Clandestine | 18+

15~Shadows of Deception

Diet Mountain Dew- Lana Del Rey
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"Careful of who you talk to because you might be talking to your own reflection."
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Regret. Pain. Guilt. Emotions one shall feel when they kill, not adrenaline, like ruining someone is the water to keep you alive; your blood pumping, veins throbbing.

That was what I felt when I did my first kill which were two of the people I had trusted the most. Gave them a piece of me without thinking they wanted all of me, and not only my heart to be ruined, but my body to stop giving me life. That even the minerals and proteins that would enter my body wouldn't be identified.

After all, no corpse's body could.

But I didn't regret, neither felt pain nor guilt. I felt like I finally found a purpose, like if I could just train harder I would be better. But it wasn't the fact that I wanted to kill people, no, it was the fact that I wanted to stir fear, build a facade to protect myself and never feel weak. Always on edge, after all you never know when broken glass stabs you on the side and leave a scar.

A scar that follows you forever, one covered by a tattoo, a snake, curved just as the scar that was clearly visible.

"This will hurt." I remembered the words the tattoo artist had said. "Are you certain you want to do a tattoo over a scar?" He had continued, but I didn't move. I nodded and he sighted as the slim needle of the tattoo machine pierced my skin, burning, hurting, but I had went through more.

The way the scar had been made had been worse than this.

There was blood, lots of it, falling on the floor just as the plates fell from my hand. I remember their words, the sounds they made and the pleas afterwards of the one left when she saw what I had done.

But I didn't care.

They wanted me dead? Dead I was. At least to the naked eye, I wasn't the same girl anymore. I was the dumb bitch of New York who only had boobs and ass. To those who knew me before, I was dead. I met Arine later, so she never knew the buried girl.

I always opened my mouth half-drunk in between laughs, dancing and drugs that I was going to die sometimes soon and she just elbowed me at the side.

"Never say those words." She hisses at me half-serious. "You aren't dead and won't be anytime soon."

Thing is, I was dead. But also I was more alive than I'll ever be.

But without my other half, my soul, the only person who I keep close and who knows my secrets I would be dead in more aspects than one. But I wouldn't be the only one.

I'd take most of the kills, torture requested or not, I would still give it to them. After all, they paid me to kill them. Even if torture wasn't requested, you never can confirm if I followed the instructions or not. Only thing left is the knowledge of them being dead.

That was why when I answered the call my expression went stone cold, Alonzo staring at it as if he could finally understand a book with most of it pages ripped.

"Yes?" I forced my voice to stay steady even if for two years it hadn't been different.

"Dear Camelli," a deep voice, the same voice who had answered the call some days ago said in greeting. "if you have forgotten about your sister, I suggest you get reminded because she might move to a different location soon." my body went still, the coldness that I wanted to show would have her safe and at home in less than a day. Just if I told him who he was threatening.

But, instead I took my computer from my bag where I also keep my burner and started tracking his location. I needed to find a way to keep him talking.

"What do you want in exchange for my sister?" I questioned him, my fingers moving fast. He must be using a burner phone because his fucking number can't be tracked either.