Viscious 2: Cult of Kellan

Intruder.

"Dallas..." I whisper as I grab my prosthetic, shoving my leg into the contraption as I rise to my feet behind him. The dogs bark as the alarm screeches.

He stands with squared shoulders, cellphone in one fist and pistol in the other. He's softly illuminated by a tiny sliver of muffled window light that escaped from the tightly drawn shades. I slink up behind him gently, and touch my palm to his lower back. He releases tension under my touch and he turns to me from over his shoulder.

"Alina. Someone is in here." I nearly choke on the words as I take them in. Fear sweeps over me. Someone is in our home. Our newest home. It has happened again, and this time we are home. "I want you to stay here, Li. Here is my cell. If I'm not back in a few minutes, call the police again. The system should have ready alerted them and they'll likely be here shortly."

"No. I want to go with you. What if you get hurt?"

"What if you get hurt too?"

"Misery loves company." I try to joke despite my nerves to ease our tension. He kisses my forehead and lifts my chin.

"It will be okay. I love you. Stay here, please. I'll knock three times so you know it is me. Lock the door." His eyes are pleading, and I nod in agreement even though I have zero intentions of staying put.

As he shuts the door behind him, I find my small knife and I make my way to the bathroom. I'd love to have a mop or broom, but I grab a plunger.

He exits our room, shutting the door behind him and I do not lock it. Instead I listen, with my body pressed to the door. I dial the emergency number again as I slip out of the room softly, and I give them our address and situation. They have somebody already coming out to our house, but I feel better knowing that help will be here soon. I weild the plunger, and open the door without making a sound. The house is dark, and I cannot see or hear Dallas.

I walk by faith and memory, praying that I don't step on a squeaky toy or trip on a rug. My palms sweat abd my heart races, but I don't let lose of my weapon even to wipe my hands on my pajamas. I'm too focused on finding Dallas, or even the intruder at this point. I make my way past several rooms, and I use the dim light of the phone screen to check them as I pass. Nothing. Nobody. I know that a door was somewhere at some time though, because the barking of the dogs seems to come from the yard. Which makes me believe they raced out the door after the intruder and they jumped in and shut the door to block then out.

I go through the kitchen light as a mouse on my feet, and I find nobody. The places are narrowing down thst they all could be, and my heart slams in my ribs as anxiety increases. I'm bound to find them very soon. I'm not ready. What if I find something I don't want to? What if I distract Dallas abd get him hurt? Oh shit. I didn't think of that. My gut twists as I conjure up horrifying scenarios. Maybe this is just a common thief, looking to snatch a TV and leave. I would freaking give them the thing at this point just to get them to go.

I find Dallas in the livingroom, but I stand hidden by the threshold of the door as he searches the room. His bare back is turned to me, and a bit of light reflects off the smooth defined muscles as he moves. I want to run to him, and drag him back to our room to bolt the door, but I do not distract him. I just stand watching over him like a spector, plunger raised and phone in pajama pocket. I withdraw the small knife, and I fist it in my other hand. Breathe. Breathe. You can see him, he's alright. Dallas stands upright in the center of the room, and I blink as I swear I seen motion from around the couch.

In seconds, my nightmares come to life in the sound of a gunshot. Dallas collapses to the floor and I screech as a man rushes out from behind the couch and towards my direction. I want to run to Dallas, but I hold my place knowing that I am no good to him if I am shot too. I raise the wooden plunger handle and as soon as the man is in striking distance I slam my weapon violently into the side of his head. He trips over my foot and I tackle him to the floor.