One day, I was walking up a backroad in Dade county, and I came across an abandoned house. Its roof had caved in, and I could hear old rotting wooden planks creaking in the wind. There was a rickety old fence around it, with the corner posts leaning over lopsidedly. There was poison ivy climbing up the walls that were left, along with some other plant I could not identify. A sickly sweet aroma entered my nostrils as I cautiously approached the old house.
As I got closer, I realized something was burning. I slowly walked around the house, and as I did, I heard a faint hissing noise. I looked down and stomped on the creature that was undoubtedly a snake.
Once done killing the startling reptile, I resumed my walk around the house. The more I saw of it, the clearer it became that this was totally uninhabitable. After making a complete three-sixty around the house, I walked up to the front door, of which the bottom hinge had deteriorated.
As I walked up the cold concrete steps, I noticed two things.First of which was that the concrete had many cracks running through it. The second was far more interesting. There was a thick coat of dust, dirt, and other grime covering the slab of concrete I had no other name for but a porch, as any ancient house in the middle of nowhere would have. The curious thing, though, was the foot shaped clean spots going up the steps.
At first, I considered leaving, but my curiosity quickly won me back. I entered the door, putting a rock there to keep it open. I then continued deeper into the house. As I looked outside through one of the shattered windows, I saw that it was sunset, and it was mid-October. I had better hurry up or it would get dark. I was going into a bedroom when I heard the front door slam.
Just as I was telling myself that the wind had blown the door over the rock, the sickly sweet smell entered my nostrils again, this time overpowering. I heard a gruff voice mutter something about “Them never findin me.” I realized the truth in that moment. This house wasn’t abandoned at all. It was simply meant to look like it were abandoned. Then I recognized the invasive smell. It was one that I would encounter when in a questionable gas station or smoking establishment. It was the smell of Shard, more commonly known as crystal meth or methamphetamines. Another disturbing fact was the smell this guy had on him. Obviously, his mind was dearanged from lifelong illicit drug use.
As all of these facts were clicking into place, he had been sneaking up behind me with a long, brutish gun in hand. I heard a distinct click of what could only be a high-powered rifle being cocked, possibly a 270. I spun around and saw my adversary. He was at least six and a half feet tall, and had a long scraggly beard. His hands were calloused from carrying around firearms and handling heavy equipment. He then uttered something about ‘you people always tryin to arrest me an throw me in the big house. Well that aint gonna happen. Ever.” He took aimed as quickly as his abused brain could instruct his hands to move and fired.
-Gabe