Fearless

1. The Happy Beginning

Alex loved the fog.
It was like a portal. It transports you to a different world, where you can't see where you're going and no one can see you coming. There's something weirdly calming about surrendering control to the nothingness around you.
She set her bag down by the track and let the cold bite at her skin for a minute.
Then, she set the timer, got into position, and...
Go.
Funny enough, the only time she felt like she was going anywhere was when she was running in circles on a track. Maybe it was the fog, creating a door that she could burst through without hesitation. Maybe it was the fact that no one could see her.
Her sparkling golden streaks. The twisting and striking vein-like tendrils that seemed painted onto her skin. The gently sizzling steam that trailed behind her.
She almost fell over as she stopped from the momentum. Her timer beeped. She checked her wrist watch.
4.23 miles.
One minute for just that? She was slow today.
She watched as the lines slowly disappeared, as the streaks turned back to her normal, frizzy black, and as the steam faded away to blend into the mist.
***

"I want you to get me that girl."
"Dead or alive?"
"Well, you get right to the point, don't you?" The man paused. He sat back in his fancy chair, without a care in the world for the killer in front of him. Funny the confidence money gives you. "However you like. I just need her blood."
Said killer smiled.
"And the money?"
"You get your money when I get my body."
"Hey, the druggie's got some sense." He sneered.
One little unfortunate fact about working with this guy: he had not a pinch of respect for anyone he thought under him, and that was everyone.
Not that the people he worked for deserved any.
The rich man resisted to urge to punch him. "Look, kid. You get the job done, hear me? You've got yourself a reputation, and if you don't deliver on it, then..."
"Then I walk away penniless and unharmed." The man panicked when he felt his throat being restricted. No breath would come in, no cry would come out.
He grasped for air and flailed his arms. His face turned beet red.
He could die right there, and no one would ever know.
The hopelessness was almost worse than the suffocation. The hopelessness of being reminded that money was worth jack shit when you have pure, animalistic power.
And then he was let go. He fell to the ground, trying to comprehend how the kid in front of him was 17.
"A word of advice." He crouched down. "Don't point a finger at someone who could snap your neck."
"Don't... fail.." The guy raspily whispered.
Daniel Lopez chuckled. "You're funny."
***

"Margaret." Ryan acknowledged her with a dead tone.
"Now is that how you greet your own mother?" She looked amused as she motioned for her assistant to hand her some papers.
"I think we've passed the point of honorifics."
He took them from her with a glare. "You haven't given me one in a while, almost thought you were done."
"Oh, this one's a special one." She smiled. Not a kind smile.
"She's in high school." He noticed as he flipped through the pages.
"A problem?"
It wasn't.
"She's my age." He rarely got assigned teenagers. Apparently he was more likely to get attached to someone his age. He sighed. "What'd her family do?"
"You don't need to know. All you need to do is get it done. Remember if you take too long, I stick Marilyn's hands in a shredder. Don't fail me."
His electric blue eyes almost glowed. "I don't plan to."