The Girl With The Hood

Black Rose

  Sam glanced at his watch nervously. He looked outside his office window, things more than view of the city on his mind. Someone knocked on the door. His right hand twitched. "Enter." He said. That someone opened the door. A woman, aged 20, stunningly beautiful yet so cold. "Mr. Harris has arrived, sir. Should I bring him in?" She said with a voice surprisingly low. Sam nod twice, and the woman gave a slight bow and left the room. Moments later, a thin man with eyes of a hawk walked in, a visible fake smile plastered on his face.

  "Ah, Mr. Harris. Right on time." Sam shook the man's hand, trying to hide the anxiousness he felt. "I have no time for small talk, Mr. Burn. It's best we get straight to the point." The smile on Mr. Harris' face faded instantly. He took out a few documents from the briefcase he brought along and handed them to Sam. "These are the girls that will be arriving in New York tomorrow. Bring them to the 'nest' as usual." Mr. Harris said. Sam took a quick look at the documents: information of six girls, along with their pictures. They were around 15, about the same age as her daughter. The image of her only child filled his mind right now.

   The office bore a still silence for some time. None of them moved. That's when multiple gunshots were clearly audible. Sam hid under his table, hands to his ears shaking with fear. Mr. Harris did otherwise; he took out his custom-made gun and aimed it at the door. The sound of gunshots ceased. Mr. Harris stared at the door with a puzzled look, lowering his gun. On the other side of the door, someone pulled the trigger, releasing a deadly bullet. That bullet went straight through the door, and nestled itself into Mr. Harris' brain.

   Sam said a small prayer. Please, I don't want to die. He could hear the footsteps of someone. He could see that person's shadow. His back was dripping with sweat. The footsteps were getting closer to his hiding place. Sam daren't to breathe. He could see the person's feet now. He said his prayer again. Please. His daughter crossed his mind. Go away. The person suddenly crouched down, their faces directly in front of each other. The person was wearing a hood, with half of the face covered. Sam could only see a mouth, and it was a twisted grin. "Please. Take anything you want. I have a family. Please, don't kill me!" He begged. The person aimed a Dillinger to his chest. "You should have thought about them before you worked with the Mafias." It was a girl's voice. Sam's eyes widened with recognition. The girl pulled the trigger.

* * *

Minutes before...

   A girl watched the man with the briefcase as he entered the skyscraper across the street. A building that belongs to COLUS, the world leading investment company. She read the information that was scribbled on a torn piece of paper. Her next target. She finished the remainder of her hot chocolate, laid the bills on the table and walked out of the cozy café. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, and headed to Level 13 of COLUS' building. Her job was about to start.

* * *

2 months later...

   Christmas. Most people would celebrate it with their family and friends. Not Andrea. Since she could remember, her family had always been celebrating Christmas with fights, doors banging, tears, and glares. Though now she didn't have anyone to do those things with, did she? With her mother dead when she was 12, and now her father followed suite. Andrea stared at her father's grave, accompanied by her cold stares. Colder that the freezing Christmas night. "Merry Christmas, Dad. Thanks for leaving me." She laid a black rose on the grave. A gift she would leave behind every time she visited her parents' grave.