Trust No One

Chapter 23

Hiccup's POV

The weather outside is frightful.
But the fire is so delightful.
And since I've no place to go,
Let them come, let them come, let it snow!

It doesn't show signs of stopping.
And I've brought some void bullets for shooting,
The lights are turned way down low;
Let them come; let it snow, let it snow!

When I finally say goodbye,
How I love creating a storm,
But if you really hold me tight,
I'll survive one last night!

I'm sure my spark is slowly dying,
It's time to begin goodbye-ing,
As long as they hate me so,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
(Adapted lyrics of 'Let it snow' by Michael Bublé)

Ha. Christmas. The one time of the year when people forget all meaning, and all they think about is money, gifts and celebrations.
Not life, welfare or healthcare. Anyway.

My phone buzzed twice, and I took it out of my pocket. One was from Astrid Hofferson, and the other anonymous, with the phone number being Anonymous 07891 367810.

Astrid

I'm reporting you.

When I saw her message, I laughed, unable to control my emotions. Then - not replying (no need) - I looked at the other message.

Anonymous 07891 367810

You killin' him tonight? It's Christmas. A shootin' will be the last thing the families are expecting. If you need to, kill a few of 'em. Just don't cause a lockdown on the buildin', you know?

You better not fail Scorpia Haddock.

I wouldn't fail them.
Getting back into the lifestyle of a contract killer has been quite easy to be honest. After all, I am experienced.
Even a powerful Superior-Tier uses guns, but I am just able to improve them. Void bullets can pierce a diamond wall 120 meters thick, and void strengthens everything else about the gun - higher effeciency.

I loaded a single void bullet into an AK-47 I was carrying - just to be used as a last resort of course.
And I loaded my Glock 17 with 9mm bullets and added a suppressor.
To the party we go.

CRIMINAL FILE

Name: Mr Arlo Jones
Age: 56
Crimes: Fraud/Murder/Drug Trafficking/Blackmail/Terrorism
Appearance: Dark hair, grey eyes with scar down left, heavy build, kindly face.

ORDERS----KILL TARGET

"Welcome Sir Johnson to the party. Please show your invite."
I presented my forged one to the man at the door, patiently waiting for him to let me through. When he did, I went through the double doors into what could be described as an indoor winter wonderland, with fake snow littering the floor and incredibly loud Christmas music blasting out the speakers.

The room was huge, filled with hundreds of guests. I counted fourteen chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling and six immensely huge speakers strategically placed around.
Then I saw them. Arlo Jones was standing on the balcony to the left, overlooking the celebration. I just had to find a way to kill him.

There was suddenly a loud gasp from my left, and, looking, saw a familiar face.
"Hiccup? Is that really you?" She stared at me, and when I said nothing in reply, she found the courage to walk up to me, whispering,
"I can't believe it. You can't be alive. You... you killed yourself."
"Let us not forget your death." When I spoke, the girl was taken aback, mainly from the difference of my voice.

I had changed. I asked, "How are you alive?" and walked past her, continuing to the stairs that would lead me to the East-side balcony.
"Wait!" She shouted, but then there was a low buzz, and I had disappeared from sight. Others were too busy celebrating to notice.
Half of them were drunk.

When I reappeared I found myself gazing at the crowds I had just been among, on the East-side balcony. My target was literally standing next to me, his back turned, conferring with an official.
As of perfectly planned, the official's phone began to ring, even though it was on silent. The man muttered some form of apology and put the device to his ear.

Jack Hormstead, a friend of Mr. Jones and important, had just signed his death warrant. The phone was covered in a special form of cyanide I had added when he'd been talking, and now it was on his skin it would silently burn through, eventually reaching the vital organs in his head.

But the main plan was to make Arlo move away from his friend to give him some privacy to talk on the phone, and it worked.

Then it went slightly wrong. Slightly.
I followed Mr. Jones as he entered the corridor from from the balcony, and I prepared for the reason I'd give should someone ask me what I was doing, as the balcony was not open to public.
As expected, I was stopped by a guard.
"What are you doing here?" As soon as this happened the official Jack Hormstead died, falling over the balcony into the crowds. Screams followed this, and in the excitement I activated my ability, sending the guard flying halfway across the region.

The target saw this and, putting two and two together, realised what my job was and broke into a run.
I pulled out my glock and fired twice, with both bullets striking the wall by his head. Then instead I decided to fill the corridor with void, forcing Jones to stop. If he continued he would die almost instantly upon contact with the dead space. Only darkness can exist there, and if another faction tries to, it fades quickly.

Jones died from the void when I pushed him inside. Being a red representative, he died fast.

Now to leave.

I put my ability on full power and turned back the way I'd come, swiftly jumping the balcony and landing on the ground. Most of the people were still there, many being families with children.
God save them this Christmas.
I reacted quickly to the guards' gunfire and even some ability attacks from tier 30's and 20's.

There were seven hundred people in that place.
Three hundred and fifty eight people died there on Christmas Day, thanks to me.
Including 79 children.

Omniscient POV

The snow glistened on the rooftops and paths in the village. There was a party in the pub at the corner, and it was full of jolly people. Children were building snowmen in the gardens of the houses under the full moon.
'Twas about nine o'clock that night, and the giant Christmas Tree on the corner next to the pub that had been smothered in lights, that had been turned on the week before, shook.
The sound of gunfire and explosions filled the ears of the people, and they froze, horrified.

Merry Christmas everybody. Happy New Year.