Stockholm Syndrome? ✔

S.S 3

Felix's POV

I was an early riser. From an early age I liked waking up early in the morning. When I did my training in Russia, it was drilled into me. There were only 24 hours a day, if you can get the maximum number of hours to do your job, the better. Waking up in the wee hours of the morning became a part of me. I was a light sleeper. The slightest noise woke me up. My reaction time was faster than most men my age.

I had no active mission, so I should have spent the day relaxing, but I had other ideas. The sooner I got rid of my target the better. There was no point in waiting. I had waited long enough for the day I would get my revenge.

It had haunted me every day; a face filled with so much pain and bitterness my heart couldn't take it. It had been imprinted on me, rendering me unfeeling. It had reduced me to the cold-hearted killer I was. The image had pummeled and pulverized my childhood and in turn molded me into something entirely different.

When I woke up I went into the shower, later making breakfast for myself and sitting in the living area. I switched on the TV but elected to view visuals from one of my cameras, the one in the boy's room.

I already knew his schedule from watching him often, but I wasn't certain if he stuck to it now that he was on summer holiday.

The room came into view. The boy was still sleeping. He was tucked under the covers, his head showing only slightly. His hair was tousled. I looked at my watch. It was only 6:25 am. In about 5 minutes his alarm would go off. That was if he intended to go jogging that morning like he always did.

I focused on my eating for a while and hoped the boy was going jogging that morning. The camera I had set up in his house was limited to his room. I wanted to carry out surveillance outside his home environment, see the kind of person he was outside. I had started watching him about two months back; with the exception of the month I wasn't available. I had never physically interacted with him.

About 5 minutes later I heard the sound of an alarm. Archer tossed and switched it off without even looking at it. He turned back and covered himself with the sheets. I was about to concede stalking him while he jogged when he kicked the covers off himself and got out of bed. He yawned and stretched himself. He went into the bathroom briefly and came back into the room.

I took a sip of my orange juice as I watched him change into his jogging clothes.

If he was someone else I wouldn't have minded having him in my bed. The boy was well-built, with contours that were well-defined. He exercised regularly, making him not only toned, but a little ripped. The skin covering his torso begged to be touched, something that surprised me enough to make me choke on my juice. I had seen him with his clothes on most of the time. I knew how pretty his face was. I hadn't known just how attractive he was undressed.

Blue jogging pants, white t-shirt written 'run' and blue sneakers later, he was done. He accessorized with a watch and an ipod. He took too much time if you ask me, like he knew I was watching him. But I knew he couldn't have known. I had placed the camera discreetly, and it was way too small for him to spot it.

He left the room and I left my post. I grabbed my phone and enabled the house alarms before exiting the premises. I had chosen my Mazda 2 that day. It was cheap and small enough not to stand out and the last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself.

I drove to where I knew the boy passed on his route, hoping he hadn't changed his route. It was at a park. Few people were there. A crazy thought crossed my mind and I dismissed it, all in good time. I parked and got out of the car.