Snow pounded the window in the middle of the night as I snuggled on the couch with hot chocolate warming my hands. I was lost in a love story book. Then BAM! A loud sound came from the kitchen. My heart jumped, the book clattered to the floor.

Grabbing a rusty iron poker from the fireplace, I tiptoed towards the noise. My steps creaked on the hardwood floor as I crept towards the source of the sound.

The kitchen door swung open, blowing back and forth. Goosebumps popped up on my skin. Should I call the police? Hide? My inner hero gave me courage. I took a deep breath and peeked inside.

Then, I burst out laughing!

There, sitting on the counter, was my naughty cat, Oliver. He had knocked over a pot lid with a playful swat, probably hunting dust bunnies under the fridge. Relief washed over me, followed by a bit of grumpiness. This wasn't the first time Oliver had scared me at night with his tricks.

"Oliver!" I said in a pretend-stern voice, but I couldn't help but smile. He just blinked at me, paw resting on the lid like he did nothing wrong. I sighed, chuckling anyway. He knew how to get away with anything!

Picking up the lid, I scratched him behind the ears. He purred, rubbing his head against my hand, not sorry one bit. As I cleaned up the mess, a happy feeling spread through me. Sure, my heart almost jumped out, but the whole thing somehow made me feel good after a long day.

Oliver snuggled next to me, purring loudly. Maybe a good scare, even a fake one, was just what I needed. Sitting on the floor with Oliver by my side, I finished my hot chocolate, the storm outside making a calming sound. It wasn't a super exciting adventure, but in its own funny way, it reminded me that sometimes, the best moments are the simple ones with a mischievous cat and a warm drink, keeping cozy on a cold night.

As I sit in my living-room watching the lights in the darkness of the night, I hear a commotion in the streets followed by gunfire. BANG BANG BANG. Rather than get involved, I got up and closed the drapes. It wasn't long before I heard a knock on my door. It was the police. I left the chain on and cracked the door.

Yeah, what do you want? I asked.

There is a dead body outside. You know anything about that? they asked.

Nope, didn't hear or see a thing, I answered. With that, I shut the door, fixed a drink and went back to my chair. Fuckin cops. I'd be damned if I was going to help them! Within an hour, I was fast asleep.

RING RING RING went the phone. I looked at the clock. 7am. SCREW THIS!! I answered it, said "FUCK OFF!" and slammed the receiver down. RING RING RING. DAMMIT! I picked the receiver up again. "This better be good!" I said.

"Get your ass up Mercury! One of ours was shot and killed right outside your place! How the hell did this happen??" yelled Ketamine.

Great, this is all I need. The Boss yelling at me before the sun's even out! "Sorry Boss. I heard it but didn't know it was one of ours. I'll see what I can find out." 

Mercury showered and made breakfast. An hour later she made the rounds to see who knew what. It was still snowing. There must have been a good foot by now. This is going to be a challenging task. How many people will want to get out in this crap, I wondered. I stopped at the news-stand and got the local paper. I went to the coffee shop across the street, got a coffee and table then sat down. Flipping through the paper, there wasn't anything about a shooting. Not on my street anyway. I guessed that my Boss had it buried. I asked the people in the coffee shop and only one person admitted to knowing anything. She was hesitant to talk. I bought her a coffee and told her I was hesitant as well since I had heard it too. She looked around and then spoke.

"I saw it! These two guys got into it in  front of my window! It was awful! The man shot him in the head! Three times!" she said. I asked her what he looked like. She looked around the coffee shop which was nearly empty then said "He was a big guy. Black hair and a black jacket. His face looked rough! Like he'd been in a fight. I think his nose was broke! OH and he had a tattoo on his neck! It was a star with a snake in the middle."

Mercury took in this information. She had a description and knew the guy had to be local since there was all this snow. She asked this gal if he had driven off. At the time, there was only a couple inches of snow. She told me that, no, he had walked off. Mercury had enough. I thanked her, got a coffee to go and went home. I called the Boss.

"Hey Boss. I got a description of the guy and I'm pretty sure he is local. He walked off." Mercury went on to describe the guy to her Boss."Find him and end him," her Boss said. Mercury knew this was coming. She told the Boss she would let her know when it was done.

The snow hindered the search for the man. Mercury decided to stay in until the snow stopped and the street was cleaned. While she waited, Mercury cleaned her gun and did laundry. The day blended into the night before the snow stopped. The next morning, Mercury decided to venture out. A few hours of searching led her to the local park where she saw a man walking his dog. Mercury casually walked up to him. When she saw the tattoo she knew she had the right man. "Nice dog," Mercury said. She pet the dog. As she walked past the man, she put the muzzle of her gun against the back of the head and shot. He fell to the ground dead. Mercury leaned over him and whispered "You wasted two bullets." Mercury grabbed the dog's leash, sauntered off and went home. The work was done. It was time for a drink .. or five. She got water for her new dog. Tomorrow she would get food and maybe a toy. As she began drinking her first glass, she called her Boss and let her know it was done. The conversation was short. When she was done, she looked over to her new dog. He was sitting beside her. What should we call you? Mercury asked the dog. I know. Bullet.. I'll call you Bullet, she said to the dog. It seemed fitting.

At the estate of a prominent business partner in the hills of Upper New York, the chiming of the grandfather clock echoes through the night. It's midnight, and snow is falling steadily. Out of the darkness from somewhere within the estate, you hear a loud, indistinguishable sound. Putting on some clothes and grabbing your revolver, you cautiously crack the bedroom door, peering into the hallway. Several other guests also appear to be peeking out into the hallway, wondering what the strange sound was. Alarmed and exchanging puzzling looks, another mysterious sound rings throughout the house.

Quickly, everyone heads in the direction of the sound, hunting down the noises as they continue, still puzzled about what could be making them. Finally, they reach the door of the basement, and the noise is unmistakably coming from behind it.

Everyone exchanges eye contact, and like deer caught in headlights, no one wants to be the one to check it out. Finally, someone is pushed forward, and they reluctantly turn the door handle, opening the door with a slight creak of the hinges. Out of the darkness, like an abyss, and with hearts racing with adrenaline, the noise is louder than ever.

Making their way down the rickety old steps, fumbling in the dark, they find the chain to the light and yank it. There's a whirling hum of electrical current, and the light bulb flickers, finally fading from barely a match's worth of illumination to lighting up the entirety of the basement.

There, at the center of the basement, lies Warmonger passed out, facedown, completely naked, and with an empty bottle of booze in hand. The sound? The snoring, like that of a wildebeest, rattling the very walls.

The group lets out a collective sigh of relief.