He tore off his shirt. Out of the torn cloth, he made a doll. After completing the doll, a menacing smile crept over his face.
“Mr. Christopher Anderson, it's your turn now” he said fanatically to the doll.
A police staff on duty darted to the phone to report this to his senior.
Christopher was sitting in his foyer, drinking, and smoking tensely. He seemed to be tired. Lazily, he got up and walked around the room. He sat on a chair, drowned in his thoughts. Suddenly, he sensed somebody’s presence in the kitchen. The sound came in as if somebody was dealing with kitchen utensils.
Who would be in the kitchen at this hour?
Every door and windows was already closed...
Or is this some kind of hallucination?
Suddenly, the loud sound came of some utensils falling to the ground from the kitchen.
He got up.
His heart started pounding heavily.
He felt he was in fear unnecessarily... It must be something else he hears the like cat or...
He tried to console himself and calm down.
Christopher slowly approached the kitchen. Silence! All sounds had stopped.
Christopher opened the kitchen door ajar and peeped in.
There was nobody inside...
Warily, he entered the kitchen and looked around. There was nothing. He took a walk around.
Where is it?! There was nothing!...
Or, am I getting hallucinations?
But there was a utensil on the ground.
As he turned to leave, he heard something breaking in the foyer. Christopher, startled, rushed towards the foyer.
As he came in the foyer, he found his glass had fallen on the ground and broken. Whisky was soaking into the carpet. He looked around. There was nobody.
Christopher’s face started fading with menacing expressions. The effect of whisky was totally gone.
What's going on?
What's happening to me?
How the hell did this glass fall onto the ground?
He sat on the chair, again drowned in his thoughts. He picked up the whisky bottle and started to drink big swigs directly from the bottle.