The lone figure, stood on the hill, behind the house , looking down. He had been there for several hours, watching as the party lingered on.
As he surveyed the scene the discarded bottles of whiskey and beer were evident. Several cars were still parked haphazardly on the lawn. Earlier he had observed several deputy sheriff's ride by and look at the house. They slowed but did not stop.
The figure slowed his breathing even more, and started working his way toward the house. Though clothed in black, he stayed in the shadows as much as possible. The katana was strapped securely to his back, Wakizashi at his side and Tanto across his waist. Though he carried weapons ancient in origin he had strapped to his right leg a .357 Desert Eagle. He did not usually favor automatics as they had a tendency to jam at the most inconvenient times.
As he approached the house he stopped and listened. Detecting nothing he moved forward. Though well over two hundred pounds he was light on his feet . Nor was he overly concerned about being detected. He knew the occupants of the residence had been drinking and consuming drugs for hours and were probably passed out.
As he approached the sliding glass door on the side of the house he caught his reflection for a moment. Touching the door with a gloved hand he applied pressure and it slid open. He entered, drifted to the right and placed his back to the wall. Listening intently he took in the silence.
more to come .................
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