“Natasha, you’ve changed!” Bella exclaimed in disappointment.
“It’s you who’s changed! The last time you touched me in the bathroom, you didn’t have that expression,” Natasha huffed indignantly.
Before they could decide who would go to the fridge for beer, they heard a faint sound from the hallway on the second floor.
Someone was there!
Bella had already told the little ghost Violet not to show herself when there were people around. Violet, being a homebody, wouldn’t move even without that instruction. On the other hand, Shao was bored in the garage because she had recovered part of her memory and was now on a self-imposed journey, promising to meet in San Francisco. So, she wasn’t in Los Angeles.
There should only be the two of them in the house.
Moreover, the sound from upstairs was suspicious.
Bella and Natasha exchanged glances, seeing the confusion in each other’s eyes, concluding that the visitor wasn’t one of their own.
Without hesitation, Bella pulled out an M1911 from under the sofa and with a swift motion, retrieved a sharp tactical knife from the same spot—a souvenir from Agent 006.
Almost simultaneously, Natasha discarded her game controller and retrieved a Glock 17 from under the chair.
Both aimed at the exit of the second floor—Natasha in a standard two-handed grip, Bella with her tactical stance of a knife in the left hand and a gun in the right.
They stared at each other, dumbfounded.
Bella asked incredulously, “How could you hide a gun under the chair? When did you hide it? What if it scares Charlie?”
Natasha was equally puzzled, “You’ve been in the shower. You shouldn’t have had time to stash a gun. Did you sneak in before going to Forks? Wait, where did you get that gun? Is that a… Marzolli knife? A famous tactical blade. Let me see it.”
“See your head! Is this the time to play? And you’re quite knowledgeable! Not everyone knows the Marzolli knife by name.” Bella’s expression was one of bemusement.
Realizing she had slipped, Natasha covered her mouth, mumbling, “It was… school. School teacher taught us!”
“Your teacher was in the French Foreign Legion?”
They whispered, carefully observing the upstairs.
“Do you have more weapons stashed? If there are a lot of intruders, we should be prepared,” Bella asked.
Natasha studied her, hesitant to reveal more but knowing honesty was best.
“I have a grenade launcher in my bedroom closet. What about you?”
“I have an automatic rifle under the bathtub.”
Natasha’s eyes widened, “How do you have such weapons? You don’t even have a license!”
Bella was equally shocked, “You’re not even old enough to get a gun license!”
Both turned away, Natasha silently huffing, unwilling to admit she had two grenades in her shoe cabinet. Bella didn’t mention the RPG she had under her bed.
They were both experienced in fighting crocodiles and spiders but had never faced home intruders before. They were theoretical giants but practical dwarfs.
Bella’s imagination ran wild, envisioning the intruder as a Skrull, already planning how she and Natasha would counterattack.
Feeling a bit nervous, they decided to wait until the intruder came downstairs.
At that moment, a loud knock sounded at the door.
“Help! Please help me! Someone bad is chasing us! Please open the door!”
The frantic voice outside caught their attention.
Natasha glanced between the stairs and the door, “I’ve seen similar cases. This is such a crude tactic.”
Bella hesitated, “What if it’s a real cry for help? I’ll check the door.”
Through the peephole, she saw a young woman with long hair, a leather jacket, and a clear wound on her forehead. She looked terrified, glancing over her shoulder as if something dreadful was behind her.
“What do you need?” Bella asked through the door.
“Please open the door! Someone bad is chasing me. Please! Open the door, save me!”
The woman’s pleas grew more desperate, and when Bella didn’t respond, she started banging on the door, making a lot of noise.
Bella looked back at Natasha, who pointed at the second floor and then the door, holstering her gun with an amused smile.
Was this turning into a real-life game?
Feeling the woman outside’s malicious intent, Bella chose to handle the situation herself rather than call the police.
Too bad for them, they came to the wrong house.
She slipped her gun into her bathrobe pocket.
“Your expression!” Natasha mouthed, reminding her.
Right! Bella realized her expression was too calm.
She rubbed her face, adopting the demeanor of a naïve princess, putting on a show of innocence.
As soon as she opened the door, the woman barged in, followed by another woman. At the same time, a menacing young man with multiple piercings appeared from upstairs.
The trio looked around the house, their eyes on Bella and Natasha like wolves eyeing lambs.
“You needed help, right? The phone is over there,” Natasha said, playing her part, pretending to be frightened but hopeful, showing a performance worthy of an award.
“Call for help? Hahaha!” The lead woman laughed, pulling out a switchblade.
“You idiots don’t know, but ten years ago, there was a murder here. Someone posed as a victim and killed two girls, one fat and one skinny. Today, you’re the stars!”
Using others’ compassion to commit crimes was horrendous. These young punks thought mimicking an old crime was cool, making them feel important. That was their simple yet malicious mindset.
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