"On your knees!" the old man demanded, threatening us by pointing his gun at each one of us momentarily.

He called Isabella from where she was standing and Camilla back to the parlor, who cooperatively walked to beside me. We knelt to his command reluctantly.

He hadn't seen Noodles and Noodles yet, since the kitchen was out of his angle of view.

"How many of you are here?" He quizzed erecting his gun at Camilla's head.

"Just the three of us," she confidently lied.

"I'm asking one last time young lady. How many?" He cocked the gun still at her head.

The old fella looked serious. He looked like he would kill her any time. His index finger against the trigger, his gun angled right at her face, and he had already cocked the gun to prepare a bullet to strike any second.

I wasn't ready to be the cause of her death. I had caused enough already. Yet to utter a word, I thought. The old guy would kill her if he noticed that she was lying, and indubitably I would be the cause of whatever punishment that would be given to her. I kept my mouth shut.

Like she didn't care about her brains getting blown into shattered unequal pieces, she lied once again, "like I told you sir just the three of us."

What I hoped the most was Noodles not to appear. That her instincts would somehow alert her, or the loud shot that had almost deafened us.

For so far had my hopes risen. Just what we needed. Noodles, the cat, ran out of the kitchen its face tomato sauced like it had dug into a whole extra large pizza by itself and laid itself on the floor lazily.

The old man noticed it and switched his gauze back to Camilla. "Is that___"

No sooner had he completed his sentence, than Noodles appeared calling her cat's name.

Her mouth was full to the brim like an almost popping balloon, bubbling as her teeth chewed the standing food stuff. Some crumbles finding their way galloping outside her mouth. They must have assassinated the entire kitchen and left the old fella nothing to ever eat.

Exposing herself, the old man grinned crookedly.

She was quick to notice the awkward silence, and shot a glance towards us.

Her eyes went wide ajar after noticing the shotgun. Her eyes then automatically shuffled to the ceiling. Noticing the hole standing, it confirmed to her suspense that the gun was real.

She passed out, falling like a bag of rocks on the mahogany floor. She was so heavy that there was a semi-earthquake in the room.

Abruptly, we heard a loud squeaking sound followed by a snap. It sounded like it was from the ceiling, and sure enough it was. The chandelier was slowly disconnecting from the shot chain attaching it to the ceiling.

The old fella turned to the ceiling. Before he could maneuver himself away from the falling chandelier's perimeter, he was met by it right at the top of his head. Black out he went and dropped on the floor the chandelier laying on his back.

We exchanged glances and slowly got to our feet still doubting his unconsciousness.

"Is he dead?" Isabella whispered faintly.

"I wish," Camilla whispered back.

He was not bleeding but he was lying there inanimate moving not a single inch.

Camilla slunk for him and placed her hands on his neck.
"His pulse are beating. He is still alive."

"Let's get the hell out of here."

"Great idea."

Camilla ran for the kitchen to get some water, as both Isabella and I switched Noodles into a seating position. Spraying quick spritz of water on her face, she gasped a voluminous amount of air back to life.

"Is he dead.. Or am I?" We briefly explained how luck fell on us.

It had now begun drizzling, which was cue for a heavy rain. We had to be swift and cautious at the same time.

Camilla went back to the address and lead our way to where were supposed to.

"You mean you didn't hear the gun shot?" Isabella and Noodles argued as we trekked for the house's direction.

"I did I just thought that it was a storm or something you know."

"You would have caused Camilla's small head to get blown off. Who would be bringing me food while I'm busy doing Mrs Helen's punishments?"

"Camilla's head is not small."

"Yeah, if we compare it to yours then yeah."

"You are not suggesting I have a small head. Are you?"

"Small head, small brains, small IQ it is."

Their arguments were like a whole drama series, from one argument to a chain of arguments each comical and dramatic than the previous one.

"Here," Camilla said cutting of the ongoing argument. "Its supposed to be around," she navigated with her index finger.

There was a mailbox and the address was the exact one. "I guess we found it."

We were welcomed by a kaleidoscope of an archway, colourfully glowing its beauty. It was some sort of a short well trimmed colorful hedge leading to a vast, whitish, kingly gate. Behind it a palace like peak of a house visible.

I admired how the flowery hedge erected not a single leaf out of lane.

The vast metallic gate was smoothly sculptured with flowers and to our surprise it wasn't locked.

Camilla pushed it open and peered inside. "Cost is clear," we slunk in one after another each mesmerized than the previous.

The astonishing display of a well-undergone architectural designed house standing in front of us was like a castle. The walls were painted a smooth glowing snow white, crimson roofs, huge white curtained windows, a climbing kaleidoscope of flowers climbing walls, and bookended two dragon-shaped bluish gargoyles, one at the far right and another at the far left.

The owner must have loved flowers, like everything around was flowery and colorful.

Outside it there was well trimmed loan erecting creating a naturally view of green with a bricked alleyway to the front door. There was a rose flower shaped sculpture spitting water from it up and into a small pool radius around it at the far right of the compound, increasing to the taste of nature around the compound.

I begun to suspect that that would be the part where we would mouse-trap ourselves in someone else's mansion and we would get eliminated one by one. Like in horror movies. I couldn't say it out loud, but I toddled with wary in case anything would happen then my legs would be set to sprint.

The rain drops were getting heavier soaking us, so we had to work faster. Any second from then the rain that would fall would be intolerable.

We jogged up to the veranda. White tiled, pinkish ceiling, and a fluorescent bulb above our heads. The door in front of us, cotton white, frilled with golden linings.

Unlike the gate, the door was locked. We left Camilla to do her thing with the golden lock. She shoved out a wire from her back pocket and interjected it inside the lock.

It felt kinda stupid, like what were we thinking? That we would walk in there and find the author comfortably seated her ass on a coach a day before a storm apocalypse in downtown. Though I wished we would find something useful, everything about the mission was dubious.

It was beater than seating in class all day knowing that every guy I came across would get murdered. I thought for self convincing.

"Can you guys hear something?" Noodles enquired curdling her cat softly.

"If its your belly rumbling then yeah" Isabella answered teasingly.

"No, I'm serious"

Maybe it was her cat snoring deep asleep. I sharpened my sense of hearing after everything but raindrops noising and made a sound. It sounded like a car engine or something, and it was growing louder and louder by a second.

"Camilla!" Isabella whispered "Faster."

"I'm trying," still struggling to hack open the lock, Camilla answered.

A car screeched at the gate and immediately after, the gate yanked open. We hadn't thought or ran for our lives yet.

A lady clad in white, under a black umbrella jumped in and scuttled for the house disturbing her purse like she was looking for something.

I recognized her from her dressing. She was the lady from the police barrier earlier. She was the one that was being forced away from the barrier to uptown. Then, she must have found herself a way to where she wanted to go which turning out it was there.

We hadn't yet changed our gestures into less thief ones when she noticed us. Camilla was still in her lock hacking posture.

The lady whimpered and jumped backwards almost stumbling. "You.. You can take anything you want just let me take the ash," she stammered.

She was like in her late twenties, black eyes, pointed nose, an oval-shaped head, and olive toned skin.

Clearly, she thought we were thieves. Nice first impression to someone we would probably need help from.

"You can have the keys," she peered into her purse and shoved them out after scuffling with it for some seconds.

Flinging them to Isabella who was a terrible catch, they flew past and fell on the floor behind her. Camilla was already done with the hacking, "I just want the ash," the lady sounded nervous and desperate.

"So is this Cassie B Johnson's home?" Noodles enquired, the question that we were all anticipated to know more about, "like is she your mom or something?" she added after she noticed the awkward look in her eyes.

"No, my mother is dead. Its her ash I was coming for to properly dispose it, and besides her name was not Cassie it was Kate.. Kate F Smith," she sounded solemn that I felt for her.

I had never lost a parent, but by the way her eyes became water-filled fast I felt for her. She snapped out the sad memories and whipped of a tear that had already begun racing our, with her right hand.

"That name doesn't ring a bell at all. So, now if you will excuse me," she signed for us to excuse her.

We didn't do much of arguing nor questing. Turning out, I wasn't the only one who was suspecting that we were maybe on the wrong track. We were at rock bottom once again. The thought made me feel like tearing up my mind.

I immediately lost strength and sat on the floor my knees against my chest over thinking my seeming dull future. I couldn't ever hug again leave alone kissing, or talk to a guy for a period of unknown time maybe forever. Guys would fear me after knowing that. I would have to wonder lonely as a cloud for the rest of my screwed life. I would die without kids, nor a family I could call my own.

I couldn't have fallen for him in the first place, but he was so nice and handsome and... I caught tears escaping from where they were waiting to be opened for.

The lady got in and walked out with a wooden antique flask. She saw the long looks on our faces and empathized, 'did you lose someone too?"

"Something like that," Noodles answered.

"Where did you get that address?"

"In a book."

She sighed and we all gave her our ears. That sigh was a gesture to knowing something.

She said that she wasn't sure but, ages ago where their house stood there was a publishing company. It published books and newspapers and maybe that was the reason why the address appeared like that. Addresses in Mistyhills never changed what they did was multiply.

Well, that did help but not by solving our problems.

She thought for some seconds and added that we could consult an old man she knew in the town. He was the oldest and might have had something to share. That we could consult him on whatever we needed to know about the desolate house with a cock shaped wind vane at its top.

She gave us the address.

How delighted we all were after realising that it was the old fella we had left blacked out a few minutes past. What a good impression we had made.