Jacob knocked the knife from the burglar’s hand, kicked him in the groin, and pinned him to the stained basement floor with his heavy foot. “Don’t worry, I won’t be calling the police,” Jacob whispered, flicking on the bare light bulb, and revealing the other would-be intruders hanging from meat hooks.
After disposing of the body, Lance went into the kitchen to clean the area where the intruder had been killed. Satisfying himself that no traces remained, he put the flyswatter away and went back to dinner.
“Honey, are you back yet?” I ask, as the living room door opens behind me. Someone appreciatively whispers “No…” into my ear.