HauntingAdeline {1}

C12

The Shadow

“There’s another video,” Jay says through the phone, his voice solemn. I scramble
up from my couch and make my way into my office.
An array of computer screens line the ten-foot-long desk, and all my other
illegal devices in here. Jammers, trackers, buttons that set off explosives in a
number of places should someone betray me, and so on.
This room alone is worth millions with all the shit I have in here.
It’s both my happy place and my living nightmare.
This is where I make a difference in the world. Where I find women and
children who need saving, while also witnessing the torture those sick individuals
put them through.
It takes money to infiltrate high-security buildings, rescue the girls and give
them sanctuary and safety off the grid.
Big corporations pay me an ungodly amount of money to hack into their rival’s
systems for whatever bullshit reason, whether it be because they’re competing
and want to know what the other is cooking up, or because they have a lawsuit
against one another and trying to find information.
I don’t give a fuck what their problems are with each other. It’s only my
concern that they get what they hired me for.
In the end, someone wealthy gets fucked over, my client makes a massive
profit from it, and I collect interest on it. It’s dirty, but I’ve never been in the
business of keeping my hands clean.
And it allows me to dedicate my life to ending human trafficking.
“Where?” I bark, my fingers already flying over the keyboard.
“Already encrypted and sent to your email.”
I roll my neck, cracking the muscles and gearing up for something that’s going
to make the steak I just ate settle in my stomach like a wrecked ship in the ocean.
The video starts playing, and despite my instincts screaming at me not to, I turn
up the volume so I can hear.
It’s a grainy video of a fucked up satanic ritual. The person recording is
breathing heavily, more than likely from the risk of being caught doing something extremely dangerous.
Four robed men stand over a stone slab with a squirming little boy tied down to
it.
Over and over, he’s screaming to let him go. His little voice breaking as he
cries for help.
I run a hand over my face when they plunge a curved knife into his chest. They
fill metal goblets with his blood and drink the entirety of the cup in one swallow.
I force myself to watch and endure the pain alongside this boy. Because even
though this innocent soul is now gone, that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in
my power to find justice for him.
When the video is over, I have to turn away and breathe through the urge to
vomit.
“Z?” I had forgotten Jay was even on the phone.
“Yeah?” I respond, my voice hoarse and barely there.
“I… I couldn’t watch it, man. I couldn’t do it.”
I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
“That’s okay,” I say. “You don’t need to.”
Jay knows how hard I take these things, but he also knows I refuse to turn
away from them. That’s what most people do when it comes to human trafficking.
Everybody knows it exists, and most will educate themselves on how to avoid it,
but they can’t watch when it comes to the reality of it. Can’t listen. Can’t see the
depravity. Because if they don’t look, then they can go back to their normal lives
and live on as if there aren't thousands of people out here dying every day.
Jay isn’t one of those people, he’s doing what he can. But he also doesn’t have
the stomach for it, and I can’t blame him.
Because I don’t either. And to be honest, the people who do are the ones who
are trafficking them and committing the crimes.
“Is it the four we’ve been tracking?” I ask.
Jay sighs. “No, Mark was spotted at a restaurant last night with his wife during
the timestamp of the video. Looks like different men, but these ones aren’t
identifiable. I imagine they only do the ritual once.”
I nod my head, my mind racing as I try to figure out what the fuck I’m going to
do.
About six months ago, a video leaked on the dark web of four men in black
robes performing a ritual on a little girl. I’m not sure if it was arrogance or what,
but the men kept their hoods down, unfazed with onlookers seeing exactly who
they were.
Even with the low-quality video and dim lighting, I was able to identify them
immediately.
Senators Mark Seinburg, Miller Foreman, Jack Baird, and Robert Fisher.