Sequel: Acrasia ›
Status: Da-da-da-da Da-da Done.
Brontide
Him
Chris pushed through to the elevator of a large office building, catching
the door right before it closed and cramming himself inside. The office
employees glanced up from their smartphones for a moment to look at him in
confusion, wondering why a young man they had never seen before would be
there. He calmly smoothed out the freshly pressed grey suit he was wearing
and the others looked back down at their phones, continuing the constant
work they did in their boring black and white lives.
He checked his watch, wondering what they were still doing in the office at
10 pm. He tried his best to hold in a scowl, remembering how his father
was just like them, constantly working and coming home late at night.
Chris thought about the bar he should’ve been at by that time, wondering
how much Alex was trying to rub himself on Rae since he was out “sick”. He
felt bad for the kid sometimes. Alex never actually got the girl.
Chris squeezed his way out of the elevator on the eighth floor, just like
he had been instructed. He made his way around cubicles and offices
without attracting much attention, even though he was far younger than most
employees in the building. He could’ve passed for someone’s son, or
perhaps a young intern. He made his way to the stairs, climbing up onto
the roof of the building.
“In the corner, on the left,” a faint voice buzzed in his earpiece, and he
looked to the corner where he found a large bag of everything he needed.
He pulled a pair of black gloves out of his pocket to prevent leaving
fingerprints, and zipped open the bag to reveal the black clothing and long
sniper gun. He quickly pulled on the clothes, balancing the gun on the
ledge as he lied down on his stomach.
“Target is coming,” the voice in the earpiece buzzed in, “He’ll be in the
glass building across from the one you’re on. Second floor from the top,
in the center.”
Chris aimed the gun at the glass building, waiting for the right moment.
The middle-aged old man came into, followed by a young woman in a business
suit.
“Fuck,” Chris cussed under his breath, “Who’s that? He was supposed to be
alone.”
“We don’t know, either,” the voice in his ear sounded confused, “Can’t be
his wife, and he only has sons. Hold back.”
Chris watched as the man sat down, eyeing the young woman. She suddenly
unbuttoned her top and pulled down her skirt, revealing scandalous lingerie
underneath. Chris cringed as the woman sat in the man’s lap, tracing her
finger down his chest.
“That son of a bitch,” Chris muttered, “It’s a hooker.”
“Do not kill the female,” the voice ordered.
“She’s giving him the full on reverse cowgirl,” Chris complained, “I don’t
have a clear shot.”
“Take the shot.”
“There is no shot.”
“Take the shot, Mr. Huntington.”
Chris pursed his lips, yanking the earpiece out and shoving it into his
pocket. He closed one eye and aimed for the man’s forehead, struggling to
lock on to him as he threw his head back and laughed. Frustrated, he
decided that he had nothing to lose. Chris closed both of his eyes and
took the shot. The sound of shattering glass came from the distance,
followed by a woman’s shriek. He opened his eyes to find the hooker
backing away while pulling her clothes back on, staring with terrified eyes
at the old man she was servicing. He was slumped forward, a bullet hole
clear through his forehead. His white shirt was stained with blood and
looked terrifyingly gruesome, but Chris couldn’t help but smile at what a
good shot it was. No one had to know that his eyes were closed.
He quickly left the gun with the bag of his things, grabbing the suit he
was wearing and going back to the staircase. Closing the door, he quickly
changed back into the suit, fumbling with his tie. He heard footsteps
coming up the stairs and pulled out his phone, putting on a fake scared
expression. When a single security guard came up, Chris began to shake and
hold back fake tears.
“He threw his things at me and ran that way,” he gestured to the bag next
to him and to the door, “I heard gunfire, and had to see what was going
on! I was just about to call the police!”
“Did you see what he looked like?” the security guard puffed his chest,
having a sense of authority.
“No, but please protect us, kind officer,” Chris begged, flattering the
security guard.
The guard started towards the door, but stopped in his tracks. He turned
to look at Chris suspiciously, eyeing him up and down.
“Sir, what were you doing up here?”
“I was investigating the noise and calling the police.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that cell phone is turned off. And why is
your coat on the ground?” the guard’s face lit up with realization, “It’s
you!”
Chris smirked, holding out his wrists, “Take me to town, officer. You’re
the only one who knows.”
The guard swung his fist clumsily, and Chris swiftly stepped out of the way
and gave a terrible blow to the man’s jaw. The security guard fell back,
pleading. Chris knelt down next to him, holding his wrists down as he
looked for a certain point on his neck. He pressed down on the point,
hushing the man as he slowly fell unconscious.
Letting the man lie on the floor, Chris finished dressing and hurried back
down the stairs, succeeding in getting out of the building without
attracting any attention. A long stretch limousine was waiting outside for
him, and he slipped inside. His father was sitting inside, along with
Marissa. The limo drove off, and the three of them sat in silence until
Jim Huntington spoke up.
“You’ve done well,” he nodded, “But I do wish you hadn’t pulled out the
earpiece.”
“I wouldn’t have done as well with you yapping away in my ear,” Chris
slumped back against the seat, loosening his tie. He turned on the phone,
widening his eyes when he saw how many texts he had from the same number.
Hey Chris, it’s Rae. Just making sure this is the right number!
-Rae
Helloooooooooo?
-Rae
What are you doing?
-Rae
Are you feeling better?
-Rae
I was looking at dresses. Should I get long or short?
-Rae
What color should I get?
-Rae
Will there be food?
-Rae
Chris, answer please.
-Rae
Alex is trying to rape me, please help.
-Rae
He’s like a dog in heat.
-Rae
What do you think of a long blue dress with sequins?
-Rae
It’s really pretty, but kind of expensive.
-Rae
I guess it should look expensive for a night like this.
-Rae
How high should my heels be?
-Rae
A smile crept onto Chris’s lips as he continued reading the texts. Marissa
noticed him, kicking his leg lightly. He looked up, putting the phone
away. Marissa raised an eyebrow at him.
“Who was she?” she asked.
“How do you know if it was a she?” he shrugged.
“Because I told you to bring a date, so you probably asked someone and now
she’s pestering you about what to wear,” Marissa grinned, “I know the
female species.”
“A date?” Jim furrowed his brow, looking at Chris, “What date?”
Marissa bit her lip, crossing her legs and looking away.
“Marissa said that you told me to bring someone, because you don’t want me
leaving in the middle of the party like last time,” Chris said slowly.
“I never said such a thing,” Jim looked to his blushing daughter,
“Marissa?”
“It was embarrassing, okay?” she flipped her hair over her shoulder, “No
one wants to be associated with him when he does that.”
“It was your idea?” Chris glared at her, “Meaning I didn’t have to
ask freaking Rachel Warrick to go with me?”
“Rachel what?” Marissa wrinkled her nose, “Who the hell is that?”
“This girl I work with. The only girl I work with,” Chris groaned,
putting his head in his hands, “I can’t ‘cancel’ the party either. Her
friend is a freak, he’ll look into it.”
“It’s simple. You bring the girl,” Jim interrupted, bowing his head
to think, “Many of our guests think it is simply a graduation party, but do
not know what for. However, all of those people are indebted to our family
in some way and would keep quiet if they accidentally found out. You know
how it is. This girl, however, must not find out.”
“I know,” Chris rolled his eyes.
“You invited a peasant?” Marissa frowned, “Way to go, Chris.”
“She’s much more worried about whether or not to buy some ‘sequined blue
evening dress’ to find out, anyway,” Chris shrugged, “I’ll make sure
nothing goes wrong.”
“Did you say a blue evening gown?” Marissa shot up from her seat.
“Yeah, that’s what she said,” Chris mumbled.
“Tell her to buy it in a different color,” Marissa snapped.
“Okay, sure,” Chris tilted his head slightly, pulling out his phone.
Sorry for the late reply. I was busy. Buy the blue dress.
-Chris
the door right before it closed and cramming himself inside. The office
employees glanced up from their smartphones for a moment to look at him in
confusion, wondering why a young man they had never seen before would be
there. He calmly smoothed out the freshly pressed grey suit he was wearing
and the others looked back down at their phones, continuing the constant
work they did in their boring black and white lives.
He checked his watch, wondering what they were still doing in the office at
10 pm. He tried his best to hold in a scowl, remembering how his father
was just like them, constantly working and coming home late at night.
Chris thought about the bar he should’ve been at by that time, wondering
how much Alex was trying to rub himself on Rae since he was out “sick”. He
felt bad for the kid sometimes. Alex never actually got the girl.
Chris squeezed his way out of the elevator on the eighth floor, just like
he had been instructed. He made his way around cubicles and offices
without attracting much attention, even though he was far younger than most
employees in the building. He could’ve passed for someone’s son, or
perhaps a young intern. He made his way to the stairs, climbing up onto
the roof of the building.
“In the corner, on the left,” a faint voice buzzed in his earpiece, and he
looked to the corner where he found a large bag of everything he needed.
He pulled a pair of black gloves out of his pocket to prevent leaving
fingerprints, and zipped open the bag to reveal the black clothing and long
sniper gun. He quickly pulled on the clothes, balancing the gun on the
ledge as he lied down on his stomach.
“Target is coming,” the voice in the earpiece buzzed in, “He’ll be in the
glass building across from the one you’re on. Second floor from the top,
in the center.”
Chris aimed the gun at the glass building, waiting for the right moment.
The middle-aged old man came into, followed by a young woman in a business
suit.
“Fuck,” Chris cussed under his breath, “Who’s that? He was supposed to be
alone.”
“We don’t know, either,” the voice in his ear sounded confused, “Can’t be
his wife, and he only has sons. Hold back.”
Chris watched as the man sat down, eyeing the young woman. She suddenly
unbuttoned her top and pulled down her skirt, revealing scandalous lingerie
underneath. Chris cringed as the woman sat in the man’s lap, tracing her
finger down his chest.
“That son of a bitch,” Chris muttered, “It’s a hooker.”
“Do not kill the female,” the voice ordered.
“She’s giving him the full on reverse cowgirl,” Chris complained, “I don’t
have a clear shot.”
“Take the shot.”
“There is no shot.”
“Take the shot, Mr. Huntington.”
Chris pursed his lips, yanking the earpiece out and shoving it into his
pocket. He closed one eye and aimed for the man’s forehead, struggling to
lock on to him as he threw his head back and laughed. Frustrated, he
decided that he had nothing to lose. Chris closed both of his eyes and
took the shot. The sound of shattering glass came from the distance,
followed by a woman’s shriek. He opened his eyes to find the hooker
backing away while pulling her clothes back on, staring with terrified eyes
at the old man she was servicing. He was slumped forward, a bullet hole
clear through his forehead. His white shirt was stained with blood and
looked terrifyingly gruesome, but Chris couldn’t help but smile at what a
good shot it was. No one had to know that his eyes were closed.
He quickly left the gun with the bag of his things, grabbing the suit he
was wearing and going back to the staircase. Closing the door, he quickly
changed back into the suit, fumbling with his tie. He heard footsteps
coming up the stairs and pulled out his phone, putting on a fake scared
expression. When a single security guard came up, Chris began to shake and
hold back fake tears.
“He threw his things at me and ran that way,” he gestured to the bag next
to him and to the door, “I heard gunfire, and had to see what was going
on! I was just about to call the police!”
“Did you see what he looked like?” the security guard puffed his chest,
having a sense of authority.
“No, but please protect us, kind officer,” Chris begged, flattering the
security guard.
The guard started towards the door, but stopped in his tracks. He turned
to look at Chris suspiciously, eyeing him up and down.
“Sir, what were you doing up here?”
“I was investigating the noise and calling the police.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that cell phone is turned off. And why is
your coat on the ground?” the guard’s face lit up with realization, “It’s
you!”
Chris smirked, holding out his wrists, “Take me to town, officer. You’re
the only one who knows.”
The guard swung his fist clumsily, and Chris swiftly stepped out of the way
and gave a terrible blow to the man’s jaw. The security guard fell back,
pleading. Chris knelt down next to him, holding his wrists down as he
looked for a certain point on his neck. He pressed down on the point,
hushing the man as he slowly fell unconscious.
Letting the man lie on the floor, Chris finished dressing and hurried back
down the stairs, succeeding in getting out of the building without
attracting any attention. A long stretch limousine was waiting outside for
him, and he slipped inside. His father was sitting inside, along with
Marissa. The limo drove off, and the three of them sat in silence until
Jim Huntington spoke up.
“You’ve done well,” he nodded, “But I do wish you hadn’t pulled out the
earpiece.”
“I wouldn’t have done as well with you yapping away in my ear,” Chris
slumped back against the seat, loosening his tie. He turned on the phone,
widening his eyes when he saw how many texts he had from the same number.
Hey Chris, it’s Rae. Just making sure this is the right number!
-Rae
Helloooooooooo?
-Rae
What are you doing?
-Rae
Are you feeling better?
-Rae
I was looking at dresses. Should I get long or short?
-Rae
What color should I get?
-Rae
Will there be food?
-Rae
Chris, answer please.
-Rae
Alex is trying to rape me, please help.
-Rae
He’s like a dog in heat.
-Rae
What do you think of a long blue dress with sequins?
-Rae
It’s really pretty, but kind of expensive.
-Rae
I guess it should look expensive for a night like this.
-Rae
How high should my heels be?
-Rae
A smile crept onto Chris’s lips as he continued reading the texts. Marissa
noticed him, kicking his leg lightly. He looked up, putting the phone
away. Marissa raised an eyebrow at him.
“Who was she?” she asked.
“How do you know if it was a she?” he shrugged.
“Because I told you to bring a date, so you probably asked someone and now
she’s pestering you about what to wear,” Marissa grinned, “I know the
female species.”
“A date?” Jim furrowed his brow, looking at Chris, “What date?”
Marissa bit her lip, crossing her legs and looking away.
“Marissa said that you told me to bring someone, because you don’t want me
leaving in the middle of the party like last time,” Chris said slowly.
“I never said such a thing,” Jim looked to his blushing daughter,
“Marissa?”
“It was embarrassing, okay?” she flipped her hair over her shoulder, “No
one wants to be associated with him when he does that.”
“It was your idea?” Chris glared at her, “Meaning I didn’t have to
ask freaking Rachel Warrick to go with me?”
“Rachel what?” Marissa wrinkled her nose, “Who the hell is that?”
“This girl I work with. The only girl I work with,” Chris groaned,
putting his head in his hands, “I can’t ‘cancel’ the party either. Her
friend is a freak, he’ll look into it.”
“It’s simple. You bring the girl,” Jim interrupted, bowing his head
to think, “Many of our guests think it is simply a graduation party, but do
not know what for. However, all of those people are indebted to our family
in some way and would keep quiet if they accidentally found out. You know
how it is. This girl, however, must not find out.”
“I know,” Chris rolled his eyes.
“You invited a peasant?” Marissa frowned, “Way to go, Chris.”
“She’s much more worried about whether or not to buy some ‘sequined blue
evening dress’ to find out, anyway,” Chris shrugged, “I’ll make sure
nothing goes wrong.”
“Did you say a blue evening gown?” Marissa shot up from her seat.
“Yeah, that’s what she said,” Chris mumbled.
“Tell her to buy it in a different color,” Marissa snapped.
“Okay, sure,” Chris tilted his head slightly, pulling out his phone.
Sorry for the late reply. I was busy. Buy the blue dress.
-Chris