Gun shots from the abandoned house

At precisely 2:00 a.m. on August 26th, Levy Lucas was in a deep sleep in his bed, lulled by the stillness of the night. Then, a gunshot rang out, piercing the stillness and sending him bolt upright. The sharp crack cut through the stillness, its origin unmistakably from the abandoned house that loomed nearby like a ghost from the past. With a start, Levy sprang upright, his heart racing wildly in his chest, as some primeval instinct was turned on by the attempt to understand what had happened.

Levy had an outstandingly sharp and sensitive countenance with fair skin contrasting with dark, well-arranged hair falling with dignity over his forehead. His emerald eyes gleamed brightly in his room, dimly lit, mirroring curiosity and caution in their characteristic amalgamation.

 Now 17 years old, he was busy preparing for the O-Level exams, which were truly a scary affair, though he was with his best friend Edevene Sofia, who was a year younger than him. Sofia, Amelia Edevene's daughter, and Edevene Felix's cousin, did not stop showing constant support and companionship during these quite stressful days. While Levy was also put under the stressor of upcoming examinations, he derived strength from an unexpected source: his long interest in the study of stars sent him on many nights quite regularly into a pitch-black night full of wonders.

His eyes happened to fall upon that abandoned house. The house loomed bigger than ever in the depth of night. It was a two-story affair, seemingly as old as time itself, weathered, worn, and overgrown with the vegetation that covered it as if nature was taking back what had once belonged to her. The dingy, ramshackle look of the house and the aura of mystery that hung over it served involuntarily to run a shiver down his spine, increasing the feeling of unease.

Another shot boiled across the stillness, it was a gunshot that only deepened Levy's curiosity. Of course, Levy knew well that such situations had their attendant risks, and rather than take physical risks investigating a possibly dangerous situation, he had another approach. Quickly, he pulled out a big blue plastic box from under his bed; his heart pounded with excitement almost as much as fear.

His room was cozier, and much dimmer compared to others because of the strings of soft tiny lights hanging here and there across the ceiling to give the place a warm aura. There he had his neat bed aligned to one wall while the well-managed desk and computer sat alongside a lamp against the corner on the other. A window turned toward the streets outside reflected onto the room; shadows dancing along. A few potted plants gave life and greenery to the otherwise subdued decor, and an attached bathroom completed the intimate space.

Inside the box was a special drone, an innovative device with the unique ability to transform into the likeness of a cat. Levy quickly checked its charge. A wave of relief washed over him as he confirmed that it was fully powered. He knew that the police often used abandoned buildings as shooting galleries and did not call them for rescue; instead, he launched his drone for reconnaissance, confident that it would not put him in danger.

With a decided flick of the wrist, Levy opened his bedroom window and started the drone; it danced promptly at his touch on the computer. It lifts off, slicing effortlessly over the road. Reaching over it in his direction, the thing turns left to 40 meters above ground toward the house at 20 meters, the building looming black under the star-splashed night sky.

As the drone closed in on its target, Levy's heart raced with anticipation. He noticed all the house's windows were shut tight, except one. With such a chance given, he guided the drone through the opening and felt the surge of adrenaline as it morphed into a cat. The drone turned on its night vision system; it brightened the space around it and managed quite easily in the dark.

It passed into a narrow corridor lined with exposed brick walls, with spots of aging plaster hinting at years of neglect. The structure was more decaying than Levy could have imagined. Standing evidence of the passing of time, the walls told tales of their own.

The town elders said that this house was nearly 90 years old, part of times gone by. It belonged to a doctor who had served the community all his life and had lived all his life within its walls. When he died, his younger son stayed there for another twenty years and then migrated to the USA, leaving behind a house that was but a shadow of its former self. The lousy quality of construction had brought any attempts to sell for naught; for 30 years now, it had lain abandoned, hauntingly reminding one of its foregone days.

The drone moved very cautiously into the living room as bats flitted crazily within the shadows. Their wings kept up an angry, confusing flutter in the tenebrous light. Downstairs, Levy sent the drone, feeling every beat of his heart as being another eternity when balefully echoing above his ears, he had the heavy pounding of footsteps. In another second, somebody ran to where the drone was and a shot of panic pulsed through his body.

Although he was quite a distance away from the man, Levy was not in a position to take any chances. He hastily began the transformation back into drone mode, hoping not to raise suspicion. But as the drone began morphing into that shape, the man kicked it, thinking it was a real cat, with all his might, sending it flying across the air.

Levy's heart clenched in his chest. The drone was not a toy, but an expensive piece of equipment, and his father had made it more than clear: if he broke it, there would be no chance of replacing it. One of the fans of the drone was damaged in the impact, but miraculously it stayed aloft. He spotted a window upstairs and increased its speed, desperate for an escape. But just before it reached safety, he hurled a stone at it with surprising accuracy. The drone spiraled downwards, crashing beneath a bed, the impact sending a jolt of fear through Levy.

"Shit!" Levy cursed under his breath, frustration boiling over.

An error message flashed ominously on his laptop screen, an omen of the precarious situation unfolding before him. From his desk, he watched in real time, his heart racing with urgency. He sprang from his seat, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he moved with purpose. Striding to his closet, he pulled out an olive green corduroy jacket lined with sherpa, its sturdy fabric offering a sense of protection.

The jacket had a button-down closure and several pockets-just what he needed next. He reached into a drawer beside his desk and pulled out a flashlight, its beam slicing through the darkness. He also pulled out a small leather wallet that contained a custom-built folding taser, capable of knocking someone out for 15 minutes. The wallet also held a license for the weapon, so he was ready for whatever.

Sliding the wallet into his jacket pocket, Levy's expression hardened with resolve. His usual curiosity had morphed into something far more serious—determination fueled by the need to confront the unknown. 

"Now I'm ready to face that bastard," he muttered to himself, steeling his nerves before stepping out into the night, ready to confront whatever dangers awaited him in the shadows.