HM Mafia Round #5 Mafia Hit: Study in Death

Weariness settled in on the guests in spite of the insanity of this night. It was nothing Marcus wasn’t accustomed to; he’d pulled plenty of all nighters, studying or working to pay off his tuition costs. Even so, he walked through the house in a daze as he struggled to resist the temptation to wander up to a bedroom and sleep.

Eventually Marcus came to what was probably once a study. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with hardcover volumes cased in red leather. There was a small fireplace on one wall, and Marcus imagined that the room must have looked quite cozy with a burning fire and a book. It reminded him of his own home, in a way; his father sitting in his favorite chair reading the sports page, his mother sitting by the fire working on her latest needlepoint. It was an oddly domestic room in this strange, cold house.

He made his way over to a huge mahogany desk scattered with papers and lined with framed black and white photographs. Marcus thought it odd that the desk was so cluttered in a house that was surely abandoned and wondered, not for the first time, what had happened in this place. He eased into the smooth wooden chair at the desk, which was unexpectedly warm and quite comfortable.

Perhaps it was just the room and the thoughts it evoked, but one of the photos, a black and white of a woman’s face, unsmiling and severe, reminded him of his mother in her youth. Mixed feelings of love and regret flooded Marcus, and he picked up the picture frame with a heavy sigh. She had wanted, no expected so much from him, and never quite forgave him for needing to forge his own path. She took his desire to run his own restaurant as an insult, after she and his father had given him every advantage to become a true success and credit to the family. Instead, Marcus was following his own dreams, switching his major over to business and learning as much as he could about his future trade. The fight that had ensued had been horrific, but Marcus had won his independence. Reconciliation, though, would be a long time coming.

As if in response to his now bitter mood, Marcus felt the room go cold all around him. He looked up, wary, and saw that the once pleasant room now seemed sinister, full of hidden shadows and lurking…

...what? What is lurking in this room?

Suddenly two freezing hands closed around Marcus’s neck, unyielding and relentless even as Marcus kicked and flailed frantically. Breathing was impossible and the cold was unbearably painful on his throat, but still he struggled wildly.

The hands did not give, and at last Marcus was still.

MEC 19 years ago