A/N: Hello there, this is just a quick, short-ish update because I needed to break this original chapter into pieces for it was excessively long... So here ya go X3
"Okay, ladies and gents, let's get this party started," he muttered to himself grimly, bringing his rough, calloused hands together in a soft clap and rubbing them together in morbid anticipation. It was finally time to get rolling.
Reaching up, he adjusted the zoom on his night vision goggles and did a quick sweep of the house once more before slipping them off of his head and setting them on the thick tree branch beside him. He flicked open the buttons on one of the pockets on his pants and dug out a pair of tight, leather gloves, sliding them, in a quick series of fluid motions, over his hands, pulling them tight once he reached the wrist. He blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, hoping to adjust his vision to the scant light quickly so he could commence. There was no point in going on if he could not even see to act.
Sighing, his breath fogging out in front of him in a smoky, white cloud, he checked his belt for the items that he needed, already knowing that they were all there, but checking again regardless. It would have left him in a horrendous situation if he had gone ahead without something, and that was simply not acceptable. Everything had to be kept perfect; it was what his own standards called for after all. Not only that, though, but the truck was further up the road, within viewing distance from there, yes, but a decent walk nonetheless. He would rather not have to make it again, if he could help it.
Check, check, check, and check again, everything that he needed was on his person, for the most part. The items that he would need later were placed around the house itself, too large for him to have been bothered to carry around with him.
He closed his brown eyes after having checked everything, relishing in the cold air around him and the prospect of what was awaiting him that night. He had been waiting weeks for this moment, the anxiety slowing building until he was ready to burst! His muscles, even now, were tense with anticipation, his whole body just ready to snap into action.
But that was what he wanted the least, for his excitement would lead to fatal error and that was not a risk that he could take. It had been a while since the last time, god, it had been a while, but he was loathe to mess things up by acting like an overexcited fool and run head on in without thinking first.
However, he would not kill his enthusiasm completely, with the rush of adrenaline and that tantalizing fear that came along with it as well, because that was the best part.
Besides the job itself, that is.
He brushed the goggles off of the branch beside him, listening as they hit the frosty grass below with a soft thud. It was no concern of his whether they broke or not, they were a dime a dozen and he could get them by the crate-full if he needed to. The man then braced his hands on the branch on either side of himself and pushed off, his thick-soled boots hitting the hard-packed earth and the vibrations of the impact running up his legs in a delicious way.
He could not see much now, from his position on the ground, but his eyes had finally adjusted to the dark of the night and he was ready to rumble, no longer in need of the goggles he had brought with him. He bent over and plucked them up from the ground be the strap, taking them in both gloved hands and snapping the goggles in half as if they were nothing. There was no need to keep them if he was never going to use them again.
Shoving the pieces into his pocket, he proceeded to the house, bypassing the cornfield in between and heading straight for the yard, invisible in the darkness of the night.
This was going to be too easy, really.
Everything was completely silent inside the confines of the house, save for the soft buzzing of the refrigerator and Gordon's snores emanating from the master bedroom; but these sounds were a given, taken for granted for the lulling qualities that they possessed, giving the house a feeling of safety that was much overlooked by the inhabitants.
The house was cocooned in a bubble of electricity, a soft and almost unnoticeable buzzing of power that possessed the house night and day; heard primarily in the silence of the night, it lent to the buzzing that reverberated inside the refrigerator, the soothing whoosh of warm air as it was pushed through the vents by the heater, and to all the other sounds that existed in the house late at night when no one was conscious; except for the snoring, of course.
Yet no one seemed to take notice as all of these reassuring sounds died out, the electrified bubble that surrounded the house popping in an instant, taking with it all of the sounds attributed with a sleeping house; but it did not only take away the sounds, it took everything.
If anyone had chanced on being awake, they might have noticed the little green numbers of all the digital clocks blink once and then disappear completely, the red lights on the cable box fading to a deep orange, a dark, muddy yellow, and then finally to the powered down color of black, or even the whoosh of air let off by the desktop computer as it was forcefully shut off, the power it fed off of having been taken away.
However, no one was awake to notice these things, the darkening of bedrooms as alarm clocks switched off or as night-lights faded to black. No one noticed the deep, unsettling quiet that overtook the normal lulling buzz that encased their home; all that was left were the creaks and groans of the house as it settled.
Now perhaps the inhabitants noticed this dark, sudden change subconsciously; Andreas rolling over in his bed, yet not waking even the slightest, Simone's brow furrowing deeply in her sleep, and Hasan mumbling something incoherent as he slept in the bed across from Carsten; but it all could have been dreaming, their dreams affecting them in their unconscious state of mind.
Perhaps.
He set the wire cutters back where he had retrieved them from the rear of the house along with a few of the other items he had brought. It had taken next to no time to cut the power lines to the house, because he had already studied the plans and layouts of the house, so he knew where everything was located. It made his life so much easier when he knew where everything was and that way there were no surprises.
He stood a few steps away from the house, observing it with detached interest. From the back of the house he could see the sliding glass door that he knew led into the kitchen, a few various windows, one of which was, based on position and height, over the kitchen sink and too small for him to fit through, and then the garage.
The garage was the first thing that caught his undivided attention, because it was such a prominent feature standing out from the house. However he quickly dismissed it as soon as he noticed that there was no outer door for the outcropping structure, other than the large, metal, mechanical door, which was not feasible if he was working for complete silence.
He turned his attention to the back door of the house, observing the glass planes of the door and, from where he stood, the inside, or at least as much as he could see. Although it was easy to enter through, it was not the most optimal entrance due to the noise that he knew most sliding doors created, thus making it immediately not an option.
However, right next to the glass doors were windows that looked into an open breakfast nook, or at least this is what the floor plans had informed him was there beyond the glass. If it was true, then that there would be his best bet- minimal furniture, large windows, and they were close to the ground as well, making for easy access. Perfect.
He strode up to the first large window, cracking his fingers through the leather gloves out of habit as he went. There were three, very large glass windows looming in front of him, each one equipped with a screen on the outside and, from what he could tell by peering in, all of them were locked on the inside. Cupping his hands around his eyes and then leaning up to the glass, he took a moment to examine the kind of lock that he was working with. It was only a simple latch lock; the kind that was turned with the thumb to keep the window from being pushed up. It was easy enough to get open, as long as he could slide something up between the two panes to get at the lock.
From on of the slots in his belt he pulled a thin, rectangular object out, flipping open the knife component to reveal a long, gleaming, steel blade that shined in the almost nonexistent moonlight. It came in handy in almost all situations, which was exactly why he carried it around.
First he used the knife to pop the screws on the screens that covered the window, opting not the cut it because of the noise that it would create. After he popped the last screw out the screen, it all but fell into his opened arms, which he then gently set to the side, leaning it softly against the house. Pausing to listen for any sounds before he began, and hearing nothing in the following silence, he wedged the blade slowly up in between the two windows where they overlapped with each other. He caught the latch on the inside and dug the blade into it before he began to slide the knife left, watching as the little thumb switch on the other side of the glass turned slowly along with his movements. About a minute more passed before a soft click resounded on the other side of the glass window, the lock having been disengaged.
Bingo.
With a grim sort of satisfaction, he slipped the knife out from between the windows once more and folded it closed with his thigh, sliding it back into the belt cinched around his waist. He pressed his fingers against the cold glass and began to ease the window up slowly and silently. All he needed was a bit of a gap so he could slip his fingers in…
An opening, the thickness of a quarter, finally started to emerge at the bottom of the window as he continued to press it upwards in its frame, careful not to relieve any of the pressure he was putting on the glass with his finger tips for fear that the window would slide to a close. Gradually the opening widened with each passing second, becoming about an inch wide, just expansive enough for him to begin pushing his hand under.
Slowly, he increased the pressure on the window in his right hand and took his left hand off, watching as the window started inching to a close as he did so. However, it was unable to close all the way before he wedged his fingers into the opening and pried the window up at a more rapid speed, within seconds the opening becoming wide enough for him to step on through; which is exactly what he did, gently guiding the window to a close as soon as his boots met with a wooden floor.
With a soft click the latch lock was engaged and a crooked, virulent grin spread across his unshaven face.
Let the game commence.
Bill stirred slightly in his sleep; his leg slipping from the chair that he had gone to sleep on. It was a wonder that he was still sleep soundly on the chair and had not awoken hours ago and headed to his own bed. But perhaps that was for the better.
At the same time as the window near the kitchen was being slowly and silently inched open, Bill's subconscious mind was playing host to dreams that were strange and outlandish, even for one like him.
When he would awaken later, he would not, for the life of him, be able to tell anyone what he had dreamt, because the dream itself would already be completely faded from his memories, not even an image left for him to recall upon. Whether or not this was a good thing, he would never have the chance to know.
In the foreign dream of his, there were dozens of people, all of whom were simply standing there doing nothing but smiling sadly towards, it seemed, him. Where 'there' was, he did not know, or at least could not tell. All he knew for sure was that it was dark and he could not move or even speak; yet the people that filled his dream were slowly, without even moving, getting closer to where he presumably was. And it was quiet, quieter than any situation he had ever known.
And then they stopped, all heads snapping their attention in another direction towards a sound that went unheard by Bill. The expressions on all the faces - children, women, and men - morphed sluggishly from a bleak sort of cheer into something more sinister, a festering rage, a crazed animosity towards an entity, some thing, that Bill could not even begin to comprehend or see. Something he did not even realize was there.
The funny thing about it was, the dream was more real than he could have ever fathomed.
But then it was over, the entire scene in his sleep-fogged mind turning into something much more docile, a dreamscape more akin to its true definition.
Sweet dreams, Bill.
A/N: Chapter 4 should be up relatively soon, because it is basically already written.
Review please!
