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This story takes place in Scarborough, a large multicultural district that occupies the eastern part of

the city of Toronto. It was the 25th of August, 2016, in the middle of the day,

when police responded to a 911 call from a house just a stone's throw from Scarborough

Village.

The residential street lined with post-war bungalows, well-manacured gardens and trees,

was generally considered quiet and tranquil. But that day, it was anything but.

It all started at around 1pm, when neighbours who lived behind the house heard screaming and

shouting for about five minutes, followed by a bang, bang,

bang, bang noise. Someone was heard saying calm down, and then everything went quiet.

Minutes later, another neighbour named Warren from just across the road, was disturbed by a loud,

frantic thumping at his front door. When he opened it,

he was confronted by a clearly traumatized man with blood smeared across his face who shouted,

My brother is bleeding in the driveway, call 911. The man promptly collapsed in Warren's arms.

Not knowing what was going on, Warren called 911 and then ran over to the house

to try and figure out what exactly was going on there.

He knew the woman who lived there, he and his wife were friends with her,

and he was horrified to find a man bleeding profusely on her driveway.

Warren would describe the scene, quote,

There was blood all over his face, his chest and his arms.

He seemed to be still alive, his lips were quivering.

...