♡ THIRTY TWO ♡

5 2 2
                                    

❝ ʙʟɪɴᴅ ᴏʙᴇᴅɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅs ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ
ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ
ʀsᴇɴᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴏʙᴇʏ ❞

~~~

🇰 🇦 🇿 🇮 🇲 🇮 🇷 :

Ring.
Ring.
Ring.

My finger taps against the hardwood table of my late father's office in an almost irritating pattern. My patience hangs by a thread.

Elijah sent me a message saying I needed to phone him. It's urgent, he said. I guess not so urgent when I've been phoning for the past twenty minutes. The line drops, and I try again. One last time.

Ring.
Ring.
Ring.

On the fourth, he answers.

“I'm glad you could find a space in your busy schedule to answer my calls, Eli.” I say blankly.

“Call me that again, I dare you, boy.” His warning hangs in the air like a freshly carved blade. Razor sharp, and deadly. Ready to slice through unprotected flesh.

“Sorry, sir.” I say almost robotically. The formality is so embedded in my veins that it's almost foreign to act against them. Almost. When I do go against them, he forces me back into my place. 

“What did you need from me, sir?” I stare blankly at his name that is displayed on the phone screen. And I drop my shoulders, realising how tense they've become.

“What is your location?” His bored tone echoes through the speaker.

“Taylors Manor, sir.” He makes an approving sound on the other end.

“Recite your mission to me, Sullivan.” My spine straightens on instinct.

“Eliminate all and every last resident of Taylors Manor, sir.” I state. My heart thundering in my chest. “Except Gabriella Thompson.” I add.

“Good.” He says. “You have exactly twenty-one days to accomplish your mission, or you will be eliminated. Understood?” I swallow at his threat.

“Loud and clear, sir.” The call ends abruptly, the sound ringing in the air.

Twenty-one days to kill six people. Or I will be killed. Sounds easy enough. I scoff at my thoughts.

This is going to be a total shit show.

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