The downfall of Noah Claypole
Noah Claypole peeked out the window from behind the curtain. He could barely see across the street, it was so foggy. He thought he'd grab a book and read out on his front porch.
Noah closed his book. A mediocre ending, but he gave it seven stars out of ten. He was feeling good, since it was now about Saturday afternoon, and he thought he'd grab some lunch at Subway. But no sooner had he lifted himself off the chair that he heard a marching sound coming from down the street, though he couldn't see the source. It seemed suspicious, so he sat back down, pulled his hat mostly over his eyes, and pretended to be asleep. Three people carrying automatic weapons over their shoulders slowly marched out of the mist. He recognized them as Charlie Bates, Toby Crackit, and Edward Leeford. He prayed they'd march right past him. He closed his eyes as they came closer. March. March. March. March. Nothing. "Shoot!" He thought.
"Noah Claypole?" That was Edward, or "Monks".
"Oh not good, not good. NOT GOOD!" he thought, but tried to keep a blank face and remained "asleep". He heard them talk among themselves.
"You sure this is the guy?"
"Definitely."
"If you say so. Fire a warning shot." A gunshot rang through the air and a millisecond later a bullet whizzed by his ear and splintered the wooden wall next to him. Noah sprang into the air.
"Okay, I'm up, Jesus! What do you want!?"
"Your life, Noah."
"What the-" but before he could say a word, the three lowered their guns until they pointed directly at his chest, and fired.