Unexpected

Epilogue

Calli walked in and immediately slid down the door, sighing. She looked up at a door. She hoisted her self up and flicked on the lights walking towards the door to her basement. She opened it up, strode down the stairs all the way to the bookshelf at the end. After twisting a bolt loose she slid the bookshelf revealing another hallway. She walked down it to the last door on the left. She pulled a key out of her pocket and twisted it around inside the knob. It clicked as she opened it up, revealing a big room with four picture frames on the wall. She smiled at them. After momentarily admiring them she stepped forward towards the frames. She wiped her dirty hands on her bloody shirt and reached in her back pocket to find a Polaroid picture of Mason laying amongst the rocks below. I didn't even try do this one. She thought. Who knew there were two of our kind in this town. It's a shame. His work was impressive. Calli looked at the Polaroid, remembering how she ran back to the house to grab her camera and called the police sobbing. She had always been a good actor. She had bolted back to the cliff, snapped a photo and ran back to the house arriving as the police knocked at the door.
Calli blinked back to reality. She pinned the picture up with the rest of Mason in the third frame. She admired all her pictures. She studied each and every one. Mason walking out of a coffee shop, Mason walking in his house, Mason sleeping next to a girl, mason burying the girl, Mason walking in the flower shop. Calli felt exhilarated. She had been watching Mason for a long time; she knew it would be difficult to target someone who already knows all the tricks. She almost changed her mind, until he walked into her shop that fateful day, seemingly ages ago.
Calli's eyes wandered back to the last picture. She smiled, impressed with her self. She then took out a tag with Calli scrawled across it. She had taken it on her way back with the Polaroid. She walked over to an almost empty table that had a UV light suspended above it. Below the light, there was a single flower pot on the table overflowing with Marigolds. She tied the label around the plant and stepped back to admire her work. She proudly stood amongst it all and smirked. After a few minutes she left the room, locking the door behind her. She strolled down the hall stopping halfway to slide the bookshelf back in place, securing it with the bolt. She turned casually wandering up the stairs to take a shower. She smirked as she thought, who shall be lucky number four? Someone challenging. Someone who could figure it out. Someone who makes me feel a little less, unexpected.