Death by RX

A singular blue light illuminates the dark room. The source is a refulgent computer screen on a neat desk in the corner of the small room. An empty soft cushion couch and one recliner chair face a plasma screen television on the wall. The room sits on the second floor at the back of a town house in Indianapolis, Indiana. The bitter cold of a Midwestern winter permeates the outdoors. At 1 AM no traffic moves on the street out front. Black ice splotches cover the smooth roads. The two bars at the end of the street are closed. Parked cars line the street. No sounds are heard. A high full moon provides what little light exists on the unmoving scene. In the silent room on the silent street there is motion. A black clad person moves with methodical speed to clean up the debris in the room with the light. The figure moves like a shadow with a plan. From an end table a wine glass disappears into the gloved hands. After being rinsed and dried, it is carefully hung in the wooden rack above the kitchen sink. Cushions are straightened on one end of the couch to create an appearance that only one person had been seated there a short time ago. Having successfully completed the keyboard work the shadowy figure returns the ergonomically correct chair in front of the computer screen. A look around the rooms convinces the visitor that everything rests almost in order. A pair of thin reading glasses is touched lightly to move away from falling on the floor from the desktop. One final look at the scene because no mistakes can be tolerated. The figure plucks a long single hair from the dark shirt on the lifeless human figure in the chair. Couldn't possibly be his, the intruder thinks and smirks at the ingenious save just made. The acrid smell of blood combines with the dusty taint of gunshot to create a strong residue of death in the room. The corpse in the chair slumps forward with a gaping hole in his head. A black gun lays unnoticed in the darkness near the body. Once gleeful eyes stare like those of a fish at the blue screen. His chin sinks into a thin chest. The blood coagulation begins. Discs filed away, notes piled neatly and pens organized that point down in a round cup covered with tiny red hearts. Everything seems perfect to the guest and a stealth departure initiates. A screen saver stares onto the death scene in the room with the unmoving Three Stooges in a frozen slap and poke of each other in comic display. The silent room responds to their antics with stillness and the smell of death. In the distance a car engine ignites to break the silence and initiate the escape of the murderous visitor in the night.