Trust No One

Chapter 22

Omniscient POV

"So," The man uttered the word slowly, before carrying on,
"Where the Hell is the money?"
As he said this, he pulled out his Tokarev and pointed it at the assassin.

Crime was on the increase ever since the killing in Berk Military Academy, where 789 people were killed and a further 341 seriously injured. This event had finished with the destruction of the Academy by means of bombing.
Not good.

So this man, who went by the name Jimmy Tinour, was a well known criminal around here, and commonly dealt in death.
As long as he was able to relax in his luxury mansion knowing he'd just had a large increase put into his bank account, he was fine.

This time, he'd employed an assassin to kill the Prime Minister of England and take the money they happened to have stuffed in their vaults in 10 Downing Street.
Of course, as it often can be, this was Jimmy's biggest mistake.

Because now the assassin he was pointing a pistol at was pointing 6 million vaults of electricity by power of void at him, but did he believe that was the case? No! He was an idiot!

"The money Smith. You know the deal. You get ten percent of it, I get sixty and the rest goes to a friend of mine."
The assassin stared at him through his black hood that completely covered his face. He muttered a single word.

"No."

With that Jimmy died, after flying 570 meters through the buildings that were unfortunate enough to have been previously constructed behind.
After all, Hiccup Haddock needed the money for himself.

Astrid's POV

"Ugh," I groaned as I thought back to today. Why couldn't people just leave me alone? There were very few people I can ever be friends with, and that includes Heather, and... someone who was once still around. Not him anymore though - he betrayed me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out, wondering what the Hell people wanted me to reply to this time.

From +82--6-9--869-7:

Hello Astrid. It's been a while. I was wondering if you wanted to meet again, as we once did. You must know who I am.
Perhaps not.

No.
I didn't know who he was. Probably just some creep who was weird and had found my number from one of my 'friends'.
But what was the number? It was like a normal British (sorry non-British people) number, with two extra digits and half of the numbers were missing!

Anyway, as I walked down the pavement ('sidewalk' for Americanos) there was another buzz from my phone - probably just another message from my best buddies!
No.

It wasn't them:

+82--6-9--86937

I noticed you haven't replied. Would you talk to me? We were such great friends. I'm honestly surprised you do not recognize me. Or perhaps that si why you do not talk. Because thou art aware of who they are speaking to.

Still confused but slightly more worried - no, I'm never worried - o replied:

StormFlyAH102

Hello? Who is this? What do you mean I should know who you are?

Almost immediately I received a reply:

+82-16-9286937

Haha. Well this isn't amusing. Let me give you a clue. Often seen as a shade other than a colour, a rare thing to come upon ye. Non-existent according to them, and dead according to thee. Surely you remember?

StormFlyAH102

No. This better not be a joke.

+82516792869377396829761528

It isn't. TRusT mE. iF yoU DON'T then, WeLL, it wIll BE RATheR InteREStinG.
It isn't. TRusT mE. iF yoU DON'T then, WeLL, it wIll BE RATheR InteREStinG.
-t i--'t. T-u-- m-. iF y-U -?-'! th-n, W-L-, i- w--l -- --TheR In--Resti--.

StormFlyAH102

What the hell? This is a joke, isn't it? Isn't it?! Who is this? What happened to your number - it has changed? What is happening?

+82516792869377286383728462936283628462936394936284728273827383y382733i3

#^#*$^÷<;">=,%>=,=,*%,=
&*/,%>$,#*Astrid,&×*%*=,/*!
No&/*%&=,×!*=*%&$
&/*%&#,You cannot&=*$;=*$
Thy future*=*%>=,3[&=
*/*%>=,%*=[,/%(DIES*=(,4

Astrid Hofferson. I know exactly who you are. I know everything about you. So now do one thing for me.

Look behind you.