8. Theories
Framed:
Produce false evidence against (an innocent person) so that they appear guilty.
Tessa
I’ve always considered myself a team player, at least that’s what I want people to think of me. In actuality I just wanted them not to bother me, I’m a very individual person. Always has been.
Rules are meant to be broken, but I’d never intentionally do so if it’ll put me at risk. Once again, I was in my comfort zone with the current situation. I’d never do something stupid as being a snitch.
So when I was accused of tipping information to the authorities I was truly offended. “Why would I want to do that? what’s in it for me, Chad? you can’t be serious?”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.
I couldn’t say that I was mad, well, maybe annoyed. But I was surely bothered and in my mind, I started listing people who might benefit from my downfall, those whose pinky fingers were missing will be my prime suspects.
“Honestly, I don’t even know. I just heard about it today. I’m telling you to watch your back. It’s not that I’m defending you, you’re on your own but you never caused me any trouble. So I just thought I’d give you a heads up.”
He was right, Chad couldn’t give a flying fuck about me. But I always do what I was told and make his job easier. So automatically Chad was crossed from my list, okay that’ll probably leave a couple dozen more suspects and I haven’t even counted the family of the people that I disposed of. Argh, it was getting too annoying when all I wanted was a peaceful day of torturing and maybe killing someone.
I did thank Chad for the heads-up before leaving him to do my next assignment. It was rare that Chad requested that I meet with him for the instructions on my assignment, but knowing the reason I understand why the need for secrecy.
Getting in my car, I continued to head off to my next job. The bastard will surely feel my rising anger toward the whole situation. I tried not to get affected but I kept on thinking about the who and the why.
I was a bloody mess when I finished burying the man under the fresh concrete, the poor bastard kept struggling for his life as my knife slit his throat. Luckily, I was wearing all black as I was soaked with his blood, all icky and messy.
The feeling of being watched was suddenly back. Was I in trouble? Was it the wrist-sucking guy, the cops, or the person who was trying to frame me? I was suddenly too tired to get up and decided to lean back on the abandoned wall for support.
God, I need some energy drink after this. The night was still young and I intend to fuck my brain to mush. It has been years since I was in this kind of situation, a time when I feel agitated yet strangely peaceful at the same time. Like everything was coming to an end for me, and when one of those days surfaces I need a strong drink and a good drag of cigarettes. Yes, plurally. I was not a chain smoker, I rarely smoke but when I do I’d give my perfect lungs a good test run.
“You don’t look so good.”
Oh… the sexy wrist sucker. He was back out of nowhere.
“Why, thank you… just the right words every woman wants to hear when they’re having a shitty day.” I pointed at my drenched outfit. The man watched me kill before, and his careless attitude showed me that he was more than capable of being around a gory murder scene. Was this the guy who was sent to kill me? Did the boss really want to let me go? I thought I’ve been such a good asset to him. I hope I was not going to lose my pinkie tonight, I love all my limbs down to the tiniest bits.
“Did he send you to kill me? Cause I’m not losing my damn pinkie. I like my perfectness just fine.”
“Who wants you dead?” The guy’s masked expression slipped for a second, no one would notice but I saw it was like he was wearing the truth. As if he was confused, that I, a killer had someone on my tail ready to chop me to bits. Surely that was not the reason, right?
“If you’re not him then you’re here to stalk me. Why?”
“Tell me about this person?” he demanded, without even replying to my question. Ugh, so rude. Or, maybe rudely handsome?
“I need to get back and take a shower,”
“Come on.”
He held out his hand, expecting me to get up and go with him. Was this guy serious? He’d assumed that I’d let him take me home?
“I’m okay, you should go.” I got up and went to my car, opened my truck, and got my duffle bag containing a clean set of clothes and combat boots.
The guy was not budging, he stayed silent beside me so I let him watch as I stripped down from my blood-covered clothes and slipped into fresh ones. I zipped the ruined clothes and boots and put them in a barrel meters away from my car. I could feel the guy’s eyes following me as I took a small can of gasoline and a match.
Luckily I bought cigarettes after I met with Chad, just in case I feel the urge to contaminate my lungs. I was glad that I know myself very well when I took one and lit it up. He was still watching me as I put my stuff inside the barrel, poured gasoline, and made myself a little bonfire, destroying my blood-soaked clothes.
I stayed quiet and drag the cigarette, filling my lungs with toxic smoke. If I was going to die, I would go out with a bang. I studied the guy while puffing my cigarette, and assessed his would-be weaknesses. He still might be a threat, so I was doing my due diligence. The man was tall, and toned but not too bulky which would mean he’d be both fast and strong. His figure was perfect, he wore his black shirt like it was fitted for his body. Not one of those shirts displayed on racks, but like the expensive kind where he had it tailor-made.
The fire was burning in front of me, from the flame I could see the man’s pale face and his stern expression as if he was taking his time studying me back. And I didn’t like it, the man was not like another assassin the boss would hire. I thought I was the best, but looking at him, I recognized a predator when I see one.
This guy looked like the perfect specimen, I wonder how much he was being paid. His clothes, shoes, and the ring on his finger made him look like he was one of the boss’s business partners instead of his assassin.
“Are you done watching me?” he asked softly when the fire finished licking my bloody clothes. His baritone voice tickled my inner needs. I sighed audibly, wanting to hide my eagerness while I was supposed to be thinking of ways to lose the guy and save my life.
“We should get out of here.” There was an urgency in his voice, well, there was also the blinding speed of when he was one second in front of me and the next grabbing my hand leading me back to my car and into the passenger seat.
“Hey,” I protested though it went unheard, eh… more like he ignored me completely while he glanced at the dark wooded area by the abandoned lot.
“Keys, we need to go.” He uttered annoyingly calm and stern at the same time. I hated when someone was calmer than me, the man didn’t even flinch when I pulled out my gun from under my seat and aimed it at his temple. If I couldn’t figure him out, I might as well kill the guy. You know… being safe and all. Shame though when I think that I have to blow his brains out. I also hate having to change my car, since cleaning dead people’s brains was going to be too time-consuming for my taste.
Once again, with his blinding speed, he amazes me. The guy moved his hand and skillfully took my gun as if he was stealing candy from a kid. Ugh.
“Sit still, put on your seatbelt.” He ordered like I was an insolent brat. So I pouted and put it on while I gazed at the burning barrel. I know my clothes and boots were gone by now, but the next question was, would I be gone as well?
Car accident?
Will my parents look for me?
Where will he shoot me?
Maybe he’ll throw me off a cliff, or send me into the lake?
I hope he’d make it quick. All the torturing, I really don’t like prolonging death, simply because I had nothing to hide and I didn’t do anything wrong.