Vacant citizen (standard:horror, 1714 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Mar 01 2009	Views/Reads: 3275/1965	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
David is known as a person who is non-too bright, so would-be thieves try to take advantage, but is he all he seems?

David Thompson was the type of person whose IQ was nowhere near three
figures, who came across as someone who was not quite a simpleton, but 
oafish, who fell for any scam and con that came his way. Ask him the 
time, and he would stare at his watch for a while whilst he worked it 
out. Directions were also a problem when he knew where the place was. 
Yet, to this day, he always managed to be quite wealthy, and kept 
himself neat and tidy, despite being over-weight at the age of 59. How 
he'd managed to survive to that age was anybody's guess, but he'd done 
well for himself, and nobody could argue with that. He had made his 
wealth from his background in motor insurance, the necessary 
intelligence for which seemed paradoxical with the knowledge he had 
outside the sphere of his profession.  He could quote facts and 
figures. He could save you 40% on your car and breakdown cover. 
Business was all he was good at, and people knew this. He had never 
married, never had any children. He was basically married to his work. 
However, one day, 16 years ago, he found himself out of employment, 
surplus to requirements, and he couldn't take it, couldn't handle the 
sudden change in circumstance after knowing the same thing for so long. 
He was found lying on his kitchen floor, surrounded by tablets. Word 
soon spread around, and he was comforted, and soon found another 
company. He basically got himself back on his feet and became an 
important member of the community, offering advice and generally 
becoming a person with whom everybody knew to some degree or another. 
There are usually the regulars who frequent local pubs who seem to know 
everybody, and David was one, so it was not too difficult for the local 
petty crook to discover that he had quite a substantial amount of money 
put away. Prime candidate then, for a scam that could relieve him of 
all he had, maybe even his life. 

Gavin Richmond had thought it all through. He had roped in an
accomplice, and with David being so rich, sharing the profits was not a 
problem. Gavin was 27, and had seen the inside of prison three times, 
each time for stealing, but he guessed that if he got away with this, 
he wouldn't have to steal again. He had met his accomplice behind bars, 
a nineteen year-old who had been in some form of custody since he was 
sixteen for committing one single act of brutality that he will 
probably be reminded of wherever he goes. A stain on his character for 
the rest of his life. Gavin's accomplice had brought to an after school 
fight, his Father's shiny new axe, which he had ran home for at 
dinner-time. Obviously his opponent felt this was cheating when it was 
brought out, but his protests went unheard as he was pushed to the 
ground and had had his left hand severed halfway up the fore-arm. So 
began the onset of prison life, and his meeting with Gavin, and their 
growing reputation as a pair of misfits, who very soon, will end up 
nowhere else but behind bars, the only place that will take them. They 
knew of David's suicide bid, or what was, in effect, a cry for help, 
and they knew his profession, and they knew where he lived. Gavin and 
Harvey had decided to ask David for advice on opening a bank account. 
They had found him in the pub, where they asked if they could go to his 
house the following day to discuss it. David was only too pleased to 
help them out, and looked forward to meeting them. 

The following night, at seven, it was only Harvey who turned up at his
house. “Your friend not with you?” asked David, looking past him to see 
if he was coming. “He'll be along in about ten minutes. He had to post 
something in a house a few roads away” said Harvey. David nodded, 
understanding. “Come in, come in,” he said, standing aside to allow 
Harvey to enter. The house was nothing special. It was a two up, two 
down affair, sandwiched amongst other identical houses. There was no 
gate, or path. The only thing in front of the door was a step. It 
suited David. He didn't need, or want much. Inside it was sparse, 
pretty much the same as it was when he moved in 22 years ago. If the 
previous occupants ever came back, they wouldn't notice many changes. 
The wallpaper and carpet were the same, as was the furniture, including 
the bed, and kitchen appliances, except the fridge. He'd been forced to 
buy a new one when the other one simply gave up. 

For Gavin and Harvey's plan to work, they were counting on the
generosity and goodwill of David while they waited. The one thing that 
a host does before the guest even sits down is offer them a drink, and 
it was exactly what David did, getting him a coke. For a few moments, 
there were moments of uneasy silence, punctuated by Harvey's loud 
slurps of his drink. He exaggeratedly looked at his watch. “He should 
be here in a minute,” he said. David was sat in his favourite armchair, 
feeling rather put out with Harvey's friend not here, feeling at a loss 


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