She stared death in the face and she smiled.
At least that's what the stories said.
So they called her the queen of darkness.
But some knew better.
And so they called her the devil instead.
-S.E George
I'm not a complicated woman.
But I suppose...
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November 6th
After that meaning I did not exactly go straight back to "my" room. I took an ever so slight detour. My excuse would be "sorry. I got lost" I would act all innocent and get away with it. Hopefully. If not then hey! At least I've had a good run.
I peered round a corner on the bottom floor. It looked to be some sort of grand hall. It's was extravagant, a chandelier hung from the ceiling. And below it was a dance floor the size of half a football pitch. There was an elongated table at the far end of the room. With about 15 or so seats. And in the corner, there was a fire exit.
Exit number 1. Found.
Whenever I'm on a job, I make sure to know my surroundings. Know all the entrances and exits, all the secret pathways and hidden away spots. Always. It's no different here.
I came across a lengthy hallway and a pair of huge double doors sat just out of reach. I hid behind a wall, outside the eyesight of around six guards in total.
Exit number 2. Found.
The fire exit would obviously be my first choice, it would be guarded. But not quite as much as this, optimistically. Optimistically I wouldn't have to beat up six well trained mafia guards and leave out of the front exit, an exit in which a shooter would have an unlimited amount of vantage points. I'm a good assassin, great even, near perfect aim, but even I couldn't kill over thirty people without having a good vantage point.
I heard one of the walkie talkies crackle and a muffled sentence. 'Prisoner is loose in house.'
I take that as my cue to make a brisk exit. Or as brisk as a girl on crutches can be. I retrace my steps and get to the stairs that would lead up to the hallway in which my room was. And just my luck, someone grabbed my shoulder almost painfully and swung me around.
'Found her'
'Rodrigo isn't it?' I remember him. He was there at my apartment, and in the car.
'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' He seemed slightly concerned.
'I got lost. Sorry.' I put on a mask of confusion and innocence.
'I'll take you back to your room then.' He looked tired and bored with life.
'Why thank you kind man' I do a little bow and smile through my teeth. I hoped to make him smile for some reason. I don't know why. And it was either going to make him smile or hit me. Why I took the risk? I don't even know.
'You're lucky I have a soft spot for humour.' He couldn't help but smirk slightly.
