Hitman- / 'hit.mæn/
• a person who is paid to kill someone, especially for a criminal or political organization.
'THE EXECUTIONER' was a name that many people knew and feared but the ones who caught a glimpse, didn't live very long to t...
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Chicago, Illinois 1996
The moon casted a small light in the dark room. Four bland walls enclosed the space with a twin sized bed posted in the corner. On top of the bed, sat a 14 year old Angelise, biting her lip as her left leg bounced anxiously.
The sound of heavy footsteps were heard from the other side of her bedroom door. Quickly standing up from the bed, she grabbed the packed book bag she hid underneath it before running toward the door.
Next to the door, a small stand stood against the wall. Opening the top drawer, she quietly dug through the contents before grabbing on to a pair of scissors. Closing the drawer, her heart raced as the doorknob slowly twisted before opening.
A figure stood in the doorway, observing the room and finding it empty. One foot after the other, they entered the room and the light from the moon was able to show his face. Her foster father, Theodore Welsby.
"Angel," he slurred as he fully entered the room. "Where are you Angel?"
Angelise was tucked behind the open door, holding in her breath so he wouldn't detect her presence.
Theodore Welsby was a decorated officer, a sergeant at one of Chicago's most notorious precincts. The people worshiped the ground he walked on but none of them knew the true Theodore Welsby.
A drunk, who physically and sexually preyed on the little 8 year old girl he took in after her parents died, who took pleasure in her cries and screams as he chipped away at her innocence. Not anymore.
"C'mon sweetheart," he cooed. "Let daddy take care of you."
Angelise crept quietly from her hiding spot while his back was still turned. Lifting the scissors in her hand, she jabbed them deeply into his right shoulder causing him to cry out as he crumbled to the floor.
Jumping over his body, she made quick toward the door when his hand shot out and grabbed her by her ankle, causing her to shout as she fell face first.
Turning herself around, she tried to jerk her foot but his grip tightened as he tried to get back on his feet.
"You fucking bitch," he sneered through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna teach you a fucking lesson!"
Her breath picked up as she continued to struggle with freeing her foot before she lifted her other leg and slammed her foot against his face several times before knocking him backwards which caused him to release his hold on her.
Scrambling back on her feet, she grabbed her fallen book bag and raced down the stairs toward the front door. Ripping the door open, her feet padded against the stair stoop and hit the pavement before she ran down the street, his voice echoing through the empty neighborhood as she disappeared into the night.
