Vigiles

His men were in position. They had the house surrounded. The cold frigid air of a Williston winter bit furiously at his skin. He had orders to raid the house. The informant said that the drugs and guns were here, but still he felt nervous. It was as if something was off and he did not know what. He had worked for the ATF a long time. Fear had always been with him but as he clicked the radio on to give the command to move in he felt death converging on him.

They crashed down the door but the house was vacant. No one had been living here for a long time. He was standing in the living room looking out the window as his men searched. That's when he saw it. He was looking out across the road to the hills in front of him. Someone had lit a large bonfire on one of the hills but they had arranged the fire in such a way that it spelled out a series of numbers 3-7-77. That's when he saw the figure dressed in a red cape moving towards the house. When the figure got within 20 feet of the house he raised up his right hand. For one brief moment he could hear the bomb go off in the house. For one brief moment he thought of the wife he would never see again. His children he would never hold again. Death had finally found him in the end.