Red Gunk Narrative

"Go time," I asserted and Angie and I got out of the van and strolled up the pathway to the house. I remember how his front yard was a jungle of overgrown grass and thorny weeds. We both had red toolboxes; inside of them were our favorite weapons, their ammunition, and other supplies for the mission. “Let’s try ringing the doorbell,” I suggested after I had tested the door and finding it locked. “Sure, I’ll do it,” Angie volunteered. She rang the doorbell, we waited a little bit, and then she rang it again; nobody responded and nothing happened. “Door breaching charge,” I proposed in an over-eager manner. “Sure, why not,” she laughed. I took my ammo and handcuffs out of the toolbox and stuffed them in my overalls. Then I pressed the adhesive bottom of the toolbox against the door and pressed the activating button on its side. We ducked around the corner as it beeped for five seconds and …show more content…
At first I thought it was blood, but it was actually tomato paste and salsa; the entire house was coated in it from wall to wall; I was somewhat impressed by the thoroughness. All the lights in the house were shattered and all the windows were covered in duct tape. Clowns just loved to lurk in the dark breathing loudly and making noises. It made me wonder if they were gifted with night vision or if they just did it to be creepy. As we turned towards the direction the clown ran off to we were greeted by a living room filled with hanging piñatas; there were at least a hundred piñatas. Walking through them would have greatly decreased our field of vision, so we crouched. What we saw then was someone’s dangling feet amidst the piñatas. Cautiously we approached and discovered that it was a dead woman; not just any dead woman, but as forensics would find out later, it was the clown’s wife. She had a noose around her neck and was covered completely in colorful crepe paper. “Hey Bruce,” asked Angie as we crept past the