21. Professional spying

36 5 6
                                    

X POV

God. I'm bored.
I've been waiting for Elodie for years, watching from the top of the building like a creep. There is a marching band assembling down somewhere. People roam around the colorful tents like ants. The Ferris wheel already lit up, blinking different combinations of colors. This is going to be a great carnival. What would make this even better is if I get the girl. Well, not exactly, I have to kill her.

She's supposed to be here, according to my sources. Pft, yeah, I just overheard her friends talk about it. The four boys she's always with are not there either.

One would call this being a creep but I call it professional spying.
Because it is.

God. I'm bored.

I mean, her friends are already here. And that Megan chick. She's pretty hot. Moody as hell but hot.

My phone starts buzzing in my pocket. Not letting my binoculars down, I reach for it.

"Yeah?" I answer as soon as the phone's on my ear.

"You having fun being a creep?"

"You mean professional spying? Yeah I'm having loads. I even saw a bird take a dump on someone."

We both snicker at that. Then he clears his throat, turning serious again, "are they there yet?"

"No. Not yet."

"I heard there are a couple of boys with her."

"Oh yeah, four."

"They are..?"

"I think it was Pencer or something, a mute named Vans, big guy Axen, and the rich kid."

"Rich kid?"

"Xander Roosevelt."

He takes a sharp breath from the other side, "jackpot."

"Well, yeah but... don't you think it's a bit odd how he doesn't have any guards..."

"Hm." He pauses, "he probably does, many- but they're in hiding."

"Uh, right. So... you want me, a mere sniper, against a whole secret service?"

"I'll send more men to your location."

"So spread out. Kill them all. Right?"

"No, keep the boy."

"Where're we gonna keep him?"

"The torture chamber." With that, he hangs up.

Torture chamber huh? I think as I stuff my phone back into my pocket.

I've never been to the torture chamber, but I've heard the bone-piercing screams echoing throughout the whole facility. They'll keep him half-alive, slowly cutting him up while he begs them to kill him, but they won't, they never do.

I smirk, we're called the Butcher's Sons for a reason...

******

*gulps*

Vote*Comment*Share

ShadowsWhere stories live. Discover now