Septiplier One-Shots

Final Mistake

After months of not publishing any new one-shots, the fantastic author144 had written such an incredible chapter for all of us to enjoy :) I want to take a moment to thank her for finally writing an addition to this story. It's been so long, and we both truly do miss you guys.

But enough of that. I'll put another author's note at the end of the chapter for those of you who'd like to read it, but for now, I hope you enjoy yet another amazing chapter by author144~

I had made a mistake.
Of all the years I had worked this profession, of all the years I had spent training to make sure that I left no traces of my presence, no way of deciphering who had murdered the man found the following day, no way of being followed, I had made my first, and my last, mistake. A footprint, left muddy at the beginning of the driveway, an inch between the back windowsill and the window itself left open where the wind whistled through just loud enough to be heard by someone outside who was looking in. The silence in my step turning into thumping as I sprinted away, realizing once the door downstairs had creaked open, and someone else was here.
I had never been followed, never been suspected, I was silent, always. There was never a trace of my presence anywhere, there was no way that the police would find me out. Yet they didn't have to. Crouching behind the balcony, I leaned over the edge just enough to see the green haired pool boy of the mansion wandering around with flashlight, his face hardened with curiosity but also twisted in fear. He knew about the murders going on, he knew about the drug cartel that the mansion's owner was involved with, but was sworn to secrecy through a raise and a death threat. He knew that coming inside, late at night while someone else was clearly here, meant that the owner was dead, and he was locked in a house with a presumed madman.
What he didn't know was why this murderer was a madman. He didn't know why people were dying left and right, and what I failed to remember myself sometimes. The death of my brother, after witnessing a drug deal and reporting it, sent me into a wild fit of rage, something crazy enough that I couldn't contain, and wouldn't. I didn't want to see anyone else die at the hands of these men, simply because they were paranoid about losing their money. This pool boy, he meant nothing to me except he held the key to my imprisonment. I didn't have time to look and clear my own tracks now, simply because I found the ring leader of the group and was so happy to take him out that I had forgotten to sneak inside. I didn't even notice the green haired man was still here until he walked through the door.
This pool boy, whoever and whatever his name was, had made a mistake coming through the front door. I had no intention of murdering him, that was not his fate; I was only after the corrupted who had killed my brother. Yet, and yet, I could not let this green haired man stay in this house, see what he saw, and leave with that knowledge. I could leave no traces.
I watched as he made his way up the stairs, and I backed away in silence, remembering my training and creeping backwards into the ring leader's room. A drug addicted older man, left in a suit with a hole ripped in the back where I had made quick work of him. I slunk into the room, hiding myself behind the door and managing to hold myself up on my toes, flattening myself against the wall. I watched the flashlight beam glide through the dark air, lighting up the room and finally reflecting off the blood that pooled onto the white carpet; later a reminder to everyone in his cartel that I wasn't messing around anymore.
The pool boy rushed into the room, his footsteps loud and quick as knelt beside the leader, looking him over while setting his flashlight down. He knew that the older man was dead, but he wanted to check. He was smart, looking at the wound to see if it was a bullet or not, some way to trace the murder weapon; he looked for hair and fingerprints on the body using a small UV flashlight he pulled from his pocket. With a sneaking suspicion, I began to realize that this pool boy was, in fact, not a pool boy at all.
I pushed the door away from me, closing it loudly and causing the green haired man to jump into the air, pausing his process of pulling on latex gloves. I narrowed my eyes at him, looking him up and down fully for the first time. He wore casual clothes, but it wasn't hard to see where he was keeping the items he was producing. His blue eyes were wide with fear, and the name tag he was forced to wear read, "Jack." I stared at him a moment longer, and he didn't move as I did, returning my stare and waiting. He was probably expecting me to attack him, but my knife blade was hidden up my sleeve, and I refused to take it out now in case he had a weapon as well.
"You keep an interesting array of items on you for a pool boy." I spoke finally, my voice soft as not to alert anyone else that might be here. I wasn't sure who this Jack character was, but if he was who I was thinking he was then I wasn't taking my chances. Jack looked terrified as he realized that I had been the one to murder the man he was standing over, and also that I knew who he was. Jack stood, and my knife was suddenly twirling between my fingertips. "Don't move, I don't want to make you regret that decision."
"Look, don't hurt me, okay?" Jack asked, his hands were up in the air, and he placed all the items he was holding on the ground, stepping away from them. "I'm an undercover cop that's been working as an inside man for a while. I've been trying to unravel this whole cartel thing to get these guys caught and finally arrested." Jack paused, and he looked at me for a moment. "I was wondering why they were all suddenly dropping like flies with no real pattern. The deaths switched from grunts who did the dirty work up to the second hand man and back down again. You've caused me a lot of hell working here."
"Yes, well, I can't say your cop buddies are really helping me out either." I said, twirling the knife and looking at it. I looked back up at Jack, who still remained frozen in place, his hands up in mock surrender as he watched me. "You also haven't made my life any easier. You were supposed to leave a couple hours ago, and as far as I was concerned, I was in the clear. This could easily compromise my entire mission."
"I was asked to drain the pool to refill it tomorrow." Jack explained. "I may be undercover but I have my position in this house for a reason, I do kind of know what I'm doing. I stayed late; you were the one being lazy and leaving a trail to follow," he pointed his finger at me, and I lifted my knife to point at him.
"Don't you put this on me." I snarled. "I'm here for a reason, and your being here is causing me to re plan everything I've worked so hard for. This was supposed to be the night that I put everything away and celebrate, and you just made it ten times harder."
"How do you figure? You're the one murdering everyone, you already made this difficult for yourself." Jack snapped at me, and I clenched my fists to control my anger. "Besides I'm supposed to be at the station in two minutes, and if I'm over five minutes late, they'll come looking for me."
"Fuck, of course they will." I muttered, turning my head away to think. How in the hell was I supposed to deal with this? This was a get-in-get-out operation, I had no time for passersby to get involved that I couldn't get rid of. I wasn't going to kill him, but now that I knew he was an undercover cop, it was even more risky to let him go.
"Why are you killing people anyway? If its such a big deal that I'm here, just get rid of me too then." Jack said, and I looked over at him. His face was hardened in the light of his flashlight, confused, and it softened when he saw the defeated expression I knew I was wearing.
"I lost my brother to these guys about six months ago." I admitted to him, and Jack's face fell as I spoke softly. "I'm not after innocent blood, I just want to avenge him." We stood in silence for a few moments, and then I heard sirens blaring down the road. "Fuck." I snapped, walking to the window and looking out to see several police cars pulling into the driveway. I sighed, looking over at Jack and the dead man. "I can't trust you to keep quiet, you have to come with me." Jack's facial expression was thoughtful, pondering, and I grew impatient. "We don't have much time, get up, let's go." I said, and Jack only turned his blue eyes up to me, giving me a knowing look.
"I have a plan, come with me."

I'm really sorry that we went on such a long hiatus. I never intended to leave you guys hanging for so long...but sadly, I did. I regret that. But you guys are still reading this, and I always notice new people coming here every day. So many things have happened in the two months of no updating (such as me traveling to Boston for PAX East! AHH), but I'm glad that we're beginning to get back in business.

It's been a year since this story has been birthed (crazy, right?), and now we're at 455k reads, 16k comments, and 26k votes. That's INSANE! But I never would have been able to get to this point without such amazing readers and such a talented co-author and friend. Thank you all for being so awesome, and I love you all so very much <3