Hour Of Darkness

CH 23 - "What Meets The Eye"

23...What Meets The Eye...

Orlando rifled through a kitchen drawer, knocking utensils to the floor as he searched for something specific. Hunter turned his head just a hair and watched him. The kitchen and living room were separated only by a long counter, leaving the whole area wide open. What the hell was he looking for? He'd said he wanted to show the woman – or cunt, as he'd so crudely put it – what thing she'd been letting inside her. Hunter personally believed the man had gone over the edge. Hunter wondered why he was still even there. His job had been aborted – along with Orlando's sanity, he was beginning to believe.

Orlando yanked the entire drawer from its slot as it crashed to the floor. He left it and looked around. His eyes fell on the a butcher knife rack and staggered to it and began pulling out knives, dropping them on the floor until he found the one he was looking for. It looked to Hunter like a fillet knife and in his line of business, someone holding a fillet knife was never a good sign. He was startled when a deep anxiety began to twist his guts. What the hell was Orlando meaning to do with the knife?

“This will do.” Orlando murmured then turned his attention to Lancaster and the woman.

Hunter tensed, although he wasn't sure why. None of this had anything to do with him. He'd become the best at what he did by not involving himself with anything apart from pulling the trigger. He had never felt anything – good or bad – about his targets. He took them out and walked away. No more, no less. So why was this job different?

The woman stiffened when Orlando came into the living room with the knife. “What the hell are you doing?” Her voice shook. She was terrified but determined to do everything in her power to protect the man she loved. He could see Charlie being as strong and devoted. It was admirable.

She tried to put herself between Orlando and Lancaster. “Don't touch him!” She cried and lunged off the sofa at him with no regard to her own safety, surely knowing she could easily be stabbed and slit open.

Orlando anticipated her action and hit her with the fist clutching the knife, knocking her back down. “Hold her!” He ordered Hunter.

Hunter's eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?” He asked low.

“Just hold her.” Orlando snapped. “And I'll show you.” He looked at the woman. “Ready to take a gander at what you been fucking?”

Orlando's crudeness left a vile taste in Hunter's mouth. Still, he found himself uncharacteristically curious about what Orlando was getting at. He went to the sofa and grabbed the woman, sliding his arm around her throat and holding her securely.

“No!” She choked out. She struggled and kicked at him, but couldn't free herself. She screamed at Orlando, “Don't you fucking touch him! Jonathon!”

Lancaster drew away from Orlando. “Don't...” He tried to resist but he clearly had no strength left in his arms. Whatever Orlando had done to him had truly fucked him up royally.

“Time to face the music, Johnny.” Orlando reached out with the knife. “Lets see how unconditional your bitch's love really is.”

______________________________

“Jonathon.” Clarice was shaking and couldn't stop. The sniper's arm was like a vice around her throat. She could barely breathe. Tears drained down her face. What was he going to do to Jonathon? She didn't understand Orlando's words, he wasn't making any sense.

“Check this out.” He murmured as he touched the tip of the thin bladed knife to the side of Jonathon's neck just below his ear.

“No!” Oh god, he was going to cut his throat. Clarice jerked against the sniper's grip, but she couldn't budge his arm. Jonathon had healed from the cut on his arm, but it hadn't been fatal. He'd told her he could die from a fatal wound. “Jonathon!”