The blade sliced through the air- from her thigh to his voicebox, in a maneuver that took less than a second. There was no way to eliminate both simultaneously with one holding Cynthia hostage. She knew she had to even the playing field.
So she did.
Raising her hands, she turned around in submission and immediately recognized him. The Chief Interrogator had been the one who had interviewed her for Admission. No doubt, he had placed her under surveillance from the start, and had been the one responsible for Susan's death.
Without blinking, the two opponents evaluated one another.
Of the four people present,
one was dying,
one was crying,
and two were unaffected.
Kella noted the air of indifference of her adversary. Unlike his pack of goons, he would present more of a challenge. Only another hardened killer could remain calm while the sounds of death gurgled and echoed in the empty warehouse.
And then, there were three.
"My, my, my, Kella. You have made quite the mess in our sleepy little town, haven't you?" the Chief Interrogator sneered.
He began the typical "monologue of the nemesis" and she ignored every word.
Kella knew he would continue to antagonize her, hoping to distract her from her mission. Failing to gain a foothold there, he would bargain with her- offering money and power to allow him to keep his command. His final attempt would be to threaten to harm Cynthia.
Only faintly aware of the pitch and cadence of his rhetoric, the majority of his Speech failed to take shape as words in her brain. The town was built on the value of Silence. Obviously, it was a tenet he chose to demand from others, but abstain from himself. Typical.
Every scenario to rescue Cynthia played through Kella's mind, all of which ended with more risk than she was comfortable.
But she had no choice.
"Not going to accept then?" He interrupted her thoughts. "What if sweet little Cynthia asks, how about then?"
The assassin unsheathed her second knife and transferred it to her dominant hand.
Shrieks of pain and terror came from Cynthia as she screamed in fear against his twisting grip. "I'm scared, Kella!"
"Yes, she's scared, Kella," he mocked in a sing-song whine.
Kella took a long, full breath, slowing her heart rate. "Close your eyes, Cynthia."
The little girl obeyed immediately, scrunching up every muscle in her face.
In the most calming voice she could muster, Kella spoke softly, "You'll never have to be scared again."
The flick of her wrist happened without another warning.
The blade hit its target with dead-on accuracy.
The sound of metal squishing into soft tissue made its familiar, muffled sound.
Kella sighed deeply, knowing that it would be the last time she would hear it ever again.
The End.
If you followed along from the beginning, you should have a pretty keen sense of who Kella is. So? What did she do?
I loved writing this story. But as always, I most enjoy wondering what the reader will speculate as it continues. It was originally meant to be a stand-alone piece, but I decided to write more, spin it, flip it, and gently shove the reader down the rabbit hole. Hope you enjoyed the fall. 😏
Missed previous chapters?
Ch 1  | Ch 2  | Ch 3  |
|---|---|---|
Ch 4  | Ch 5  | Ch 6  |
Ch 7  | Ch 8  | Ch 9  |
Ch 10  |
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