The old bones of the villa floors wept and groaned as my footsteps patted along them to the large windows of my room. Blackened clouds loomed ominously in the sky, stifling blades of moonlight from above, and limiting my vision in the darkened night. I held still, hoping not to spot any figures moving in the dimly lit courtyard, and stalled for a moment to find my concerns assuaged. Maybe I'd just been imagining things?

  Suddenly, a swift shadow darted from behind a statue towards the house, and I lost sight of it. I gasped, startled, and retreated backwards. This was not the midnight intruder I was pining for.

  I quickly motored towards my door and gently turned the handle, peaking out sheepishly into the abyssal hallway, before holding yet again. Silence. I breathed relief, as I slipped out and crept to Jack's room. I tried the handle, but found it stiff and unmoving. It was locked. Great.

  “Jack,” I whispered, tapping upon his door.

  Nothing.

  “Jack,” I tried again, rapping louder, and exhaling a breathy sigh.

  Still nothing.

  SCREECH! The floorboards cried at the far steps. Again...and again, with slow ascent.

  It could've been Jack, but I wasn't going to wait to find out!

  I sped down the hall in the other direction, as quietly as I could, and deftly huddled behind an extravagantly constructed mahogany end table. Peaking out from behind, I watched as the shadowed figure appeared, sporting a black ski mask and a menacingly shiny knife that illuminated as he opened the door to my room and slipped in.

  With that, it was time to go! I turned round and trotted down the hall, heading for the stairs and flew down them silently, and into the kitchen, snagging a large knife from the wood block on the counter, it wiggling generously in my sweaty palms.

  Suddenly, another black clad figure moved in from a side room.

  I ducked behind the granite island, trying to stifle my hastened breaths with a firm hand clasped atop my mouth.

  Footsteps shuffled along the floor, drawing ever closer to my location.

  I gripped the knife firmly, as I held my breath, trying to wish away the fears of my looming demise, as the sounds grew louder with proximity. I pressed my eyes shut, feeling tears brimming within them as I waited for the moment to strike...if I could even do that. I'd never tried to hurt anyone before...not even an ant...but this...this was much different.

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  “Argh,” a muted guttural cry sounded, as a brief scuffle loomed behind me. After a moment, I looked out.

  Jack, wearing only tight clad boxer briefs, lowered the slumping assailant to the floor, in a tight sleeper hold. His eyes connected with mine, and he gave a tense nod of reassurance, bearing a grim demeanor.

  I nodded back, my grip loosening around the knife. I looked toward the steps I'd hurtled down and motioned one finger, indicating another intruder upstairs.

  Jack nodded affirmatively, and held a finger to his mouth to remain quiet, as if that wasn't already on my agenda.

  Suddenly, another intruder rounded from the corner and lunged forward, bearing his knife overhead, and arcing downward. Jack sidestepped and thrust an elbow straight into the assailants face, causing a cry in pain and sending him reeling to the floor.

  “Jack!” I whispered harshly, as the other assailant hurtled down the stairs and barreled towards him with his own knife in tow.

  Jack spun around, snagging the knife from the assailant on the floor and flipped it in his hand, parrying the incoming blow and slicing cleaning across the neck, before directing his blow downwards through the skull of the other one on the floor beside him.

  I was horrified, but thankful for his protection, yet again, as the assailant fell to the floor with a thud, grasping his own neck, trying to stave off death, but unlikely to succeed.

  “Do you think there's any more?” I choked out, my unbridled emotions welling up inside, but being forced down, as best as possible...which to onlookers, wouldn't have been at all.

  Jack quickly analyzed the room and our surroundings. “No,” he breathed out, “but we can't be certain.” Jack yanked out his knife from the head of his other victim and wiped the thick coat of blood off on the assailant's shirt, before turning back to me. “Stay here, for a second,” he said, and quickly charged down nearby halls, surveying the area around us for signs of anything out of the ordinary, or more intruders. After monitoring the adjacent areas for a brief period, he returned, always staying close by.

  I looked over the bodies in front of me, still staying far away in the kitchen, and hoping no rise of the dead would occur and worsen the night...for the both of us. Death had never been so close before today, and now, I'd seen numerous people killed in the span of twenty four eyes...less even. I'd always read about death in literature and the news, but nothing compares to actually seeing it before you. It was something I never thought I'd get used to...and quite frankly, hoped I never would.

  “It's clear,” Jack said, returning from his brief sabbatical.

  “Who are these people?”

  “Not sure,” Jack said, pulling off the ski mask from the knocked out assailant.

  A middle aged man, unconscious, lay before us. “Mafia maybe?”

  I moved closer, approaching with hesitation.

  Jack searched the persons of the two dead men, looking for any forms of identification, but came up empty handed. No tattoos, no affiliations...nothing.

  “What now?” I murmured, eyeing Jack for any sign of a new direction.

  Jack cracked his neck idly, looking over the group of men in thought. “Either way...” he said, whirling his knife towards the incapacitated man.

  “No, wait!” I yelped, gulping down fear that another man would be cut down in front of me.

  Jack eyed me confusedly. “I'm not going to kill him,” Jack said, tearing off several strips of cloth from the man's shirt with his knife. “In fact...we're gonna need him.”