Shadow's Within

5 : My target found me

The cold air ravages my body, clouding my skin with frosty chill. "What was that dream?" I remembered.

Those were my childhood memories. That girl was me. Why had it come back to haunt me. I had buried those nightmarish scene years before. The hellish torture and torment I endured broke me of my childhood.

Sweat still trickling down my cheek. My hearts been panting hard knocking my chest back and forth. I head forward the kitchen and catch my hand over a pair of cold beer. The beer vanish almost instantly before I could even enjoy it some more.

Then it hits me. Running back last night had clouded my thoughts. I remembered my organization warning of my failure. Two times and that's it. I'm dead.

"Oh my god!" I snapped.

"This is bad.....this is bad......this is bad....." the only word I keep repeating over and over pacing myself over the luminescent light of the television.

I'm definitely on the organization wanted list. I had failed last night. The mysterious guy yesterday would come hunt me to collect his prize. My head!

Without hesitation, I shuffle my feet over to my bed and take out a duffel bag. I rummaged through the closet for any easy shirt and pants and stuffed them inside the bag. Before I realized I'm already pack with enough clothes. I'm doing this. This is it. I can't afford to be careless or my head would be claimed.

"But wait" a voice in my head spoke. "Where would you go?" The voice asked. "There's no running from the organization".

That broke me. A sudden wash of realization poured down on me. Where would I run? There is no place safe in the world to hide in sight from the organization. They would not stop searching for me and I know for a fact they have the ability to find me no matter where I flee or hide in disguise.

I'm scared. I'm taken aback to my 9 year old self; the age in my dream. It was before I was recruited into the organization. I was living alone on the street; scavenging for any scrapes the world had left for me. I had nobody, no friends or families. The terror a child had to encounter on the street of New York could break me. I survived numerous creep and demon-like people. There was even a single pedophile that almost claimed me in my time of need.

I was myself again; in my room, awaiting my doom or reliving my determination to escape and live to tell my tale. Should I be doing this? Run free in the world like a stray cat, foraging vile food so that I could avoid my death sentence.

"NO!" I yelled.

The voice before started to speak but I whist it away. No looking back. This is the time. I need to break free now or forever be doom in the hand of another killer in my organization.

I look down and noticed I'm still bare naked; my body showing over. "Great" I muttered. I can pack about 7 clothes and I couldn't even remarked to cover my body. That would lend me a great disguise; running down the street of Manhattan with my naked lithe figure for all the weirdos and creep to see.

From the nearby clothes rack, I plucked a black cardigan and sweep if over my body and cover my leg with a skinny denim Levi jeans.

I pull the duffel bag over my shoulder and head on to the door before a loud knock surprise me to my feel.

"KNOCK!"

Did they learn of my failure ever so fast? I thought about it for a second but then a second knock land of the door.

"KNOCK!KNOCK!"

My feet is stammered, I couldn't move it. Again, a third knock come. I want to peek at the door hole and embrace my eyes of my visitor at this hour. Somehow I hesitated, my feet couldn't breeze through the floor.

The knock frightens me. It could lead to my death. Thoughts of death scenario repeating inside my head; beheaded, shot between my eyes, disembowel, scattered pieces all over for dogs to scrap my meat.

I reach over the kitchen counter for a steel blade knife and hide it within sight behind me. I turn the knob expecting the worst and to my surprise the man standing behind is not I expected at all.

A man in his thirties, clean cut hair, brown vest over a blue shirt; the ghost of my life; the reason for my fright. The man I had failed to latch my bullet inside his head. My target that I was pulling away from had come back to face me. He's there; blue eyes gazing straight into my vision. I faltered.