Chapter 3 - The Broken Front Door
Downstairs in the living room, Mark abandoned the kitchen after realizing Sarah had slipped away from his grip. He hunted her down near the foyer, his eyes wild with adrenaline and suspicion. Without a moment of hesitation, Mark grabbed Sarah by the collar of her light blue button-down shirt and violently hurled her to the polished hardwood floor. Sarah let out a sharp cry as her elbow took the brunt of the fall, sending a wave of agony through her already battered body.
Mark stood over her, breathing heavily, raising his hand to deliver a punishing blow.
“Lock the door! I’m coming!” Mark shouted into the empty air, though there was no one else in the house to command.
Before his hand could descend, a deafening crash echoed through the foyer. The heavy wooden front doors blew wide open, splintering the deadbolt from its frame as they slammed against the interior walls. Mark froze, his arm suspended in mid-air, and slowly turned his head toward the entrance. Dust particles danced in the harsh evening light pouring through the threshold, illuminating three towering men dressed in immaculate black suits who stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the entryway.
At the center of the formation stood Grandpa Arthur. His white hair was neatly combed, and his black suit was tailored to absolute perfection, but his facial expression was a terrifying void of mercy. Arthur did not flinch, nor did he raise his voice. He simply walked past the shattered doorframe, his leather shoes clicking methodically against the hardwood floor as he closed the distance between himself and Mark, who was now stumbling backward in sheer terror.
Sarah lay crumpled on the floor, holding her bruised face and weeping quietly in relief. Mark tried to puff out his chest, attempting to regain a shred of authority in his own home.
“This is private property! You’re trespassing!” Mark stammered, pointing a shaky finger at the elderly man.
Arthur stopped just two paces away, looking down at Mark with eyes that had witnessed centuries of human betrayal.
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“You forgot who owned this house, Mark,” Arthur said softly, before a sudden metallic click echoed from behind him as the other two men drew their weapons.
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