Vengeance

Chapter 4- Patriots Secret Service

  "782857."

His voice rang in my ears like an alarm bell. 782857? That was the number on the piece of paper I handed over, the one from the table. I looked up at him, my eyes wide open with shock, fear and confusion. Thoughts were racing from one one end of my head to another, jumping up and down forming loopholes which added to my confusion.

Was this the man from the phone? The one who asked me to come here? The one who could've killed my parents? But what would someone who worked in a cafe want from me? What had I ever done to him, that he possibly killed my parents? At the same time though what if he didn't know who I was, he was just as confused as I was and wanted to know what the number meant. No, that didn't make sense or else he wouldn't have whispered it to me, he knew who I was, the only question left was what did he want with me and what does he have to do with my parents?

"Wh-" My voice broke off, I cleared out my throat, and tried again a little louder, "Who are you?" The words just about brushed off my lips.

He paused for what felt like a couple of seconds before straightening up and moving to a side. "782857, it's erm the number for the red door leading to our restroom."

Restroom? Why would I need a restroom? Without thinking I stepped forward behind the till. I looked at the man waiting for him to take the lead, he did. He turned the handle of the knob opening the door only by a small amount leaving an extremely minute gap so I could just about make out the cream and gold colours of the wall. The man then left me to make my way in and 'rest' I guess like you're supposed to. Holding my breath I held the door knob ready to push it forward when,

"Hey, your cupcake." The other worker, who I'd completely forgotten about, sprung up beside me holding out a red velvet cupcake in his hand and smiling at me. I examined him in bewilderment, was he feeling OK? Like, hello, you most likely know who I am and you're giving me a cupcake as if there's something to celebrate, when I'm probably the most wanted person on the FBI, CIA you name it's hit list by now. Maybe it was poisonous. Hmmm.. wouldn't really be surprised after the near events which have occurred, regardless I took the cupcake from his hand.

"You don't need to pay," he added.

I turned back to him in yet more bafflement, but he didn't give me much of a chance to think as he continued to explain himself.

"It was paid for. Before you got here."

Yes, definitely poisonous then. My suspicion was confirmed.

I turned back round to face the door and held my breath once again, my chest tightening as if it was loaded with a burden. Whatever was waiting at the other end of the door had to be faced and I was ready. Ready to face my own death, to be free from this empty, hollow world.

Slowly, I pushed the door open, my eyes half closed, this was it. I walked into the room, the door creaking as it closed behind me. The room was coated in cream paint, the floor covered in a cream coloured carpet. There were two posh looking arm chairs in the middle of the room with a brown table positioned in between them. Not knowing what to do I dragged my legs to the middle of the room and situated myself on one of the armchairs, exhausted. Looking around the room I noticed the glass and marble cupboard lined up against the wall on my left, it was filled with trophies and gold medals a bit unusual for a cafe restroom, no?

Maybe the trophies had a name on them, to whom they belonged and that could possibly help figure out who these people were and what they could possibly want from me? Placing the lethal cupcake on the table I walked over to the cupboard of trophies. The trophies looked extremely old and expensive, the writing on them rusty and unclear. Unsure as to whether I should touch anything I looked around the room to see whether anyone was lurking around the corner. No-one. I guess the person who wanted to see me was late? Or maybe they had their timings calculated and were waiting to make a move at the right time, seen as they paid for the cupcake they were probably already here. Or the person could be the workers wanting to hold me hostage so they could hand me in to the police. I guess it was time to find out?