Mr. X Page 5

  The knocking doesn’t stop, so I get up from the chair and walk to the door with the gun in my hand. I recognize the knocks. It’s a familiar rhythm. Frowning, I open the door, but there’s nobody there, so I stick out my head.

  “Didn’t anyone teach you not to look?” Antonio says.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I say when I spot him leaning against the wall of the building with his hands in his pockets.

  “Hello to you too.”

  I check my watch. “It’s way too soon. I was supposed to have until 6 a.m.”

  He shrugs. “I was early.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Have you killed her yet?”

  “No.”

  His eyebrows rise and his eyes narrow. Shit. “Any reason why?”

  I smile. “I wanted to have a little ‘personal’ time with her.”

  “Personal …” Antonio cocks his head.

  Repeating what I said means he doesn’t believe me. And he’s right, because I never have personal time with my victims. I couldn’t care less about them, and usually want to kill them as fast as possible. However, that’s not the case with her. I have to make up something fast, before he becomes suspicious.

  “You know. Fun. Ever heard of it?” Of course he knows. We torture people every day.

  His lips part, but nothing comes out. He just nods.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a hostage to get back to.”

  “Stop.”

  I hear him move away from the wall and step closer to me. This isn’t going well. If they even suspect something’s up, he’ll have to take action, no doubt about it. I’d like to avoid that.

  With my back to him, I cease moving.

  “You will kill her,” he says calmly. Too calm.

  “Yes.”

  “Now.”

  I take a deep breath and sigh. “Last I recalled, you were not my superior.”

  “I’m not, but this is just a friendly warning. You know the code.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I do.” I turn around and face him. He runs his fingers through his hair like the impatient dipshit he is. “Be back in thirty. You can help me clean up then.” I flash him a smirk, which he gobbles up like no other. His face lights up like a Christmas tree. That bastard always loves the mess I leave. He has a thing for blood.

  “I’ll see you in a few,” Antonio says. I wink and enter the room again, silently closing the door behind me. With my back against the wood, I take a deep breath and grind my teeth. Fuck. I guess I have no choice but to kill her.

  Walking to the bed, I try not to pay attention to her. Try not to notice her fearful eyes and shaking hands as I tear the blanket away from her. I hold up the gun and point it at her.

  “Are you going to kill me now?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallows, tears flooding her eyes. I refuse to let it get to me.

  “I understand …” she murmurs. “Please, let me watch the sunrise.”

  “What?”

  “The sunrise. I want to see it one last time.”

  My mind suddenly stops working. Baffled. That’s what I am. This one thing she asks of me peels away the layers of protection I built around myself long ago. The request is one that I didn’t expect of her, even though I know her so well. I never imagined she’d still want to watch it come up. Memories long forgotten, but the desire to repeat past experiences still linger. She is still that same person.

  Only in a much more fucked-up way.

  I shake my head and sigh again. I jerk at the ropes, undoing them quickly, as I don’t want to waste any time. I refuse to let this get to me. I have a job to do. This needs to be done, end of story. She needs to die. I will be the one to pull the trigger.

  “Time does not exist, only the notion that it does makes us believe we have control over it.” – Clarissa Wild

  Chapter 5

  Jay

  A cold shiver runs up and down my spine as he unwinds the ropes from my wrists and ankles. His gun is still pointed at my head, his fingers ready to pull the trigger. I know what’s coming. The determination in his voice tells me enough. He’s finally decided. He’ll kill me. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t escape. I know he’d shoot me in a blink. I can’t run, I can’t hide. All I can do is hope. Hope is the only thing I have left.

  The sun is calling me. Bright orange light shines through the gaps in the curtains, a sight that makes me anxious as well as calm. Knowing that this is where it all ends is frightening, but peaceful. I’ve never known what it was like to know when you’re going to die, but now that I do I find it oddly comforting. To know that I can count down the seconds and wait until he pulls the trigger.

  I won’t let him get away with it easily, though. I will look him straight in the eye and force him to watch. He should see the evil reflected in my eyes.

  “Get your ass up from that bed,” he says, flicking his gun.

  I push myself up from the bed, my hands sore from the ropes burning my skin. My legs shake as I walk to the window. X perches a chair behind me. His hands are on my shoulders, nudging me down. It’s strange to feel his hands on me, strange because they remind me of something … or someone … but I have no clue why. He is awfully soft with me, his hand lingering in the nook of my neck. I have no idea why it sticks with me so much, but it does. It feels familiar and secure. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.

  With his other hand he rips open the curtain, and in a flash I’m blinded by light.

  “You’re lucky,” he says. “I normally never fulfill last wishes, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

  “And why is that?” I ask, staring into the distance. I can’t even see the horizon from here, but at least I can see the colors in the sky, and the way the sun paints it like a canvas.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, his gun makes a clicking sound and then I feel the cold metal against the back of my head.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say, swallowing away the fear and tears.

  “Go ahead, although I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

  “I know. I just want to know … Why?”

  It takes him a while to answer. “Because you are you.”

  “That doesn’t explain anything.”

  “You’re here because you were meant to be here. The choices you made all led you to this point in time. There is no denying that this is your fault, too.”

  “Too? So you’re admitting this isn’t all on me?”

  Again, he doesn’t answer, which tells me enough.

  “You have fifteen minutes,” he murmurs.

  This time I’m the one who doesn’t say a word. Instead, I watch the sun as it rises above the skyline, bathing our world in light. It’s almost unbelievable serene, in a morbid way. Still, I’m glad I get to watch this one more time before I’m gone. The sun always meant a lot to me.

  “You know, when I was young, I used to watch the sun come up every day.”

  “Hmm …”

  “There was this boy who would come and watch it with me.”

  X’s fingers twitch and for a second I believe he’s actually listening to me.

  Not that it matters. All I want is to go back to those days when everything was so much easier and less fucked up. Just thinking about it takes me back to the time I was still oblivious to all the evil in this world.

  ***

  Friday, June 22nd, 2005

  People are partying so hard downstairs the entire house is shaking. When I shut the door, the music is suddenly a lot less ear-deafening. I honestly can’t believe why the fuck I came to this party in the first place. It’s crowded with stupid people.

  I check out the room and notice a window in the back. Perfect. I always try to find the most secluded spots in a house, because I love being alone with my thoughts. I love just wandering around and exploring stuff. Besides, this party is so freaking boring, nobody even noticed I was gone. That’s obviously not right, since I’m usually the party starter. At least
, at parties where they actually play good music and bring out the alcohol, for fuck’s sake.

  I open the window and make sure there is sufficient space to place my feet before I make the climb. It doesn’t take me long to settle on the rooftop and sit my ass down. This house has a perfect view of the skyline, and it’s filled with stars. I marvel at the sight of them, appreciating their glow. It almost makes me forget about the horrible music and squabbling of the people downstairs.

  It almost makes me forget about my own life.

  The world is hell and the stars are the fairytale I cling to.

  Sitting here, looking up at the stars reminds me of all those times I used to stare at the sky. During the times my father was away for work and left me with the babysitter who cared more about fucking the sexy boy next door in the master bedroom than she cared about looking after me. Or after the times my father screamed at me for picking my own wardrobe, listening to different music, or otherwise embarrassing him, as he called it. Yup, it happened a lot. When you never get hugged, you forget what it’s like to feel loved. When you don’t remember what love feels like, you tend to want to escape. Escaping has become a way of life for me. Parties. Drugs. Alcohol. I don’t care. Nobody cares, so why should I?

  I watch the stars at the times I feel lonely and whenever I need to comfort myself with the thought there is someone looking out for me. Somewhere out there is someone who is looking at the stars right when I am, someone who loves them as much as I do. Someone like my mother. I wish I knew what happened to her.

  All I know is that she was there … and then she wasn’t. I was too young to remember any of it, but I know I had a mother before I was six … somewhere after that she just disappeared.

  I sigh, staring at the sky, wondering where she went. I wonder what she’s like and if she would have stayed by my side. If she would love me, because my father can’t.

  I’m startled by the noise coming from the window. A foot comes out and soon a guy steps out onto the rooftop. There goes my silent little retreat.

  He turns to look at me, baffling me with his attention-demanding eyes. Not in a bad way, but in a surprising kind of way. He runs his fingers through his tousled black hair as he comes toward me. Somehow, he looks a bit familiar.

  “Got room for one more?” he asks.

  “Go ahead.”

  I scoot over a little, giving him room to sit down. He’s carrying a couple of beer cans and sets them down beside him. When he spots me looking at them, he says, “Want one?”

  I gasp. “Where did you get them?”

  “Found them in the fridge when no one was looking.” His answer is straightforward, no-lie, I shit you not. A quirky smile appears on his face, and as my jaw drops, he grins.

  I like this guy already.

  “I’m not the sharing type, but I’ll make an exception for you,” he says, throwing one of the cans into my hands.

  I snort. “And why’s that?”

  “Oh, I just wanted a quiet place on the roof and here I find you doing the same thing. Meeting random strangers is a fun way to pass the time.”

  I shake my head, laughing to myself as I open the can. “Other than going crazy at some random party?”

  “I was never really a partygoer.”

  I take a sip. “Same here.” I look at him, and he smiles. I can’t stop thinking that I know that smile from somewhere. “Do I know you somehow?” I ask tentatively.

  He laughs. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  I shrug and take another sip. “Forget it.”

  “So why are you here then?” he asks.

  “Oh, no reason. I just like staring at the stars.”

  “Really? Me too. They remind me that the world is so puny in comparison to what’s out there.”

  “Hmm …” I take another sip and lean back. “You’re right. It does put everything in perspective.”

  “Right.” He winks and lifts his can. “To the stars.”

  We toast and drink some more, silently staring at the sky.

  “So why aren’t you down there with the rest?” I ask after a while.

  “I told you, I’m not a partygoer.”

  “Yeah, but why are you here then?”

  “Oh … some other reason. I prefer to just enjoy the view here.”

  “Other reason?” I ask.

  He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. “Do you always ask that many questions to random strangers?”

  A flush spreads across my cheeks. “Hey, I’m only trying to get to know this random stranger.”

  He smiles. “No need. You probably won’t ever see me again.”

  I frown.

  Suddenly a scream alerts all my senses. I sit up straight as an influx of screams fill the hallways of the house. My eyes widen and I get up immediately. The guy next to me looks confused, but I’m too curious to find out what happened. I put my feet back through the window before I look. “Oh God …” I stammer. The bed in the room is stained red and the pillow is ripped apart, feathers scattered across the room. On the floor is a trail of blood.

  My eyes widen. I get the urge to throw up, but manage to keep it down by closing my eyes right away. I turn around, back to the window, and take in a huge gulp of air. It feels like my lungs are constricted. From the corner of my eye I spot people running out of the house, yelling, “There’s a dead body!”

  When I look to the left, up to the roof, the stranger is gone.

  ***

  Friday, August 16th, 2013. 5:30 a.m.

  “Are you done?” X asks, putting his gloves back on.

  I nod, taking a deep breath. Tears well up in my eyes, because I can’t believe this is the end. It’s too soon. I regret that I haven’t done all the things I wanted to do before I died. Traveling the world, climbing a mountain, doing some charity work, sailing the oceans. I wanted to do it all.

  And now it’s too late.

  I was weak. Years wasted on drugs and sex. Mindless fucking with strangers never got me anywhere. Instead, I ended up here, being a fucking pole dancer, a hooker, someone who lives for the money to waste it all on simple pleasures. What a failure.

  I lower my head and contemplate my sins. X places the gun against the back of my head, the cold metal making my heart beat in my throat. It’s happening. It’s really happening. In a few moments I’ll be dead. Will it hurt? Or will it be quick and merciful? Where will I go?

  I hear him take in a sharp breath, his hand steadying on my shoulder. “If you move, I will hurt you. If you stay still, this will be quick and painless.”

  I nod, closing my eyes. A single tear trickles down my cheek. This is it. This is the end. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock reminds me that I’m still here, on this very earth. Each passing second is another granted. If I could do it all over, I would, but it wouldn’t be the same. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I would appreciate the short-lived life I received.

  And as I hear the rattling of the gun, and feel the way it shifts on my skull, his fingers tense up, squeezing my shoulder. I say goodbye to the brief life I was given.

  But then the gun disappears from the back of my head and the man that was standing behind me is gone.

  “Goodness is subjective.” – Notes of X

  Chapter 6

  X

  Control is an illusion. Even in the direst situations we are incapable of influencing that which cannot be influenced. My conscience is one of those things.

  I look at my watch and check the time. Five minutes past the deadline. The choice has been made. A choice that will not go unpunished. However, I will be damned if I do what they ask of me. Killing her wasn’t part of the plan, it never was. She was supposed to suffer, but not to the point of annihilation. I wanted her to live with the pain, the regret, the anger, the hurt, but what I found was worse. Someone who had lost all will to live. Someone just like me.

  Except, when I burst into her room, she suddenly regained the strength to fight.

  I can’t lose that. It�
��s the best thing I’ve ever seen. That viciousness in her eyes as I took from her what she deemed hers: her freedom. I don’t want to lose it. I treasure it. I want to keep it and claim it as my own.

  I will take her and make her mine. Her suffering should last longer than just these few years. If they want her dead, they can pry her from my cold hands. I will not let them take what is mine. Her life is mine to give and take. I decide when this game is over.

  Opening the door, I peer outside and spot the two black cars in the parking lot. There’s one more down the road. Three guys. One is inside, the others are missing. Going from previous experience, one will be waiting in the clerk’s room, while the other is perched right beside the building, waiting for me to come out.

  I turn back around and close the door. Jay comes up from her seat, her face pale like she’s seen a ghost. Her eyes dart from the closed window to the door I’m standing in front, and then to my gun. I know what she’s thinking.

  “You won’t escape. The window is locked.”

  “Why haven’t you killed me?” she asks, her face going slack. She’s falling apart. Being on the brink of death has ruined her. I am a monster, because I revel in the sight. I live to see this anguish on her face.

  With determination I stride toward her and grab her arm firmly. All of a sudden she recovers her will to fight back and she’s trying to jerk herself free. I push the gun into her stomach. “Stop resisting.”

  “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

  I ignore her and move straight for the door, dragging her along with me. If this is going to happen, it’ll happen now. I have the upper hand. They’re not expecting me to come out yet. The ball is in my court now, and I have made my decision.

  Before I open the door, I turn her toward me, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t move unless I tell you to. You come with me and do as I say, got it?”