Jeff O'Riley quickly rushed into the living room and picked up the telephone. As soon as he heard the creepy voice on the phone he had the intuition that something was horribly wrong. Without any second thoughts, he hung up the phone and did exactly as the man instructed him to do.
Jeff O'Riley was a 35 year-old accountant. He wasn't very smart, or wealthy. He was recently divorced and still extremely shocked about it. His house was small, but he had one pride and joy, his cabinet, full of golfing trophies. It was his passion and joy; he played golf with all of his friends whenever he could.
Jeff went down the stairs of his complex and swiftly ran to where the stranger wanted him to go, the corner of Rellik and Redrum Street. There he was, standing at the intersection in his long, leather, jet-black trench coat with heavily tinted glasses.
It looked somewhat like he had just been through The Matrix and back. When the streetlight changed to green, he proceeded across the road until suddenly, a small, red hatchback smashed into him like two charging bulls. He was knocked unconscious and was carried away. It looked as though he would never see Sarah O'Riley again.
Jeff woke up with the television blaring. He was still confused but still had no idea why he was in this state of mind. Something inside of him urged him to enter his daughter's peach-coloured room. Sarah was nowhere to be seen but before Jeff could react, his home phone rang and he rushed into the living room, almost bursting into tears. His prized golfing cabinet was completely destroyed, along with everything else in his living room. Windows were smashed, walls were impounded and everything else was absolutely wrecked.