16|D-DAY

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7th December

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7th December

Silas Reyes

The note sat beside her. The note that had haunted her for months, until this day when it became a reality. This was the last step in her plan before she could leave.

Samuel and she could have gotten rid of her father earlier but that meant that she would have had to stay around for Silas.

That's not what she wanted.

She and Samuel devised a plan. He would deal with her father and message her when the task was completed. Then, she would deal with Silas and she would vanish.

Her gun and knife were in her garter belt. She was ready.

"What's that?" Silas asked, referring to the note. He'd returned after getting Mélissandre a cup of water.

She fumbled with the note and put it in her bag, "Nothing. Just scrap."

Silas invited her over since it was just the two left and she'd acted pretty rattled at school. Although, he assumed it was due to the fact that the majority of her family had been murdered.

He sat down and sank into the plush sofa. He took a few sips of his rum and he failed to see the tiny bubbles that disrupted the calm surface. "It's crazy," he spoke with disbelief. "And to think that we were friends with these people, these... criminals."

Mélissandre scoffed on the inside. She could practically see the white dust under his nose and the note inside her bag told her that he was far from a saint.

"You're not all that innocent," she commented and he chuckled.

"Mél, many people do drugs. Even professional athletes. The only thing that Chris did wrong was that he got caught. Minor," he brushed it off as if it was no big deal and continued to sip on his drink.

In comparison to Mélissandre, he was right. Christopher's crime was no big deal compared to the slaying of her family. Christopher's crime was no big deal compared to what she was about to do.

Her phone vibrated beside her and she picked it up in her hands. The words: I'm outside filled her screen.

"Who's that?" He asked curiously. Who else did she have left that wasn't her father?

"Some guy that won't leave me alone," she shrugged. "You spend one night with a guy and he won't piss off."

"Tell me about it," Silas laughed. "Obviously I mean girls."

"Are you sure that you're not the one chasing the girl?" She suggested and Silas' face scrunched into confusion.

"What are you fucking suggesting?" He became aggravated. Silas sat forward, his forearms rested on his unsteady knees.

Mélissandre gulped down her glass of water and set it down on the table. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked around to perch on the armrest beside Silas. Her two fingers stroked down the side of his neck. "You're not that different from Beckett. You're worse," she leaned into his ear.

"Whatever you think you-"

"I've had it described to me in a way," her hand skimmed up her thigh to grip her knife, "where I saw it happen in front of my very eyes." She placed the blade on the bottom of his spine, felt him tense up, and dragged it up to the base of his skull. "Where I felt frozen and terrified to the core," Mélissandre curved the knife around his neck to his chin and lifted it so his face tilted up to hers, "and that makes me feel sick to the core thinking about that poor girl, Penny Kline."

Anger glitched through his hooded eyes and he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, ah, ah," she sliced his cheek. "I have the upper hand," Mélissandre dragged the knife down his chest and left a red trail. "I thought you'd be more fun to play with... disappointing."

Silas fell back into the sofa, his muscles felt weak and tired. "Mél, Did you drug me?"

She slid on top of his lap, crossed her legs, hooked an arm around his neck and leaned into his chest. "You must not take drugs as often as you think if you have to ask me... yes, I did. I thought you'd like a taste of your own medicine."

The two sat in silence for a few seconds. "Wow, you're fucking boring. Just tell me where you put her body and I can finally put myself out of this misery."

Silas sighed. He had no energy to even fight back with words. "The roses," he whispered. He was falling asleep so Mélissandre stabbed him in the thigh and his eyes shot open with a scream.

"I would love to make this as painful as possible but I'm on a time limit and my grandma had a better reaction than you," she stood up and dislodged the knife from his thigh and inserted it into his chest.

He grunted in pain and his hands immediately went to grab the handle. "I didn't say that I wasn't going to try and make it painful."

Sirens sounded from outside of the walls.

"They're gonna... find you," Silas wheezed out through the excruciating pain.

"No. Just you and her," she took out her gun and pointed in between his eyes. "This was nowhere near as painful as it should have been." The trigger was pulled and his lifeless body sat there.

She'd already touched the knife and drank from the glass. This could easily be traced back to her so to top it all off, she spat at him.

The sirens were getting louder and her heartbeat was getting faster and faster. Mélissandre picked up her bag and dashed for the door where Samuel was on the other side.

"It's done," she confirmed.

He took her hand in his and led her to his car. "Great. You're free now so if you don't want to go through with this, then you don't have to. You can choose." They both got into the car and he drove off.

"Samuel, you're the only person I have right now. I know this is sick but I'm really thankful for you and everything you've done."

"Everything I've done?" He fished for a compliment but she only raised her eyebrows. "Besides, I was hired to kill. What do you think my background is?" He was trying to make her feel better. "So, where you going?"

"Anywhere with you."

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