Here we go thought Boone, getting up from his lawn chair. Tossing his half drunken Heineken, he smiled as he watched his victim slowly hobble across the road, angering several drivers.
He began walking over to the old woman, his eyes gleaming in the dark in a manner that resembled a lion looking at his prey.
Boone was well dressed, in a fine suit and a red pocket square that seemed to shine in the purple hue of late day. Or early day thought Boone, leaning on his ornate ivory cane. The cane was purely ornamental, of course. He was in his mid twenties and was as fit as he would ever be.
The cane, combined with his makeup, would help in convincing the old hag to do as he said. When talking to old hags, one must be an old hag joked Boone, as he bumped into the lady.
It's a common saying that the first impression is the most important. Boone hoped that wasn't true. The second his body came in contact with the old bitch's , her already wrinkled face turned flaccid, and turned into a ugly frown.
Game on thought Boone, apologising in his heavily accented voice. "forgive me Miss, but I did not see you. The rain obstructed my ailing eyes, and my legs don't work as they did before." He said, looking thoroughly apologetic and genuine. If only you knew he thought, pretending to just notice the woman's dress."might you be a nun Miss?" The bow legged woman nodded, but her face was filled with fury at the stranger who was holding her up in this pouring rain. She began muttering something, but Boone cut her off, saying " I've been searching for the church of the Saint Peter. I have sown business to be down there. Perhaps you can direct me, sister?" The nun nodded and continued hobbling away, leaving Boone to follow.
---
An hour later, Boone sat in the cozy office of the parish, tea cup in hand. The office had been done up well, with several tapestries adorning the walls. A fire cackled at the corner, and a few wooden logs slept lazily in the burning embers. Good thing I didn't come here for the tea thought Boone, sipping the foul concoction with his purple lips.
Suddenly a voice caused him to jerk. A voice he had heard a long time ago, in the bungalow. It seemed aged, but that came as no surprise. It has been six years since he had left the bungalow, six years since he had heard that voice.
"Boone. It's been a long time" said the speaker, smiling as she laid her fat into the chair opposite Boone. Boone nodded, at a loss for words. "You're here to take it I suppose?". Boone remained motionless but his brain was whirring below his mop of black tangles. Why is she here? She isn't supposed to be here. It was disposed to be a solo mission. A Solo mission goddammit! I was promised to be the only one... Then why is she here? WHY? Unless.... His thoughts were cut in had by the fat woman, who had removed a chest and had placed it on the table. She slowly opened it, and turned it round, for Boone to see its contents. Inside, laid in a purple pillow of silk, as a arrow shaped fragment. He reached for it, but the fat lady shut it, flashing her ugly smile. "No. My dear Boone. Just no. If you want it, you have to listen first." She paused for a minute, then continued, "well. The last time we met, it was the day when I was to be deployed. My mission, was to infiltrate this very church and get the same thing that you earn so badly. But in here, I learnt who I truly was. I wasn't a thief. That was never my destiny. My destiny was to do with the shard, of course, but not how you would imagine. I was to defend it. May the Lord my God protect us and forgive you, my deaf Boone." She smiled again, and suddenly, the doors behind her opened. Boone had just enough time to turn back before the men open fired.
---
"Bitch"-"no good waste of space"- "abomination of the creed"- "ugly bitch" screamed Boone into the fat lady's ear, all his anger focused on the blob that now blocked out the maroon carpet. Around him was a destroyed office, with tattered tapestries and bullet holes in the concrete walls. The sound had been immense, and had attracted half the neighbourhood.
As Boone calmly walked out of the shell of a building, his hand clutched around a sleek briefcase that held contents that could destroy the whole city, a satisfaction dawned over Boone. It was a different feeling, a feeling of euphoria and joy, knowing that his last demon had been slain. All that was left of the demon was on its way to the morgue, covered in white bedsheets.
(Sec)
