Mercy

Part 33: R.K.

There had been one thing that stopped me from killing Roger, he was too powerful and too close to me but now... That didn't matter. If I was going down, I would take him with me. I was going to gut him like a fish. I was going to make him suffer for everything he had done, everything he did to me and to everyone else. Rationally and with some hindsight I had not been Roger's greatest victim, he actually helped me a lot, but he was still a bastard who used people, hated women and beat his kids. No one would miss anything more than his money.

There was no need to plan in the same manner as I had when I killed Charlotte. I stopped for a second and thought about her, was she the catalyst for all of this? Maybe, but in all honestness, did it matter now? I was not going to be mad at her for this. She gave me a lot, also I did kill her so it was kind of my fault. I wondered if she could have loved me. Maybe she didn't have to be the catalyst but maybe she could have slowed me down. I told her about me and although I don't think that she fully believed me, maybe she did... If I would have waited, if I would have let her love me, would she have changed what was looking to become the outcome of my life. I was not going to grow old, I wasn't even going to see thirty, maybe Charlotte would have changed that. I was lost in thought and caught myself. Thinking this way wouldn't help anyone.

I packed a bag, no, I packed two bags. I took one of the small bottles of whiskey I had and I opened it carefully enough to be able to make it look brand new after I dropped about 10 roofies into the bottle. They were strong and if my math was correct five would have been enough, but I couldn't and wouldn't risk it. I left them to dissolve while I packed the big bag. A roll of plastic trash bags, chlorine, duct tape, a scissor, my good knife and then some of my kitchen knives. I know that the plastic bags were overkill seeing how I didn't count on getting away with it but still, I needed to slow down the process of them finding him and the police finding me. I wanted to be able to achieve as much as possible before dying so why not slow them down. I do believe that 'no body no crime' was a thing and not only a song but I wouldn't risk sitting through litigation just to be proven wrong. Also, I had never been able to dump a body on my own, sooooooo, I was just doing my best. Imagen going for the participation trophy for murder, it was out of character for me but I guess that was what I was doing.

I put the bottle, a set of nail files and a small pocket knife in the smaller bag and I felt ready. I looked at myself in the mirror. How do you dress to kill a... I don't know what Roger was to me, for a while I thought of him as a father but then more of a mentor and now, I don't know. But I know now that I should dress for the occasion. I put on a really tight leather skirt that I still could move in and a black top, it was not too low cut. Someone once told me that it looked improper to wear both at the same time. A short skirt or a low cut top on their own were sexy, but together they were slutty. I looked at myself and I looked great. My hair was good and my body looked better than usual, that is saying something because I really did like my appearance. I put a change of clothes in my bag, similar to what I was wearing and then I left for Rogers.

I walked into the house through the side door, he always forgot to close it when he came back in from taking a call. He would often end up wandering the garden when stuck in calls he found boring and this was something he had done since I was a kid. Who knew that his boredom would help me one day.

I snuck around and the house was quiet, I had counted on him being alone and I was correct. I could see the light through his office's door. I put the lager bag down beside the door, right outside and I went into the room, the only warning being a soft knock.

He was deep in thought and I could see that he was tired. He was often tired and when I was a teenager I found a stick of color corrector in his desk. He would never admit to wearing make-up but just a touch now and then to give a brighter impression never killed anyone. Surprise stained his face as he saw me.