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My heels clicked on the rugged ground, and the pouring rain muffled the sound.
Drops and drops of water added ominousness to the situation.
Not to me, but to my prey.
My prey wasn’t far. It ran in fear because it knew I was going to catch it, no matter how far it got away. That was the inevitable truth tonight.
The tip of my tanto blade caught the rough bricks lining the dark alleyway, and the silver of the steel glinted under the faint golden light that poured from the lone streetlamp.
“It’s no use,” I said simply, shadowing him. “You can’t run away from me.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” he heaved, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t because he knew I would be onto him the second he did.
I was all for chasing my prey, but tonight, I wasn’t feeling it. The less time I spent chasing, the more time I would have to end his life and send him in a neatly packaged parcel to the Grim Reaper.
“How about when I say three instead?” My voice was soft but clearly audible over the deluge. “Three,” I announced, cutting to the chase, and in the next instant, my blade was pressed to his throat. “Boom,” I whispered in his ear, and he dared to try to hook his fist at me, but I easily dodged his attack and swiped my foot underneath his in a quick motion, which made him face-plant, chin-first, on the ground.
His growing wails thundered through the alley as he clutched his face and turned on his back, trying to get up, but I fixed my heel on his chest and pushed him back down.
“You’re going to die, Alan Dumfred,” I said, my heel slowly climbing up his face. “Any last words?”
“No wait, please,” he wailed like a wounded animal as I dug my heel into his right eye. His cries loomed louder than the clashing rain.
“Why should I? Did you wait when Alice Flanner cried no? When you defiled her and left her dead on the street?” I asked as I pressed my heel harder and watched the rainwater mix with the blood and vitreous fluid oozing out of his eye. It would be a pain to clean up later, but I was more concerned with taking his life beautifully than my shoes. I had a few pairs to spare anyway for times like this.
“I know something,” he cried, his body twisting in pain. “Something that no one in this city knows.”
Trading information and secrets wasn’t my style of business, but for some reason that night, I listened. Maybe it would turn out to be insightful after all.
“It’s your lucky day,” I muttered.
About an hour later, the rain was more of a soft patter. A whisper of a light breeze softly brushed my skin as I weaved through the shadows of the tall trees.
No one had ever dared to set foot in his lair before. If they had, they probably weren’t alive to tell the tale. But the city whispered about him. Whispered about the man who owned the most powerful city in the world. Whispered about the man who was rarely sighted in public among the commoners. Whispered of the man who lived in his mansion high on the cliffs, surrounded by thick, dark forest and the rough ocean that conveniently lined his property. You would need to thread through the acres of woods to even get a glimpse of the mansion. That is, if you make it that far with a head on your body.
To the commoners, that was what he was. Whispers. Curious speculations. Rumors. Because anything more than that and their family wouldn’t even have a body to bury at the funeral.
But to people like me, to people who saw beyond the veil of reality, who had their bloodied hands deep in the underworld, knew the whispers and the curious speculations and the rumors weren’t a lie. He was feared for a reason. As long as you didn’t stroke the feathers of the beast, it left you unmaimed, but one wrong move, and then your life was the last thing you had to worry about.
I was a ghost in the shadows as I neared the edge of the forest, and the stone-cased mansion finally came into view. It stood tall like a massive Gothic castle. Its long, towering roofs peaked out from the heavy mist, and the yellow-gold light spilling through the windows was stark against the heavy darkness cloaking the air.
The entire place looked too still to be true. Maybe to a layman’s eye it appeared deserted, but at least thirteen men were stationed in the darkness, ready to put a bullet between my eyes if I made one wrong move.
I knew very well that if I wanted my head to stay on my body, I had to be careful.
Within minutes, I found my way in.
The size of the balcony was more like a terrace, free-standing on the side of the mountain.
The sound of my heel landing on the marble balcony floor was not silent. I didn’t intend for it to be. It was abrupt amid the soft classical music flowing through the air. A heavy, chilling wind rustled my wet dress and hair, which stuck to my skin. Maybe on another night, I would’ve taken a moment to appreciate the view from up here because it was breathtakingly beautiful.
The full moon gleamed silver on the tumultuous ocean, and the lush crash of the waves on the choppy rock blended into the most perfect background.
The double balcony doors were wide open, leading to the largest loft I’ve ever seen. The walls on either side of the balcony were floor-to-ceiling glass windows, projecting out of the mountain to cast the same view of the vast ocean.
The room was dimly lit, with dull white lights. The area in front of the windows had a sprawling leather couch, with a circular table by the side, one lamp, and a red record player spinning a vinyl. Behind it was a small bookshelf and a makeshift gym with every possible piece of equipment, even a small boxing ring, and closed doors beyond.
Probably a bedroom?
