Where We Go

Chapter 7 - Decisions

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The players have all been assembled. Only one remains to join the game, but he will come in time. Now is the time to begin.

We have the girl. So innocent, so carefree, until her parents died. Their screams were terribly satisfying.

We have her brother. There's something not quite right about him. He didn't cry.

We have the friend. He is troubled waters, no doubt. He doesn't belong here. I remember his mother.

We have the other boy, indefinable in a word. There's something that he's kept hidden from us. From me.

And we have one more. But he will come down, in time.

It's the beginning of something bigger than all of us. I am merely the lever. My actions will send the machine spinning.

What to do?

Or rather: who to kill.

It's a delicate choice. I don't have the widest selection, and I have to do this right. The first kill is the most important. 

I could kill the girl.

No. None of the main players. That's too much, too soon: it could tip the scales in an unwanted way.

So. The older brother, his boyfriend, the old man, the older sister, or the foster father. 

Decisions, decisions.

Killing the foster father would force the Russian boy to leave. I need him here.

Killing the older sister could, likewise, force the other boy to leave.

Same with the older brother. He's too close to the twins anyway.

So. The boyfriend or the old man.

The old man is vital to the pulse and lifeblood of the town. Killing him would hurt them all too much, in a non-emotional way.

So the boyfriend it is.

What was his name? Josh?

So killing him would make the brother an emotional wreck. He wouldn't take such good care of the twins. So they would go out more, to avoid the shell that they used to call a brother. Probably go to the Russian boys house. Than, if they re-befriend the other boy, they would all be in one place. Except for the last player, but he would come on his own. The perfect crime. 

So. I pull out my tools, my books, my equipment. A proper murder requires proper planning. The question is: how? Do I make I leave a body, evidence, or do I make it clean? There are pros to both. If I make it messy, no doubt the older brother would find it. Wouldn't it be more damaging like that? On the other hand, if it seems like the boyfriend simply disappears, he would dedicate time, energy to trying to find him. But he wouldn't be wrecked. He could still, potentially, pull it together to take care of the children. So.

Messy it is.

Perhaps I'll hang him from the ceiling. Make it look like a suicide. 

Yes, that sounds like a good idea. 

I gather my tools. This won't take much planning. There's no security system to navigate; no guard dog; no anything, really. It's almost pathetic how little they care for their safety.

So. It won't take long.

The car is waiting: tinted windows, bulletproof tires, the whole nine yards. No expense was spared for this mission, including in my paycheck. My tools are state of the art, freshly sharpened, ready for anything. I myself am one of the most accomplished and skilled for-hires out there. That's what they call people like me. "For-hires".

The drive is short and uneventful. I can here vague snores from inside the bedroom I aim for. I open the window, sneak inside. There are two warm bodies lying side-by-side in the bed, arms curled around each other.

Good.

I bring out the rag soaked in sedative, bring it to the taller one's mouth and nose. He was already sleeping, but this will guarantee that he will stay that way.

I slit his throat. Blood, dark red, rich, bubbles up. I let it run freely. It doesn't take long to finish the work.

Later

Back in the car, I reflect on the joy of a job well done. It was so easy it almost felt like cheating. The boyfriend, once a beautiful young man, is now an unrecognizable lump of meat. Blood is everywhere. I decided to (minorly) sedate the brother as well; him waking up during the process would be undesired. The twins slept the whole night through in peace.

For now, my job is done. I head home in joy.