Complete the short story/flash fiction, that has the following opening:
The chair, an inexpensive wooden chair from Ikea, lay on it’s side in the doorway that led to the kitchen. Two of the five spindles attaching the top rail were missing, ripped from the chair so violently that parts of them were still attached to the base where they were once glued in.
On the other side of the chair, the kitchen floor was a veritable kaleidoscope of colours with the remnants of dinner scattered across the linoleum floor. Broken plates and glasses littered the floor beside the dinner that they once held and only added to the frenzied design on the floor. One fork was still attached to the chunk of beef that it had pierced with its tines and was stuck into the floor. A serrated knife, covered with a dark rich gravy, lay nearby reflecting the light from the halogen lights embedded into the ceiling.
And there, not six inches from the sharp blade of the kitchen knife, stood Cherise Upton, high-school senior, class president and school valedictorian. Dressed in her normal school attire, a knee length skirt with a white cotton blouse and white canvas sneakers, she stood there, panting heavily, with the two spindles grasped in her hands and blood dripping from each. Standing on the other side of the kitchen stood the stranger, a jagged wound in his abdomen and blood dripping freely onto the floor.
“My employer preferred that I not damage the goods,” he said as he struggled to breathe deeply, “but I can always say that you forced me beat the crap out of you. After all, I’ve got the hole in my belly to prove it.”
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