Chupacabra | 18+ | ✔️

▪︎■ 01 ■▪︎

▪︎■ Ainara Moreno ■▪︎

I looked at the bleeding man who was hanging from the ceiling. His eyes were closed and his forehead furrowed as his literal blood, sweat and tears dropped down to the floor. I studied the little puddle. A fusion of red and a swirl of colorless liquid. Pathetic. Men, right?

His head went up immediately when he heard me approaching him. Eyes glaced with fear and I fucking loved every second of it. He was ludicrously naive, thought he could kill me quickly as a side job. The reason I would kill him wasn't the fact that he raised a gun to my head, it was because of Erlina. He raised a fucking gun at my four year old daughter. In the middle of the street, on an ordinary afternoon in front of her kindergarden.

"Chupacabra?", he stopped as if he said something terribly bad, "I didn't know you were my target, I swear! Por favor-"

I raised my brows. The name caught me by surprise. I thought it was just another rivale who tried to kill me with an assasin but nobody here called me by my old street name. I took a knive and wasted no time. I stabbed him into his leg and let me tell you that reaction was loud. Exaggerated. I grimaced from the immense amount of loathing I felt.

Some people seriously need to get their shit together.

"What did you call me?"

"Nothing! I said nothing!"

My eyes fixated him. "That's not who I am anymore. That's what they say in films, right? Sorry to let you down, I'm obviously a good girl now."

I let a few seconds pass before I shook my head slowly, tilting it to the side. Smiling, I let my fingers graze over the blade. "The arteria femoral. The only thing keeping you alive right now is this knife," I pushed it deeper into the flesh, "and my mercy. It's simple... I have all the time in the world- you don't. Spare me your fucking lies and talk."

"Will you... let me go if I tell you the truth?" Sure. Absolutely. Definitely.

I nodded and responded, coming off as totally honest.
"I won't stab you."

At this point I didn't even feel pity for his young life ending because this complete waste of air probably had nothing inside that enourmous head of his. I felt tempted to do a little check up, honestly.

The young man swallowed. "I don't know much but a colombian man called Emilio gave me a lot of money for your death. Someone else that works for him contacted me to tell me the details... He didn't tell me his or your name, gave me just a rough describtion, the time and place where you would be. He was from here- an inside job, but I don't know him, I swear!"

I froze for a moment, thoughts racing through my mind as my body completely stilled in shock.

I grabbed another knife, controlled by an invisible force- some may call it instinct, that somehow always got my back. The blade sliced through his chest over and over while he could do nothing but scream.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I roughly grabbed his hair and yanked the head back. His eyes were widely opened in terror. My voice was now a hard whisper next to his ear as I was glaring at him sideways.

"Dare to say this fucking name again. Dare to disrespect me like this for a second time and I will kill your fucking family in front of your pathetic eyes."

"I have a son, please! You wouldn't possibly kill him!"

I let out a breathy laugh. I knew exactly what he implied. I didn't like it, I didn't have any nerve left to spend my time to prove to him how dangerous women really could be.