four.

3 3 1
                                    

((this chapter contains no sugar coating of the main character committing murder. before reading please remember this is purely fictional.))

I don't remember saying anything to ashton after jack hung up on me. I gathered my stuff in a hurry with thoughts rushing through my head like highways in New York City.

before i had time to clear my head from all the blurred out visions i was imaging i got text with the location of a new mission. the text mentioned the time and place of the person that i'm ordered to kill. they never mention how i'm supposed to do it but they know damn well i get it done. and depending on what the person did, or how guilty they look standing behind my gun of choice for the day, is what determines how i'm going to rip them apart to pieces in my hands.

whoever this guy is, and whatever he did, he better be begging for forgiveness from whatever god he believes in because i'm going to rip him to shreds. The warehouse is going to be freshly painted with his blood and cries for help.

i park my car behind the building so i have easy access to it when i need to get my toys. after changing my shirt and fixing up my australian beach curls, i fix my badge and gun like usual and make my way inside carefully after checking that i'm not being followed or watched.

i can already hear the familiar voices of people on my team talking to who i assumed was my target. i can feel the blood in my veins pumping harder by every step i take inside this place. i have so much shit bottled in and this- this is better than some nonsense therapy session with a hot chick, or jacking off to a pornstar on a pay-per-view.

i can't wait to hear his bones break n my hands and see the life flashing out in his eyes. i shouldn't have this much love for murder, but it's the only love i know that doesn't fade away, and to that i'm addicted.

"you better start talking before luke comes in," one of them tells the man tied up in the chair before throwing ice cold water on him, earning a groan filled with pain from the man.

"he's a little late for that," i add, closing the door behind me. the four faces in the room turn their heads to face me, some showing fear, some showing a welcoming expression. my eyes scan the room before landing on the poor man who's unfortunate enough to fall under my hands tonight.

as i step closer to the center, standing in front of the man, the two guys on either sides of me start telling me what he had done. all the words coming out of their mouth is as useless as a wallet with nothing inside it.

before i open my mouth to speak the guy tied down in front of me throws a chuckle my way, "oh the famous almighty luke hemmings. what an honor." i furrow my eyebrows.

"does this seem like a joke to you?" i look him, silencing the other two lads in the room. he grins at me. first mistake. "i know all about you, luke"

"i can see right through that cover you hold up." he adds with a smirk at the end. he's not done yet, i cross my arms over my chest waiting for him to continue.

"you think you're all strong and powerful because you know how to kick and punch people but that's all talk because you're not strong at all, are you luke? i mean, after all, you used to hide behind your brother when your daddy came home drunk, right? your just your daddy's little toy. that's why your mama left you right? all alone. isn't that why you're always angry? always killing everyone to feel better about yourself?" he spat. second mistake.

i step closer to him, my hands gripping his shirt. "you open your mouth one more time with words like that and i'm going to end your life with my bare hands." the serious tone in my voice sent chills and tension across the room we're in.

he chuckles, throwing a spit at me. "that was your last mistake." i pushed him down, the cheap wooden chair he was on was so overused that it broke as soon as he hit the ground, ignoring my supposedly teammates i straddle him, my body aching, ready to break every bone in his.

"luke, he's just messing with your mind." the guy in a navy blue pullover called, trying to get my attention. i let out a soft chuckle. he did more than mess with my mind. he messed with the monster in me.

he messed with his only chance to ever see sunlight again. his eyes soon realized that when the blood drooling from his nose and mouth was all over my knuckles. his groans and whimpers were starting to fill the room, pumping my need to beat him more.

i took a deep breath when i was pulled back by the other guy in the room, the one in a dark gray sweatshirt. "this isn't worth our time, luke. look what you had done to your hands." i hold my hands in front of me, between me and the man knocked out on the floor and a satisfied smirk made its way to my lips when i saw the bruised up knuckles i had. it's been a while since i felt this good.

and it wasn't about to end here.

when they finally get the man tied up standing by the post i watch the blood run slow down his lips, his black eyes manage to look at me with a hidden look of horror in them. my thought wondered what he was thinking. the two men were packing up to leave, all of us knowing there's no way in hell he's going to make it out of here.

i start to turn towards the door, forcing myself away before i run back to him and snap his head out of his body to watch his soul leave his sorry eyes to wherever the fuck dead people go in the afterlife.

"do- do tell me, hemmings," he stated my back still facing him.

"did your mama ever kiss you goodbye before leaving? or were his lips too sealed by another mans?"

i begged my life for the two men to still have been here, to stop me, plead for me to keep the man alive, so his last hours would be in this empty, shallow place. tortured. and alone.

but they were gone. and so was his chance of staying alive.

i reach down to grab the knife i always keep in handy, too focused on what i'm doing to think about getting my gun. before he could guess it, i stand up straight, still facing the door while my hand works it's way throwing the knife back at him.

i wish he was alive to hear the sound of the knife breaking through his brain, hitting the hardwood behind him. i turn around, my eyes filled with pleasure at the image in front of them, and tell him, the last words he'll ever hear before the demons in hell welcome him.

"don't you talk about my mother like that."

and with that, i took my knife out of his dead body, trying my hardest not to think about the need i have of stabbing it in every inch of him. i clean it with the cloth that was wrapped around his neck and fix it back on me before i make my way out.

my thoughts wonder.

who can save me,

if i'm the monster they all run from.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Mar 30, 2018 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

clandestine.Where stories live. Discover now