Allison sat up bolt straight in her queen size bed, every nerve in her body on fire. She had the oddest feeling that someone was in her house. She slid her hand under her pillow, and slowly removed her Beretta 92sf and made sure it was loaded and ready to go. Listening intently she heard the faintest whisper of denim rubbing together.  Creeping out of bed, she walked into her bathroom, grabbing her cellphone off the nightstand. She dialed 911.
               

“Hello, 911 how may I help you?”
          “Yes, Hi, someone’s broken into my home, I need backup immediately, and possibly an ambulance.” She whispered fervently into her phone, a slight creak of her stairs made her panic. “I have to go, hurry!”

It was only an afterthought that Allison realized she’d never given them her address. Well, I suppose they could just trace it, was the only way she thought to justify such a huge mistake. She listened as whoever was in her house, crept down the hallway attempting to be stealthy, and failing. Raising her pistol so that she was ready to shoot if necessary, she inched towards the bathroom doorframe. Her door squeaked open, and she tried not to breath too heavy. She peeked her out of the bathroom, to see the intruder as they registered her empty bed, with a startled look around. Okay, she thought, it’s now or never. Go!
She leapt out into the open and shouted “I’m armed! Don’t make me shoot you!”
Her unwanted visitor looked up, shocked but not surprised, and pulled out a pistol from the waistband of his or her jeans.

“I’m armed too, so I guess that makes this a fair game, now doesn’t it?” the person spoke, now clearly identified as male.

“Drop your weapon, now. Or I swear, I will not hesitate to shoot you. Make one move, that in any way seems threating, and you can say hi to the devil for me. Comprende?”

“I’ll drop mine if you drop yours.” He said, with slight malice in his voice.
          “Now, now. Is there any need for that tone of voice when one is speaking to a lady?” Allison said, trying to talk her attacker into a sort of easiness, so she could either disarm or shoot him.
         “Oh, no of course, where are my manners. I must have forgotten them down at the back door when I was picking the lock, or possibly on the stairs when I kicked your cat.” He said, not falling for her tricks.
         WHAT THE FUCK? THIS BASTARD KICKED MY CAT? Allison thought quiet angrily to herself, and then chastised herself. Of all the things to get hung up on….
         “Alright, I see your point, but there’s no need for weapons here, so go ahead and slowly put your weapon on the floor, and your hands behind your head. And you can leave here alive, granted it’ll be in the back of a police car, but at least you’ll be breathing, right?”
        Where are the police? Where are the police? Please let them get here soon.

Mr. Attacker made no move to put down his weapon and Allison realized that this was going to end the hard way, the bloody way, the not so easy to explain way. She slowly circled closer while trying to get a better aim, so she could make sure he dies. If it comes to blows, this fucker’s brains are going to be everywhere, I swear. Even if it’s the last thing I ever do. 

She listened for any sign of cars or vehicles pulling up outside and couldn’t hear a thing. So she tried to stall for time.
          “What do you want with me? Why are you here?” she asked, genuinely curious.
          “Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll have my boss explain.” He said, not so willing to give up answers. But his answer did give some insight. He wasn’t working out of his own will, he was working for someone else, which means if he shoots he won’t shoot to kill. His boss clearly wants me for something, but what?