Every single option exceeds its former in futility. Who am I kidding?! I can't just break into the apartment. Even if I've got the physical ability the break the door, these rotten fakers will get in my way. It's not that I can't fight that jerk and beat the shit out of him, I would love to, but there's the "so called" wife and the neighbors too. Someone will decide to save the day and call the cops. That's when I am done, and so is Hazel, if that maniac really meant what he sent me earlier.
Then what? Danes? No. No. And no. I know a serious man when I see one. And he is pretty serious. And when he said I better not interfere again, he meant it. And he made it clear there were no excuses. Plus, do I have a proof? Any proof of anything? Zero. So getting the authorities involved is another inapplicable idea.
I used to be admired by so many peers as a prodigy. They praised my brains. I was nicknamed the "mega-problem solver". And as seen, the word "mega" is clearly attached to "problem" on purpose. For they weren't easy problems. And this brief introduction to my highly sophisticated mindset and witty brains was to announce the arrival of a sufficient idea. Who said breaking in needed violence? Delivery guy knocks on my door and I, more than welcomingly, open up. Satellite service. Plumber. Maid. Second thoughts: I won't play the maid. The point is, disguise can be my way in. And that, unlike all the other precursors, sounds possible.
I consider my choices and plans. For me to be any of the things I thought of, I need to be summoned. I can't just drag myself to someone's door and tell them they asked me too. Especially when that person will definitely recognize me. Hell! I would recognize someone who landed such a hostile punch on my face miles away. So?
If it took me hours to find a possible entry, how many damn days will it take me to figure out this?! I, simply, don't have days. So I man up. And figure this shit out.
I have to make them assemble me. It would be even better if they begged. Partly to regain my ego but mostly because if they were in a hurry or need they wouldn't have the time to give my face a second look. Yes. I am almost there. Now. How to make them really need me?
Easy. They will need someone to fix what's broken. And to break is what I shall proceed with.
YOU ARE READING
Her Name Is Havoc
Mystery / ThrillerLoss. Inexplicable loss. A loss you can't even grieve because no one else admits to it. After all, how can you grieve over something that was never really there? Or was it? Richard never had a high school sweetheart, not even a prom date. He neve...
