First Day On The Job

54 11 0
                                    

Hours later I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder gently. I groaned, rolled over and nestled further into the pillow. The shaking got more urgent and then stopped, the person walking away. Feeling triumphant I yawned, focusing on my dream, waiting for sleep to return to me.

A second later I was jolting upright, yelling and shouting. A bucket of ice-cold water was poured over my face, flattening my hair to my head and leaving me with a stunned expression on my face. I hissed through my teeth and adjusted my hair, shaking my head in an attempt to dry it slightly. All that happened was I got a headache and my hair stuck straight up in the air.

"What was that for?" I said grumpily, well aware of the fact my top was slowly sticking to my chest. The culprit simply laughed and walked away, swinging a knife in her hand.

The culprit just happened to be another one of my friends - I keep such great company, don't I?

"Sanders, I'm going to get you back for that," I warned, grabbing a towel off the floor and drying my face with it. "And it isn't going to be pretty."

"Oh well," Rebecca shrugged, sending an electric current through the puddle of water that was at my feet. I yelped and jumped into the air, stunned momentarily.

"Not nice," I grumbled, holding my arms out for balance as I walked across the slippery marble floor. "And I will get my revenge."

"No you won't," Rebecca retorted, slamming the door behind her. I sighed and then shivered as another river of frozen hatred poured down my spine.

Turning on the shower and glancing briefly at my watch (which I'd forgotten to take off) I realised with some shock that it was nine o'clock the following day. The sun had risen, everyone had gone about their daily lives and I had continued sleeping.

Yikes.

Whilst in the shower I started to think of ways to get Rebecca back for her rude wake up call. She's shorter than me, something I taunt her with most of the time, with dark brown hair cut into a bob around her chin. She has dark brown eyes and glasses and seems innocent enough. But get on the wrong side of her or dig a little deeper and you find the crazed assassin contained within.

I say contained. She lets her power out in bursts of electricity, manic laughter, random murder plotting and training elite school children to become the perfect killer.

"Oh, that's a good one," I grinned to myself, turning off the water and picking up the towels. "Yes, I think I'll use that."

Whistling softly to myself I padded to the wardrobe, picking out some clothes and getting dressed. I'd chosen to go relatively old-fashioned that day in a thick, navy, velvet jacket, a white shirt, a striped cravat, grey trousers and some thin glasses I found in the pocket. My sight isn't too bad but I need glasses if I want to stare at something intently, to observe.

Just as I was about to exit the walk-in wardrobe and join normal civilisation again I spotted a black bowler hat with a similarly coloured, wide ribbon just above the brim. Flipping it onto my head with a cheery smile, noting how it pushed my hair down and added definition to the waves I slid across the floor, eager to start the day.

"Good morning ladies, Kevin," I said, stopping my skid and going to pour myself a glass of orange juice. "Did anything interesting happen whilst I was off in the land of the fairies?"

"No," Georgina yawned, handing my phone to me. "No messages, no more spooky letters, no more visits... nothing."

"Good, good," I said, slipping the device into one of my jacket pockets and taking a swig of my juice. I swallowed and regarded Georgina over the top of my glasses.

The StrongholdWhere stories live. Discover now