DARK WATERS | An Asa Butterfield Fanfiction

Chapter 2

"The notorious serial killer 'The Bitch' has killed yet another celebrity. This time it is Iggy Azalea, who, last night, was found under the base of her home. Authorities say that there is evidence that she was tortured before she finally passed, and that she must have not been dead for more than a couple of days . . ."

I stand under the stream of hot water, listening to the TV in the next room. It's a shame about Iggy. I squeeze a bit of shampoo into my palm and lather up my hair.

A memory of N flashes quickly through my mental theatre and I wince. N standing over five-year-old me, lecturing me about the inevitability of death and how quickening their end only makes their lives easier. You know, just some light and fun things to think about whenever I go to sleep at night.

God, it seems like just yesterday that N was here, panicking about how long I was taking in the shower and telling me to move, fast. But I'm in no rush and I don't want to think about old handlers right now. The water finally washes out the last of the sudsy bubbles, and I turn off the stream, opening up the shower door, wrapping up my hair in a towel and throwing on a robe. Outside the bathroom on my bed, there is a leather suitcase. Inside, a lotta money. I smile, sit down, and start counting.

* * *

"Death count 125. Over $250,000 spent on cleaning up her messes. And at the end, we pay her  the one million dollars. Why do we keep her?" Officer Keyes snarled, slapping the file down on Thane's desk. "We're practically funding a serial killer."

Thane said nothing, simply turning from his computer screen and raising an eyebrow at the livid officer. He continued.

"We've relocated so many of our resources to finding this serial killer hitman assassin girl, and we're not even arresting her! We're sending her off onto sensitive missions that should be done by professionals who are proven to be loyal to our governm--"

"Fine then," Thane said, coolly staring him down. "You find someone who can carry out missions as efficiently as Grehan. You find someone has eliminated more threats to our country. You find someone can do the things that Grehan can do, faster."

"I-I . . . how about the Kevinsky brothers--" Keyes stuttered. Thane scoffed.

"While you're doing that, we're going to be using Grehan," Thane said, with a bit of edge to his voice. Keyes coughed, chastened, and walked out of his office.

Thane turned around to his computer screens, pinching his nose bridge and sighing. He didn't really like Grehan either, but he did admit, she could get results. 

He pulled up the window he had been looking at before Keyes barged in. Keyes was wrong with his number. Grehan had actually killed 135 people that day in the building. Keyes was just an idiot. He smiled fondly at his computer screen. Over 23 threats to national security were eliminated, and all just because Grehan was in a good mood. He knew that if she wanted to, she could finish them off with just a sharpened kitchen knife. He clicked out of his window and started going through the process of shutting down his computer.

And he was determined to take advantage of her good graces while she still felt like it.