The houses of the suburban neighborhood stood in silence as the pale moon illuminated them in the darkness of the cold night. One particular house was obviously not similar to the others with its iron-rod window cages, steel door screen, and its obnoxious guard of the night. The guard barked if only leaf fell from a tree and it would echo throughout the silence of the solemn and somber night. This security feature was apparently trained, or more so, programmed to announce an alert of any particular sound not deriving from the doberman itself. The owners of this facility were known to be paranoid about every single threat deemed possible. They had every right to be, this was a dangerous world they inhabited.
Within this fortress, was a girl typing a long tedious homework assignment for extra credit, despite her high grade in the class. Penny paused to review her work and to judge it,due to her self-critical nature. As she was critiquing her paper, she was wiped her glasses from smudges, made earlier by a delicious, and filling, turkey sandwich. She desired for perfection from her paper, but was blind to see it was already before her eyes. She sighed, due to sleep deprivation and acceptance of her "horrible" paper, and programmed the computer, inanimate friend rather, to print her essay. The papers printed and were taken to her backpack, filled with gargantuan-sized volumes, that would later in life give her back problems.
As she walked into her room, as a zombie seen in old George Romero movies, Penny glanced at her room. The bedroom was meticulously organized by herself, so well that perhaps an obsessive-compulsive person would be impressed or pleased more so. Only her eyes could find a specific and minute detail in her room, that defied her laws of cleanliness. She tried to ignore it by continuing to mope to her bed. The blanket, which was given to her by her Polish grandparents that she has never met, enveloped her entire body. Her hands reached toward the lamp and searched for the switch to turn off the lamp. After she found the switch, she removed her glasses and set them beside on the desk along with the lamp and her radio. Although her attempt to ignore the minor "deformity" has succeeded thus far, it has not escaped her mind, which continued to ramble and ponder about the disruption of her organization.
Penny began to perspire due to the thought of a "mess." She threw her blanket off of herself and walked, almost ran, to a specific novel in her library. The novels Dune, one of her favorite books, and 2001: A Space Odyssey, she preferred the movie directed by Stanely Kubrick, had been placed out of alphabetical, perhaps by her younger sibling. The books were set back in place as she desired. Relief encompassed her mind and she quickly covered herself with her blanket. Sleep slowly crept into her eyes, for she had longed for relaxation all week.
A sound from outside immediately snatched her from her dream world. Her eyelids became alert. She had never heard this particular sound ever during the night. The dog was barking repetitively. The hypnotic sound brought her to disbelief to what she was hearing. A more frightening noise was the dog stopping, as though he was turned off like a switch. This was followed by a booming sound of alarms, that disrupted her thinking for a few moments.
Penny rapidly jumped out of her bed and ran for the window. She shoved her fingers through the shades and looked outside. In the street was a black car, with tinted windows. This was owned by an obviously rich person. The alarms suddenly stop along with her ticking clock beside the lamp, for the electricity had been turned off. Her heart began to pound as it never had before. She imagined her chest looking as though an alien was going to burst from her chest, from a movie she saw the other day. It took a few seconds for her to suppress the fear and set her glasses back on her face.
She rushed to the door and opened it, to immediately drop to her knees so she cannot be seen by a possible intruder. Her eyes searched for anything within the darkness, to find a figure dressed in white. The thin figure was clad in all white clothing that included a hat, suit, pants, tie, and shoes. He held one object that was not white, an instrument of death.
The demon in white stood beside her parents' door. His hand turned the knob of the door to find her father ready and armed with a gun, but sadly was not quick enough to match the demon's fire. The shot lit the room for a second. That second was long enough for her to see her father stumble in pain. Penny felt a pain at the pit of her stomach, inducing a single tear to flow out of her eyes and travel down to her lips. She held in a cry a despair and watched the demon.
The man in white grabbed a pack of a cigarettes from his pocket and lit a smoke. The lighter for a split second allowed her to see his evil eyes. His eyes showed no emotion of remorse, which frightened and perhaps angered her beyond anything else. Something caught his attention in the bedroom, her mother fired a shot into his leg. The demon yelled a grunt, filling the house with his raspy voice. He fired and did not commit the same mistake Penny's mother made, to not kill with the first bullet.
Penny dashed from her crouched position, and with dear life ran down the stairs. The man grew alert of her presence and limped to the top of the stairs to seek and destroy his prey. Her instincts told her to grab her cell phone on the counter of the kitchen, which was available for her to grab on her way out, along with the keys to her father's brown truck. She followed her instincts and retrieved them quickly on her way out. A gun shot is fired at her, but missed.
Cold air hit her body as she ran out into the driveway. She fumbled for the key to the open the car. As soon as she found it she opened it and entered. She locked the doors so he would not be able to enter, even though entering the car was not necessary for what he sought to perform. The keys are shoved into the designated slot to start the car. Reasonability rushed into her brain, only to remember that the car was not automatic. Penny repeatedly listed in her head the procedure to start the Ford with the clutch.
The man in white limped around the corner of the garage. Penny rolled the car back out of the drive way and into the desolate street. A bullet flew through the front light of the car. That forced her to try to start the truck, but pulled the clutch too quickly and made the car stall. An angry grunt came from her mouth from frustration, this reminded her of a time in which her late father was teaching her how to start the car but failed to do so. Another bullet nearly hit her, but penetrated the old headrest. She tried again, but stalled once more. The man near the passenger window, and aimed the gun at her. In fright and annoyance, she held the clutch a little longer this time, and released it at the correct time. The man squeezed the trigger as the truck moved. The rear-view mirror received the bullet and fell onto the dashboard.

Penny was unable to devise a plan for the events that unraveled this night have most changed her life. The overwhelmed feeling she had prevented her from making much sense as she sped through the resting and barren town. She knew the demon eventually was soon to find her if she tried to hide, so her thoughts were purged on fleeing. A red light forced her stop the car, despite the fact there were no cars traveling through the opposite direction. Her cell phone began to vibrate, a call had been sent to her. She unlocked her cell phone, her code being eleven-thirty-eight. The call was from an unknown number, it was labeled "Restricted." She answered the phone and a voice began to speak, "I regret the fact of your late parents, but you must persevere. Meet me at the Hilton Hotel, Room 237. Make haste, for hesitation will result with Blanco, instead of me, at the other side of the door." The call ended before she could ask a few unanswered mysteries within her head.
The truck waited at the intersection, pondering which direction it will take. Shall it proceed by turning left into an undirected journey, or will it drive forth towards the hotel? Perhaps it was the song on the radio, the Metallica rendition of "Turn the Page," or the despair that allowed her to entrust this stranger, with all she had left, and drive the car in his direction.