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Looking around the disheveled living room, what do I do next? She asks herself. Where the hell do put him? As if a eureka moment, she slaps herself on her bloody forehead, we own 200 acres of land duh, pick a spot any spot silly bitch she says to herself.&nbsp;&nbsp;Leaving Kyle’s&nbsp;corpse behind, she heads to his forbidden man shed. Not forbidden anymore she chuckles to herself with a smirk on her face. She takes her bobby pin out of her once luscious raven black hair and begins to pick the lock. I guess he was useful for somethings she mumbles. Eventually she's able to pick the lock but struggles to get the damn door open. "What the hell?" she says. She gives it a final tug and almost flies backwards into the starless night. Immediately she spots a shiny red wheelbarrow with a shovel to match, Accomplished feeling, she hurls the shovel into the wheelbarrow, along with a pair of work gloves, and heads back out into the night to retrieve her once beloved husbands now borderline rigor mortis riddled corpse.Lifting&nbsp;&nbsp;a 300 lb. man alive is no easy feat, 300 lbs. of dead weight is a whole other issue, yet with pure adrenaline coursing through her veins she manages to get him into the wheelbarrow and out the back door they go. Kyle's limp beefy arms, flailing against the sides, as Nicole trudges across sticks, stems, rocks, probably a few rabbit bones. Kyle was an avid hunter. Keyword being was.&nbsp;&nbsp;30 minutes passes by but to her it felt like a lifetime, of hauling this oaf, barefoot at that, through their forest. Or her forest she should say. The night was deader than Kyle. No stars, no crickets chirping, the only sound, the deep heaving of her breath and the leaves crackling under her feet and wheelbarrow. She spots something ahead. She hasn't been out this far in years. Standing with arms wide open, looking like death itself she finds what she's looking for.&nbsp;&nbsp;Her father loved these once vibrant oak trees, and left them to Kyle to care for. But of course he hadn't. They stand lonely and still, branches distorted like broken bones. Another broken promise she signs to herself. Hands trembling, slick with blood and sweat, her blood or his blood, she honestly couldn't even tell and at that point could have cared less, she just wanted this over with. She stops pushing the 300lb dead weight in the wheelbarrow once named Kyle and begins to dig.&nbsp;&nbsp;Oh she dug.And she dug.And she dug some more,6 feet deep isn’t enough for this creep she laughs,&nbsp;And yes digs some more.&nbsp;4 hours later, out of breath, eyes stinging from his death stench and her own bodily fluids she thinks, she dumps his body out of the wheelbarrow and starts the arduous task of filling it in. Once she's finished she looks down at her handiwork, she throws some old branches over Kyle’s newly furbished plot. "There" she says, good as new. Overwhelmed, overstimulated and fatigued, Nicole drags herself back home. Wheelbarrow and shovel long forgotten, all she can think of is sleep.&nbsp;&nbsp;She makes it back home, momentarily stunned by the disaster, shuts the door, engages the deadbolt out of forced habit, Kyle hated it being unlocked and collapses onto the couch, ready for sweet slumber.&nbsp;She doesn't dream that night...Yet.She hears what sounds like knocking.Her eyes pop open and she holds her breath for a moment,Looking around contemplating if she actually is dreaming but she hears it again, even louder this time.&nbsp;KNOCK&nbsp;KNOCK&nbsp;KNOCK.&nbsp;She looks around the house in a panic, broken china strewn about and blood caked everywhere, she glances at her former husband's grandfather clock, 4:00 A.M the arms pointed.&nbsp;Who the hell could it be? She wonders. Did someone hear? She quickly dismisses that idea, there's not a neighbor in sight for miles.&nbsp;&nbsp;KNOCK&nbsp;KNOCK&nbsp;KNOCK&nbsp;

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knock knock

Token27

kierra barrett

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Chapter 2. Knock Knock

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Kierra barrett

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