Artwork of Brutus
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The downpour of thunderstorms made it all that much worse as I was grieving over the loss of my dear husband, Brutus. What a peculiar guy my husband was. He always had a way of creating bloodcurdling pieces of art. As I sat in what used to be his favorite rocking chair, I couldnt help but stare at all the ghouls, goblins, and zombies that surrounded me. Looking at every detail he so carefully expressed on each and every one of their faces. The zombie statues were my personal and utmost favorite pieces. He had everything down to a tee from the decaying flesh, to the eyes that looked as if they were so surreal that if they were youd look away in fear of this being your last glance at reality, before this flesh eating monster took you away. I for one could look into the eyes of this statue and see nothing but the pain that endured him, my husband. All I saw was that of him.
Late one evening, as I lay in bed I heard a sudden thud. I panicked as any normal person would, considering the time of night. I grabbed the gun from the top dresser and ran downstairs to find someone had broken into the house. I looked all around me and saw that some of the statues were missing. I ran upstairs immediately to contact the authorities about what happened. “Beep”, and a long pause following up with another “beep,” a strange man answered the phone; he didnt sound as if he was in the right state of mind. As all I appeared to hear was the sound of him breathing heavily into the phone, it gave me a sort of chill. I started to stutter ” Is-ss something going wrong? My house just got broken into while I was asleep, I looked around the house and I didnt see anyone, is their anything you can do?” The man on the other side of the phone just started to breath harder and harder, I heard a high pitch squeal from the man, none like I have ever heard before, but it then again sent chills down my spine. The man hung up, as I was left shaken in the middle of the night with no one to protect me. I started to cry for my husband Brutus, “Why did you have to leave me here?” I kept on with this fiasco crying hysterically, wishing their was just some way I could have said goodbye to him, or at least been able to revive that of my dead husband. As I kept in my over flooding of tears for my beloved husband, I heard another thud, this time it was earsplitting. I rushed to grab the phone, I heard the thud once more but it seemed as if this time it had came nearer. I looked all around the pitch-dark room, to come to see nothing. I began to head toward the light switch as I trembled along the way; I tripped and fell over the wire connecting to the lamp that sat onto the coffee table. I attempted to get up, but the agonizing pain I felt in my right ankle just kept getting worse. I managed to drag myself to the couch in which then I pulled myself up on to the couch, reaching for the light switch