The gathering

... mind your business, even if your son is being cooked alive.

They say revenge is best served cold, but i've always preferred mine piping hot. I stare at down him unforgivingly, smiling as Evan's eyes beg for mercy we both know he's not going to get. He messed with
the wrong woman. Pain contorts his face as he screams in agony, prompting me to increase the heat in the oven. My eyes glow with pleasure as he squirms from inside his fiery cage looking for a way to
escape.

Evan continues to shout at the top of his lungs, banging on the oven door from inside it. It's useless,
he's as trapped as I was when he assaulted me, stripping away my innocence. What hurt the most was
that I let myself be so vulnerable around him, to the point where he raped me. No more, I will end his
miserable life here and now, in the most excruciating manner possible. A loud knock on the door
interrupts my thoughts and I dash for the towel, wrapping it across the sides of the oven, effectively
dampening the noise from the man melting inside. I dust my self off and try to look composed, Evan
sure put up a fight before I shoved him into the oven. The visitor knocks again louder.

"Coming!"

Jeez, is roasting a man alive in peace too much to ask for? I walk briskly, tossing a small knife under a sofa nearby and i'm nervous by the time I get to the door. My heart sinks to the bottom of my
shoes when I stare through the peephole and see the big yellow letters on the back of the FBI agents'
windbreakers. It seems they are about to leave when one suddenly turns and hits the door with loud
rapport. I swing the door open and we all share a minute of unnerving silence, trying to find our tongues.

The taller one speaks first, sounding like he's had a sore throat for years.

"We had a call from the next house, something about someone screaming. Is there a problem?"

"No, nothing. I must have had the TV on too loud or something."

I add a fake laugh to try and ease them off but it doesn't work.The shorter and older looking woman
sniffs the air.

"Is something burning? I think we need to check the premises".

I block her way from entering and she shoves me aside, the man following through. They are a few
steps to the kitchen when I realize that some thing's off.

"Why are FBI agents responding to a home disturbance call? Shouldn't an ordinary policeman be here
instead?"

The man peeks into the kitchen, taking in the gory sight of his son, burned to a crisp, then they
look at me and I realize that they are not federal agents. The man suddenly yanks out a pistol from his
holster and I dash behind a couch as he lets off two rounds in my direction. The old woman rushes
towards me, surprisingly fast for her age and I immediately fly up the stairs, bullet rounds seeing me off.

She follows suit, foolishly thinking she has me with my back against the wall. The woman gasps in
surprise as she reaches the top of the stairs, staring at me in fear. I could get used to these fearful facial
expressions. She drops her gun and slowly raises her hands in surrender.

"Don't do anything stup-"

I squeeze the trigger, not allowing her to finish talking and the long barrelled shotgun I have
clutched in my arms goes off twice, putting multiple holes in her body. She jerks wildly in pain and falls
backwards. I follow her down the stairs, riddling her body with more bullets till she's lying on the cheap
rug at the bottom of the stairs, a bloody mess. Evan's dad is hiding now, waiting for his chance to
shoot.

I hold my gun up tactically, scanning my vintage themed sitting room for the slightest movement. He slips up and I see his shadow move behind the refrigerator. I noticed too late and he shoots, not
missing this time. I double back in pain, dropping my gun in the process. He dashes madly at me,
spewing profanities as he rams his fist into my face, time and time again until I can't move anymore.

"Look what you did to my boy, you b*****d!"

"H- he ha- had it coming!"

I manage to spurt out, smiling through a bloodied mouth. He looks at me with disgust, pointing his gun
at my head. I close my eyes and ready myself.

The sound of his empty clip as he pulls the trigger is music to my ears. I laugh loudly and he throws
the gun at my nose, breaking it. He rushes to grab my shotgun and I follow suit, lunging for his legs. He
topples over and we spend the next few minutes grappling. He eventually has me in a chokehold and
starts squeezing life out of me.

My vision starts to spot and I reach hopelessly for something to stab him
with. I see the glint of metal coming from under the sofa. I grab the shard immediately and deposit it in
his left eye. His screams permeate the air and he immediately lets me go. I stand up to feet and stab
him a few more times, disabling his arm and leg muscles. Then I stoop down until my face is right in
front of his, grinning from ear to ear.

"I wonder what old man meat smells like when roasted"

He screams louder as I drag him with his hair towards the kitchen.

Author's Note

Enjoy

Reviews

[The Unknown Sith]

Ok, I like this! Sick and twisted but deserved. Nice work.

[hasbibiii]

I think it's rather uncoordinated and random, I tried to leave it open to speculation but I must have gone overboard. Still a good story though, if you can maintain comfort till the end.