“Is the dog taken care of?”

“Yes, he’s asleep,” he said into his earpiece.

Cobbs shoved the pick and the door opened immediately, the dog door flapping as he shut it. He clicked on the flashlight studying every dark corner of the house while moving swiftly.    

Entering the master bedroom upstairs, he saw it in an opened closet and radioed, “Found it.”

Making sure not to wake the Old Man he cracked open the safe discreetly to reveal cash. Cobbs stuffed the bag, closed it, and made his way out to the kitchen. But a creak from upstairs with footsteps approached. Parched, the Old Man felt his way around the house and went to the sink getting a glass of water. Cobbs gradually took steps towards the door, but the floorboard gave away his position.

The Old Man with his white eyes scanned the room and said, “Hey boy! Come over here.”

Knowing what to do, Cobbs got down on all fours immediately and came over while loudly panting. The Old Man smiled while patting him, but a confused and distressed expression struck.

“Something’s not right, this ain’t my dog. Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?” he pointed.

The fake act wouldn't suffice anymore as the old man went for the door. Cobbs took out his silenced 9mm and shot both legs before the man could run. The blood-curdling screams were drowned out by children yelling and moving about the neighborhood. Cobbs quickly grabbed the Old Man by the mouth to shut him up, and dragged him to the basement as he was thrashing about. He slammed the door shut, and the Old Man was left in the silence of the basement, again he would never be heard. Cobbs walked out and blended with a group of teenagers.

One with a sheet over his head looked up and said, “I like your dog costume mister.”

“Thank you, trick or treat kid.”

He got in the van and the driver said, “You sure no one comes there right?

“Kids don’t wanna disturb a blind man, especially on Halloween. Just drive.”