A Rose Dipped in Blood

Prologue

The room smelled of dust and day old milk, the sun was low in the sky just beginning to set. She was standing beneath a crane, as a man strolled by with a large black case chained to his wrist.

All of the workers too busy with the construction of the new Target to pay any attention to her. She glanced around and found that they were all far off, nobody was in her vicinity. It was the perfect place for her to kill him. No one would know and she would get her revenge.

James Delacore wore a tight fit suit, black pants with an expensive looking blazer. His tie was pure white without a stain. He didn't seem to notice her, his grizzled face and hard eyes staring straight ahead.

He fished inside his pocket and took out a key attached to a large key chain laced with green diamonds. Her pulse quickened as she recognized the diamonds and rage roared within her.

She clicked the safety off her M1911 Colt and quietly sprinted to a car much closer to him. A rock bounced off her foot and scrambled near a white Toyota. He hadn't seemed to notice. She released her breath and realized she had been holding it. The silencer was attached, just as they had told her to do it.

James inserted his key into the trunk and it popped open like a spring. She almost gasped as guns and other devices inhabited it. He lifted one up and pretended to shoot something, a grin on his face. How dare that murdering bastard joke about shooting someone.

When his back finally turned to face the opposite direction, she snuck up even closer, sprinting to hide behind a different car. She waited for the heavy slamming of the car trunk before peeking at him. He was sitting atop of the trunk, dialing a phone number.

"Do you have the money?" He asked into the phone, his husky voice echoing slightly in her direction. She was able to make out 'yes' before the crackling of the phone was all she could hear. But she had heard enough.

She ran out from behind the car and charged at him, her skirt flying behind her heels. She cocked the gun and aimed it at his chest.

"Die you son of a bitch," she shrieked and shot the entire clip. One bullet after another. The first three lodged themselves into the base of his car, the next six pounded into his chest. While the last one sailed multiple feet beside the car and caused the headlight of a car a few rows back to explode. The car alarm wailed.

Delacore fell off the car landing roughly on the cement ground. Blood leaked from his wounds and filled the space around him. She slowly advanced toward him, her hands shaking with fear and triumph. As she neared him she slipped on medical gloves and pulled a red rose from her pocket. She laid it gently on his stomach.

The color of the rose matched perfectly with the shade of his crimson blood.