tracy Martin lived there. Who would think such a weak mannered girl would be a threat? Clouds in the late night sky made the home even harder to see. The person inside would soon be out like the light also. It was a message. They needed to stay out of the territory.
Despite being careful, footsteps still made the old wood deck creak and moan. Raising a black gloved hand, the visitor knocked on the door. Applause from some game show on a television could be heard through the thin walls. It suddenly stopped, the person inside either turning it off or just lowering the volume. Stomps signaled someone was approaching.
The front door opened. “Hi, come on in,” the young woman greeted, and pushed the screen door wide so they could step inside.
She turned her back and the visitor followed.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” The woman slipped on a pair of high heels. “Do you want a drink before we go?”
“Sure, why not.” Her invited guest shut the door and quietly locked it as Tracy grabbed a bottle from a kitchen cabinet near the sink. The house had an open floorplan with the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. A very small space where moving boxes littered the floor.
“How long have you been here?”
“A couple months.” She motioned to the mess. “But with work and everything, I just haven’t had a chance.” Her outreached hand held a drink. “Wow, you’re wearing gloves already?”
“I haven’t gotten used to the cold yet.” The drink was now in hand but soon set on the counter.
“It’s crazy how you adapt to the weather. In spring, it hits thirty-two degrees and we think it’s a heatwave. It drops to fifty in the fall and we have the gloves and coats on.”
“Yes. So are you ready to go?”
Tracy took a sip from her glass. “I thought you wanted a drink.”
“I changed my mind. Since I’m driving, I’d better not risk it.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Probably a good idea.” Tracy set her glass on the counter. “Let me get a jacket.” She turned and her visitor struck. The prick of a needle hit the side of Tracy’s neck.
“Ouch.” Her hand reached for the spot and was met by a syringe held by a gloved hand. “What the…? What are you doing?” she screamed, her mind not comprehending what was happening. The attacker wouldn’t let go until all of the drug was in. It was very powerful, so not much was needed.
Tracy panicked. The fight or flight response kicked in. With labored breaths she fought back. With all her might she pushed back and shoved her assailant up against the counter and they grunted in pain. It was a brief victory.
Tracy shivered as her body quickly chilled. She was nauseous. Whatever was in the needle was now flowing through her system with a vengeance. Her fingers shook. The room swam. Her assailant released her, but what good was it now. There was no victory to be had. The damage had been done. But why? Tears flowed from her eyes. Tracy staggered to the dining room table and slowly turned around.
“What are you doing?” Her mouth felt like cotton. Her vision blurred.
“You took something that I wanted.” The voice was unhuman.
“What?” Her fading consciousness wrangled with why this was happening but no ideas came to mind. Suddenly, the room went black. She hit her head on the corner of the table as she wilted to the ground. There was a sickening thump as her body hit the cheap orange shag carpet covering the floor. Her hand made a feeble attempt to reach the bump that would soon form on the back of her head but it went limp.
“You took something that I wanted. This is my territory. Not yours. Not anyone else’s either.” Tracy’s accoster tried to justify what they’d done. “Mine, not yours.” Dark eyes spied the couch. There was a pillow. It would be over soon. People needed to be warned, to be taught a lesson. As the pillow was laid over Tracy’s face, a smile lit up her killer’s face. One enemy down.