Gothic Short Story

It was a cold stormy night. The house was still. I was lying in bed when I heard a series of knocks at the door. As I descended the stairs the knocks were getting louder and louder. I thought to myself, "Who could be at the door this late at night?" When I opened the door there was a tall man dressed all in black. He smelled of fish and looked like he just walked …

…Harry pulled out his own gun. I begged for my life, but it was too late I knew too much. He shot me right in my forehead. A few days later the police found my body floating down a river. Harry and George were never found. They escaped to the Caribbean with over $50,000 worth of weapons and cash. They spent the rest of their lives running from country to country trying to avoid their charges.