I loved her, even if she never knew my name. She was my Ariel, and I know I am her Eric.
No matter what she says.
#1 in short story on 02/07/18
This beautiful cover was a gift from @Kmbell92! If you somehow haven't yet, please check her out!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I popped her finger into a plastic baggie, making sure it was sealed properly. I shoved that into an envelope and tucked my demands underneath. My hands were sweating under the gloves, which was utterly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, though, it was a necessary evil. This was risky, and while I had no qualms about what I was setting up to do, that didn't mean I couldn't prepare well beforehand. I may not be the brightest light at times, but that does not mean I am stupid.
My mistakes make me a form of perfection, and teach me how to do something differently.
I sealed the cushioned postal bag, pressing firmly on the edge. Of course, I wouldn't be sending it directly, that would be foolish. Instead, I would be dropping it off at Attina's grandfather's house with the name and address of her father, with a fake address on top and a big urgent stamp on top. If all goes as planned, he would believe the postal had made a mistake.
James Walters would probably be guarded as all hell, and there was little chance I could get past all the security camera's that were littered around the city. But, his dear father wanted nothing to do with the bustle of city life (if you could call it that), although he did want to be near enough to be able to see his sweet granddaughter.
So he lived about five miles from the outskirts, which apparently was good enough.
At least, that's what I'm assuming since his house is almost a direct line out from his son's. Despite that, it was in a nice spot without too many neighbors. He's a café owner, and on his website, his mailing address goes directly to his house, not a P.O. box.
Basically, he was too easy.
Sir James Walters,
I must ask for your full attention. I figure you have seen all the evidence you need that this is legitimate, otherwise you are truly a blind bastard. If that's the case, look no further than the baggie included.
Let me cut this short - If you wish to see your daughter again, you shall heed my demands. Every day you waste, starting the fifth, will be a missing finger and toe. Perhaps, If I'm feeling particularly intrigued, I may even pull out her teeth one by one, and figure out just what the inside of a tongue looks like. And, when your deadline finally hits - the fifteenth - I shall package it all and find some way to ensure you see it.
Of course, if that happens, I will have to kill her too. After all, I'm not for animal cruelty.
On the fourth at 3 pm, take an uncovered wad of 10,000 dollars and leave it at Crans Park after walking somewhere towards the center. Do not take anyone with you, and do not hang around. I will be watching, and if you do so much as one step that appears suspicious, I will kill Jasmine.
