Killer Love ||L.S

MISSION 100:DEPARTURE

TW: SELF HARM AND SELF LOATHING

Louis awoke and he realised that Earl was not going to wake him up but was going to let him sleep, and according to the clock on his wall, just past 6pm. He had slept for six hours. He felt rested and greatful for Earl.

As Louis scanned his room, he saw his bags, packed and stacked. Three big red velvet suitcases and on top of them, his vanity and a few other bags. He assumed that it was Earl. Earl was trusted by Louis and Louis only trusted Earl but not with his darkness.

The room was well lit but the curtains were drawn. Louis should only assume that the sun had set. He pulled back his sheet and got up. He stretched his body. It felt heavy although Louis was very underweight and there was no light in him like he had in his childhood. One who were to hear what happened to him, would think him foolish and childish but to Louis, who trusted and loved easily, what happened to him was enough to destroy any light, love and trust in him. The darkness took over after that.

Louis walked over to the bags and picked up one of the larger suitcases and walked into his closet with it. He placed it on a bench inside it and pulled at the zip and flung it open. It was neatly packed but there was space in it. Enough space for him to fit a few files. Louis doesn't carry the things he needs for the assassination beforehand. He gets all he needs from a remote area in the target's own country. He's never seen entering nor leaving any of the shops. Another reason he's called the ''Spectre.'' He does pay for the things but never meets an owner or cashier.

It's all planned to the very detail. Louis walked into his secret room and picked up one file. He didn't need a reason to end Harry so he only had one file. He walks out with it, the door shutting behind him. He then concealed the file between his clothes. He didn't need to. After things are packed nobody touched his things. Even when arriving back, Louis packs his own things.

He walks out of his walk in closet with his closed suitcase and places it with the rest of the things and it looked untouched and unmoved, perfectly in place. He didn't need to reconfirm Earl's packing. Earl knew Louis. He would have packed one traditional attire for the coronation and four other traditional clothing items, to wear for events but apart from that he would have packed casual clothing. Louis's known worldwide for it. Dressing like the common folk of the world. He eyes the golden frame near the entry of the closet. It was his clothes rack. It's where clothes to be worn were hung. On it Earl had hung a a white silk long sleeve shirt, with a lot of tiny buttons running along the front, each with a little hoop to secure it in place. Over the silk shirt, hung a  magnificent bright crimson tailcoat, with golden working on it and the sleeves an ombre of bright crimson to black and wrist length long. It had gold buttons on one side and the other had golden lined holes that blended into the design as if there were no holes and only visible to those who were to put their finger through one of the holes. Next to the tailcoat and shirt hung a pair of bright crimson trousers with gold lining at the bottom of it and a gold colour working ran down the left leg on the side. On top of the trousers lay a golden belt with a buckle in front of it also in gold.
On the floor lie Louis's best pair of brown knee length leather boots, shined to perfection. On a separate hanger, lie his waistcoat. It was a pearl iridescent colour with five gold buttons in front.

Louis already knew why it was there. He was to wear it the next morning. He needed to go Eroda but he hated it all the same. It reminded him of why he was the way he is. Why he loathed himself so much. Why he kills. Why he hurts himself with over exercise, little amounts of sleep and no food. Somehow hurting himself seemed to compensate for the lives he took, eventhough, people praised the Spectre for his work as much as they feared him.

He needed something help him forget his journey tomorrow so he went for a run.

As per normal he ran until his legs gave out and he collapsed on the sandy beach this time. He lay there. His chest heaving and his lungs struggling to get oxygen into his system. Louis was smart. Very smart. His wisdom beyond his years but yet he felt like someone without purpose, someone who would be forgotten and most of all someone who could never love or be loved.