All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
That Day
As an overtime policeman I almost never do anything. At the station, the only calls we ever get are of cars speeding in the highway... I don’t think there was a single time there was a worthwhile call during my overnight time as an officer... Wait! There was that day.. That rainy day where I got 3 calls in a matter of seconds. All 3 calls said they heard a scream from the old man’s mansion. The old man was a rich guy... Filthy rich. He owned and rented almost a third of the buildings in the town. Even I used to rent from him when I had just moved here. Well, when I got the calls I thought it was best to check it out, it would also give me an excuse to get out of the police station. So then I got half the overnight officers, me and two others, and we got ready to go to the old man’s mansion. When we reached the man’s mansion at the outskirts of town it began to rain. The world became a pitch black shadow, with only our flashlights and the inconsistent flashes of lightning to guide us. The time we got to the mansion door was at 3:48 am. After ringing the doorbell four times, a man in his mid 40’s answered the door. He was wearing all black and looked as if he expected us to be here. He was definitely not the old man or anyone in the mans family. Was he a robber? Well there was only one way to find out.
“Hello sir.” I said. “There have been reports of screa-”
“Oh yes the screams” The man interrupted. “That was me when I was sleeping, you see I get nightmares sometimes.” he said.
Before I could say anything else the man invited me and my comrades into the luxurious house. He took us to the old mans bedroom, and explained how the old man was on vacation, and how the old man had trusted him with the house. The man took out four chairs from one of the old man’s walk in closets and placed them around a corner of the bedroom. He offered us cookies and tea, which I quickly accepted before any of my comrades could say anything. We needed time to talk.
When the suspicious man left the room to make the tea I whispered quietly my suspicions. “This man is lying about something. He expected us at the door and took us to the bedroom. Also yesterday my wife saw the old man at the supermarket, so he is most definitely not on vacation. Next, why is the man wearing all black, and why does this room smell funny? There is something wrong with this man and we need to find out.”
My comrades agree quickly and we wait quietly for about another minute until the man comes to the room with a tray of tea cups and a tea pot, and a box of cookies. I wait until the man drinks some of the tea before I drink any in case it is poisoned. There is an erie silence in the room as I quietly drink my tea. The man starts pacing the room and wait- it looks like he’s sweating. Maybe I should Interrogating him?
“Sir I have spoken with my comrades and there are a few questions I need to ask you”.
The man stays quiet.
“Sir” I spoke a little more forcefully. “I need you to answ-
“VILLAINS!” he shrieked. “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -Tear up the planks! Here, Here! -It is the beating of his hideous heart!
The man collapses onto the ground two floorboards away from the corner one -the one the man pointed at. I start to take charge.
I tell one of my comrades to check out the man and put handcuffs on him, and the other man to search the mansion for any other clues, while I look at the floorboard the man pointed at. I touch the floor and notice that the board has been moved in the last couple days or so. So I pull up the board, and I find the the most horrifyingly disgusting thing ever. -The amputated head of the old man, smeared with fresh blood. At first I let out a small scream and I can only stare. When I regain control of my body I get up and get the officer closest to me and show him the head. We start to pull up more boards and find the full dismembered corpse of the old man, all bloody. I find the other officer in the bathroom, where he had found a blood smear on the bath tub. I grab my cell phone and call for backup. We will needed it. I get a call from my other comrade in the bedroom, -The murderer was waking up. We knock him out again and tie him to the bed. About a minute later the whole house gets swarmed by police officers. My job is now to write a police report with my partners. The rest will be done by the backup teams.
That day. That horrible day. That rainy day where the old man was murdered. Dismembered. The only day, as an overtime policeman, where I saw action. The only worthwhile call, even though it still haunts me, was on that day.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
--I just want to make it clear: THE STORY LINE IS FROM EDGAR ALLEN POE'S THEE TELL TALE HEART, BUT I CHANGED WHO WAS TELLING THE STORY WAS TOLD BY. Thanks--