INSANITY

09 | Later

3 Months Later

Hard work isn't easy. I know hard work. Hard work is not sitting at your desk typing numbers. Hard work is lugging and 250 pound man's dead weight up a flight of stairs. I would know.

His name's Gary Clifford, known for his highly successful brand of Children's bookstores around the country. What's lesser known is his reputation of being a child trafficker. Obviously, i'm here for the second thing. It's not uncommon for private law agencies to hire me to get high profile men like him and put them out. The only reason they don't arrest me is because they believe i'm working solely for them. They think i'm "reformed." Tell that to the man i'm holding hostage this week.

Clifford is a greasy old man and I can say with complete honesty I don't enjoy being this close to him.

I wrapped my hands around his ankles and pulled him up the stairs of his office building as the elevators have cameras. His head bangs against the steps every time. Right now, he's dosed up with a few sedatives while I take him up to his office.

The agency asked me to make it look like a suicide.

Finally, we make it to the top, his perfect little office with a few overlooking the city. Makes me sick to think he gets all of this from what he does to innocent people. I make sure to purposely throw him into his office chair. I sit him up, put the gun in his hand, and wrap my hand around his.

Slowly, I pull the trigger.

__

As soon as I returned home, I made sure to check up on my lil hostage. He's underneath the apartment building in a locked garage.

Unlocking the door, I smile sweetly. "Hey baby, how are we today?" I strut over to the man on the ground, who cowers away from me. Rude.

The agency only gave me one man to kill but many more men were involved in this ring. However, those men had more connections, therefore, they were protected. But nobody can be protected from me.

"Nobody can protect you, right Walden?" I grabbed the side of his face.

The pale older man looked up at me, "R-right."

In the beginning, he was so annoying. Such an entitled man. He believed he could do no wrong and that the children involved had only themselves to blame for being kidnapped. Now, he's like a scared little baby. It has been two weeks, I don't know how much longer I'll keep him.

I grab the color of his stained white button up he was wearing when I captured him not long ago and pulled him up to my face. Bitterly, I spoke "When did you first begin trafficking? And don't lie to me Walden, you know I hate when you do that."

I could see him gulp, "2004."

"16 years? Goddamn Walden, how many kids must that have been huh? Let's check the numbers. According to last years reports, you helped move 9,000 children. Now, if we times that by 16 we get...you know what? How about you tell me the number. Go ahead, say it."

"I-it's 144,000." He spoke. His face was red from fighting against his restraints all night.

"Do you even feel bad? Seems to me like you're more scared of me then upset with what you've done. Was it worth it?" I asked him, throwing him back down. Dismissing him, I began to walk away back to the door.

This seemed to anger him. His face got red once again. "Bitch, who are you to talk?"

Immediately, I stopped. Once again, I yanked him up by the collar of his shirt with a snarl. "I'm not a fucking child sex trafficker." I drop him and he lands with a thud.

He coughs and speaks again, "Just kill me, you whore."

I laughed and locked the door behind me.

Death just seems too sweet for these kind of people.

As i'm making my way up to my room, my phone rings.

In the past few months, I've been hired for more high profile cases, meaning my name is getting around more. I've gotten an endless number of calls recently despite my number being extremely difficult to find.

I accepted the call.

"Hello, I have an offer," The man's voice spoke. He had a distinct southern accent and mannerly tone.

"Elaborate."

"400,000." He said plainly.

That's a lot of money. I could move out of this shithole and relocate with that money. I could have some sort of system. I could afford weapons and whatever the hell I wanted.

"What do I have to do?"

"What you do best...kill." I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"And who might your target be?"

"Adriano Moretti."

unedited