VOLTAGE

Untitled Part 3

1 year later

Day 372

10:58am

They should really make these bigger, I know they're meant for baggage but sometimes they need to hide a 17 year old symbiotic assassin. Like right now.   Seriously, What are in these bags!?! I wonder if billionaires pack differently than the rest of us...I hear foot steps outside my compartment I look out the the tiny door slit and find a stocky well dressed guard. Why do all guards look the same? Its like they make these guys a a factory or something. I knock on the compartment  door. Startled, the bald white guard (one of the probably millions worldwide) begins looking around. Eventually he turns to my compartment, fumbles with the handle, and succeeds in opening it. Light floods the compartment. Words cannot express the amount of shock on this guy's face. I mean how would you react if you found a teenager laying in an over head baggage container in your Boss's private jet, at about 12,000ft. "Its so hard to fall asleep on a plane trip you know?" His jaw still hangs open. I grab his face and proceed to pump electricity into it, he falls unconscious on the floor. No sense of humor. I slide out of the storage area and onto the floor beside him.  I then begin my trek to the back of the jet. I walk past the bathroom when the door opens and another guard attempts to step out. I, of course, stop him by grabbing his face, forcing him back inside the bathroom, dunking his head into the toilet and frying him with raw power. I then close the door and change the door sign from "Vacant" to "Occupied" because although I'm ruthless doesn't mean I don't have manners. I continue on my journey toward my target.Anticipation fills my veins as I get nearer and nearer to my unwitting prey. I close in on the last plane on the jet labeled "Private, Keep Out." Well, I'd better knock then. I stretch out my hand and rack my knuckles on the thin, wooden divider.  I hear someone rise to their feet and step toward the door. Perfect. I press my ear against the cold wood and wait for the sound of fingers meeting a handle. When I kick the door with all my might. The door disintegrates into a blizzard of white painted splinters and the guard is send flying across the mahogany desk. Dramatically I step into the small room and two guards simultaneously draw their weapons. They both fire,  each sending a metal slug hurling towards me. No big deal. I just lean back a bit and let the bullets cross paths. The bullets glide past me and smash into their owner's skulls, spraying hot, red, liquid across the white wall.  As their bodies thump onto the hollow aircraft floor I reach the desk in the room's center.  My target is a cowering of heap terror, shaking and panting behind his mahogany desk. Pathetic. "Mr. Reynolds?" He takes a long moment before he answers me in a wavering, broken voice. "What do you want?!?"  I keep walking toward the desk he cowers behind. "That's irrelevant." He peeks over his barricade with a bewildered look. "But my boss wants you dead so..." His expression turns from confusion to terror. I roll my eyes."Oh, relax. You've got at least a minute to live, I'm not a monster." I lean against the wall in a relaxed state. "I suggest you take this opportunity to get something off your chest, or pray, or..." He slowly stands up on his shaking knees. "I do have something to say." Intrigued, I raise an eyebrow. He takes a deep breath. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! HEEELP!!!" I can't help but chuckle as I slowly step over to the room's doorway where guard's heavy footsteps  can heard. Patiently I wait for his sentries to attempt to rescue him. A guard's built, suited body emerges through the doorway and makes its way to their bosses desk. I reach up behind his bald head, finding his smooth chin and glossy forehead and twist until I can feel a "pop" in his neck causing his body to go limp in my arms. Horror flashes across Mr. Reynold's face as I stand, still holding the body. I reach for the gun in my corpse's hand and grab the fist still clenching the weapon. I then aim his arm towards my target whose terrified form has realized my plan.  I reach for the trigger which the guard's lifeless finger still holds and stop. Looking at Mr. Reynold's petrified features whose once neat black hair now hangs in sweaty locks across his brow. "This execution is brought to you free, compliment of the  sentinels." He looks like he's about to burst into tears. That would be hilarious. "Oh, and Ganton says hi." I pull the trigger, sending recoil up my forearm and spraying trillionaire  blood across the walls. I drop the body, adjust my hoodie and walk out of the room. Turning right I head farther toward the tail of the plane as my assignment  is almost over.  A strong humming surrounds me as the engine room gets closer and closer. Finding the door and assuming its locked I kick it down. Because door knobs are overrated. The humming is much stronger from the moment I enter the dark room. I soon find the sound originates from a large metal box. CAUTION: HIGH VOLTAGE Well its about get higher. I grab the box with both hands and begin conducting electricity. Sparks fly in all directions as the lights begin to flicker. The box begins melting and generating a horrible metallic sound. Finally the lights stop, as do the engines, everything goes silent. The once dark goes room goes full Goth. The only sound is the whistling of wind over the wings.