Then OJ who was looking out the window at the time heard a gunshot. He ducked and looked out of the window. one of the figures was lying clear;y dead on the cold, wet grass. OJ was paralyzed with fear. He stood. Rooted to his spot. He heard another gunshot then... silence. As quick as a flash the other figure was dead. he rushed out of his room to check out the scene, bringing with him a bow and a quiver of arrows. But, apparently the thing that had killed the two figures was done. it had finished its work. He saw the killer head off in the other direction. “Hey!” OJ shouted at the killer. The killer took one look at OJ and ran. OJ followed. Weaving through trees as he did. Some how he knew this was important. OJ lived in a strange crooked house where strange things were supposed to happen there, but nothing really did until now. He kept running and running until he was out of breath. Luckily, the killer stopped just in time for him to catch his breath. The killer aimed the gun strait at OJ’s head while the latter raised his bow and arrow. The killer saw OJ’s face for the first time and loward the gun. “OJ?” the killer asked with a questioning look at him. “Yes, why?” say ed OJ. He was scared. His knees were shaking and he could hardly stand. “Those people back there were trying to kill you.” The killer sayd with a concerned look. For some reason, some crazy intuition, OJ believed him. “Why?” OJ asked. He couldn’t contain his fear anymore and he fell to the ground like a marionette whos strings were cut. “You’re their mark. The house you live in. they want that as their club hideout. I’m Lucy. Ive been assigned too protect you.” She held out her hand to help him up. It finally hit him. His savior was a GIRL. “From now on you need to be care full. I need to be with you 24/7 to protect you. I’m part of an agency called PTPT. Protection Today, Prevention Tomorrow. Your in danger.” “OK”. OJ sayed. He knew this was no movie plot. He knew that him, this situation, and Lucy was real. “I’ll do whatever you say.”. “Good.” Said Lucy with a kindly smile. “First we need you trained for combat”. “Combat?” Answered OJ quietly. He had always been that little boy afraid of knives, swords and weapons. Now he had to deal with most of that. “Yes,” replyed Lucy. “Combat. Pack up your stuff and we can head for the safe house.”. OJ ran back to his room and packed everything he had. He knew this was his one chance at life. And he liked his life to much to blow it. “Ready?” Lucy asked as he jammed his last things into his bag. “Ready” he answered as they walked into the night and to the supposed safe house.
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