susie Q

The ancient floorboards creak and I swiftly halt. No body can know I’m here or this whole thing is a bust. I’m Susie Q.  The Q stands for question and I question everything. It’s my job. My job is dangerous thrilling and perfect for me. I continue to creep forward, towards possibly the most dangerous man on the face of the planet. My job can get messy but then we get out the tool and tidy up. That’s also why I’m in this cold, ancient, smelly house that hides criminals that have been chased through the sands of time. Dangerous people who don’t hesitate to think of the consequences on their part of killing anyone who dares stubble blindly across their path, the very people I’m here to see.

My train of thought is interrupted by a voice cold and harsh enough to be Pluto’s winds, “ Oh, my map’s not good enough but his is?!”

             I freeze again, but it’s to late to escape the finely tuned.

            “  Quiet. Did you hear that?” hisses a very, very old person, (to old to tell whether it’s male or female). Great, a full-grown man and a geezer to boot, this is likely to get messy.

             “Vince, go see what The Boss here thinks is lurking about.”  There’s a muffled thump and an additional character squeals in agony. A moldy, filthy little man shuffles dejectedly from the room and I feel sorry I have to do what I’m about to do.