Eleven Tasks

The Meeting

I slipped out of the silky sheets as my husband snored, sleeping peacefully. I checked my phone: 11:49. Still dressed in my light grey capris and pink shirt, I slipped on some sandals and exited the room quietly. I lightly stepped through the hall, being careful not to wake anybody.

Timidly, I peeked through my daughters' room, where Emerie and Loren were fast asleep. Emerie, 9, and Loren, 6. And I knew in that instant that I would do anything for them.

"Its for your good, Emerie." I whispered in the dark, watching Loren's nightlight cast stars on the wall. I slipped out into the dark night, trying not to think of the gruesome tasks he would lead me to commit.

Maybe this time was different. Maybe a simple robbery would do. Or a mugging. I sighed, wrapping my sweater more against my chest. I knew I couldn't be lucky. I walked in the chilling dark air, aware of every sound produced at this time of the night. Or, technically morning.

At 12:01 I reached the dark alleyway, where the dark figure was standing impatiently.

"You're late," he growled, voice darkened by some sort of voice transmitter. I shifted nervously as scuffling continued near the dumpsters.

"I'm sorry, it was just one time and only a minute late," you pleaded with him, knowing how much he despised not being on time.

"Do it again and I won't be sure of your personal information being released throughout town."

"I'm sure of it, master."

"Are you ready for your task? Initially, it was meant to be quick and easy, but since you want to play games, I guess we'll have to-"

"I wasn't playing games," I interrupted. He remained silent for a second.

"Well since you want to interrupt Master, your deed will be more...special."

"No,"  I whispered so quiet it could have been a thought. If Master says 'special', you know you're in trouble. "Master, how can you have so many enemies?"

"Oh these aren't mine, these are yours. I can consider it a favor for you today, and maybe a little souvenir for me."

How it was a favor for me confused me. I was the one doing the murdering.

I gulped, the cold air compressing me, hands beginning to tremble yet cover in sweat. I wondered what weapon he would give me this time. I knew I wouldn't get lucky with a simple gun. I just hoped it would be one adult and not a child this time.

"As I said, I want a souvenir this time." My heart throbbed anxiously at the pause. I just hoped he wanted money or jewelry or something other than-

"Each of their hearts."

Their. I was going to have to murder more than just a person. I closed my eyes as the hope left my body in an instant. I was going to have to become that old person again, the one that I'd sworn to never go back again. To never acknowledge her, to leave her in the darkest corner of my mind.

But I should have known I wouldn't be able to run from her.

"Weapon?" I asked nasally, taking in the fact that I had no choice. I couldn't go back now, I couldn't risk my daughter over some other stranger that I didn't know.

"A knife." He hands me a dull looking butcher knife, and images flash before my mind. The knife covered in blood as screams echo. A little girl, pink pajamas with brown bears on them, peeking from her room, asking those haunting words, "Mommy? Daddy?"

Then me, looking upon her like a wild animal. Knowing she wouldn't forget this. Knowing I wouldn't have a choice but to do this. Stepping slowly towards her, her blue eyes wide in shock and fear of my bloody state. The blood covering me from head to toe, the blood that she knew was not mine. And finally, lifting the butcher knife up, and--

"Here," he handed it out, and I blinked the painful memories away, blinked away the regret but life it filled me with. But there was no turning back now, and no time to grieve for the loss of the child. I had my own to protect. Better them than her.

"Why is it dull?" I asked, running the top along my finger. It wasn't drawing blood or even scratching me. His mask stares at me intently, and I could imagine his harsh grin from beneath.

"The more the fun, Samantha." My face was a ghostly pale, and I was frozen with disgust and fear. I struggled with the next words, the words that would shape the next hour(s) of my life.

"What are the names?"

"Blake Pear, Lindsey Moore, and Teegan Pear."

My ex boyfriend and his family. His daughter.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I gripped the knife with my clammy hands and headed to the address of their apartment, determination burning in my eyes.