**Note**
Please comment and/or vote if you like this story. This is more of an introduction to the protagonist and a hint of what's to come in the rest of the story. Please enjoy
Hell, He Wrote
Chapter 1
Those who plot the destruction of others often perish in the attempt.
~Thomas Moore~
**Noelle's POV**
I positioned myself so I'd have a perfect view of the target, while ensuring that I wasn't visible. Nate Sproul: Age 16, 5'6, dark brown hair, green eyes, Yankees fan. He was standing in an empty aisle at the library, picking out a book on the Mesopotamian lifestyle for his World History class. At present, I knew everything I needed to know about him and more. Most important, though, was that he drugged and raped a girl in front of his friends. Any remorse for what I was about to do to him went right out the window when I learned that little tidbit.
It was his victim that came to me and asked for my help. It was a business I did-people would come to me in hopes of getting revenge on someone who wronged them. I didn't ask questions, but most people told me their story anyways. This was an especially nasty case, and the poor girl was already two months pregnant. Her life was pretty screwed, and it was all because of this heartless monster. He was quietly humming a tuneless song-unaware of the chaos he'd brought to that girl he'd raped weeks ago. I wondered if he even remembered.
I checked my watch and decided that I didn't have much time left. I took a moment to center my energy before walking purposefully in his direction. As if he could somehow sense me, his head jerked up in my direction-and stared.
In all honesty, I had a lot of things going for me. My pale, blonde hair moved gracefully in sync with my fluid movements-a neat trick I'd learned years ago. I'd applied light make-up, but I didn't really need it; I was blessed with my mother's flawless skin. I wore clothes that clung flatteringly around my body, just as they were designed to. My blue eyes were wide and innocent, ironically enough. I looked like a PG-13 version of the stereotypical angel you'd find on top of your Christmas tree, though it certainly helped at times like this.
I met his eyes and held his gaze until he abruptly looked down at his books, clearly embarrassed at the idea of being caught staring at a stranger. I smiled wryly; this was going to be a piece of cake.
I cheerfully noted how close the shelves were to each other before approaching him. "Excuse me" I said softly.
Nate's eyes raked down my entire body before shifting over to let me pass. I brushed against him, letting one hand slide across his chest, before stopping mid-way.
"You wouldn't happen to know where I could find the encyclopedias, would you?"
He gulped before responding. "I don't know, but I could help you look."
I let my smile become coy-as if I'd just realized how close we were to each other. "Thank you. You're really... sweet."
His smile darkened. "I wouldn't say that."
I fought to keep the smile plastered on my face. The bastard really didn't feel any regret for what he did.
I let my fingers trail down his jaw, along his neck. "I wish there way some way I could repay you." I licked my bottom lip suggestively, and that was all the encouragement he needed. With startling intensity, he threw me against the bookshelf and began giving me wet kisses. It was rather disgusting, but none of this was for my enjoyment so I faked a moan of pleasure.
Now all I had to do was stall until...
"Nate! What the hell?"
It was if he'd been dosed with a bucket of cold water. Nate moved as far away from me as the small aisle would allow and looked up in alarm as a girl watched us with a look that could only be described as horrified. His girlfriend, I thought with smug approval. She'd showed up a bit earlier then she was supposed to, but fortunately she'd come in after I'd seduced her boyfriend.
