“Your wife killed him,” she reveals. Shock and pride bloom in my chest, and all I can imagine is Ashia’s first kill. She was glorious that day. I can only imagine how divine she looked killing that bald mother fucker. A grin forces its way onto my lips, and a warmth tries to ignite in my chest for the first time in days. “Now, they’re all on edge. They haven’t shown you footage of her since they shot your father because your men have been keeping her pretty secluded.”
“You’ve seen her?” I ask quietly, and she nods again.
“Briefly.”
“How is she?” I don’t care how desperate I sound—I need to know. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and my breathing becomes shallow again, like my body needs the confirmation of her health to operate. Victoria looks up at me, like she’s not sure what to say, but her face softens after a moment.
“She seems alright. Granted, I don’t know her, and apart from being pregnant and tired, I’m not sure what else to look at.”
I nod, taking anything that I can get right now. She’s alive. Our baby is okay. That’s all I fucking care about. I can’t stop thinking about her, and how much I’m missing out on. Old images keep replaying in my head, and I’m holding onto them for dear life. One of my favorites is when I watched her dance in Serena’s apartment—before I introduced myself. She was so carefree for those few moments. Her smile reached her ears, and her face was lit up with so much light that it shouldn’t have been real. The way she flung her head back to laugh was a moment of pure joy, and now I’d give anything to watch that from afar again.
Before the image is completely gone, the restraints release my wrists, and I collapse. My knees are the first to hit the stones, and the rest of me seems to crash and split as I smack the ground. Pain radiates through my limbs, and my entire bodyshakes as I push myself up with my hands. Nausea rolls up and down in waves, but I fight through it and grab the Nylon top to slip it on.
After I finish dressing and shakily stand, Saconne storms back in. It takes me by surprise, and I don’t really have time to react before he jabs my neck with another needle. It instantly burns, the fire trailing through every vein, and I can feel it the moment my heart starts to race again. Victoria snaps in his direction.
“What is wrong with you?! He’ll crash-out before he even gets to the assignment!”
“Then that will just be one more reason to kill him!” Saconne then forcefully turns and starts to walk out, but not without calling over his shoulder, “Happy hunting, Hartley!”
Chapter 37
Damien
‘The Apparition’ – Sleep Token
The van is too small. Now that I think about it, the walls could even be flimsy. Perhaps if I kicked it in enough, it would give way, and I could just jump out. My heart is pounding so harshly that I might get sick. Every limb is pulsing with an energy that I only feel when they dose me, and I wish I was back in the dungeon so I could kill them. I’m revved up. In this moment, I could take them all on without a moment’s hesitation. I want to go home. Ineedto go home. No matter what it takes. There’s no way I can stand by and be their torture toy any longer. Even if they end up killing me for trying to escape, at least I would’ve died trying.
No. It’s not me they would kill.Think of Ashia, you stupid mother fucker.If they hurt her, my life would truly be over. They’re trying to break me at every angle, and they’ve almost succeeded. Killing my dad was about as close to ending mypathetic life as they could get without using Ashia against me. My chest starts to hurt just at the thought, and I can’t tell if the adrenaline is already starting to wear off, or if my heart is breaking a little more.
Cinque pulls out four cards, but he keeps them from my view. This assignment already feels different than the last. It’s heavier, like somehow this go around will be even worse. He hasn’t tried to communicate with me. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but I don’t really have a choice regardless. I can’t tell whether it’s my jittery body or my nerves, but something is off. His silence and dissociated gaze is messing with my head, and I’m starting to think it’s intentional. After what only seems like a few minutes, he splits the cards up and hands me two before quickly pocketing the others.
I quickly look them over, and it seems to be similar to the last task. One man and one woman. My heart sinks the moment I realize that I’ll have to end the woman’s life this time, but it seems I don’t have to cut anything off this time. The instructions are once again in Italian, and I don’t recognize any of the words. A part of me is glad they haven’t tried to teach me Italian yet. That would only solidify my place in this fucked-up group.
A few minutes later, and after some decent bumps along the road, the van comes to halt. Cinque immediately stands up and reaches for the door, not wasting a single moment. The adrenaline must be fucking with my perception of time, and now I can feel that it’s starting to fizzle out. Whatever needs to be done, I have to do it quickly. There’s no room for mistakes, and until I can either guarantee that I can get out by myself, or until Victoria gets her shit together, I have to keep walking the line.
The doors quietly open to unveil a scene much like the first assignment. Trees surround us, but there’s a closer clearing this time. Wherever we are, it must be at a higher altitude, because I can feel the chill and the heaviness in the air. There’s no way I’vebeen with them long enough for the seasons to start changing. Right? It must be the difference in altitude.
The house sitting in the middle of the trees is surprisingly older, and completely unlike the homes from the last two hits. It has the look of an old farmhouse, but it’s clearly been kept up with. There’s a single light on the front porch that is illuminated, but even past its reach, I can see the wrap-around entryway and old shutters. With it being tucked so far into the woods, I’m curious about who these people are, but I know there’s no way I’m going to find out before the job is done.
We quickly make our way over, and I’m shocked when the porch and stairs don’t make a single noise. With a home as old as this, I was expecting a creak or a groan, no matter how restored the structure is, but there isn’t any. Cinque slides a thin metal piece inside the front door, and it opensveryeasily. They must have someone survey the properties before they send us out to complete the tasks, or Cinque is just that good, and that’s almost scary to think about.
As we make our way inside, he stops me and points to a door at the end of the hall, directing me. Instead of arguing like I want to, I nod once and step towards it. Just when I think he’ll follow me, he doesn’t. He wanders off, and I can’t help but watch as he creeps around the corner. Whoever is on his cards must be here as well, and I suppose it is smarter to split up.
The floors inside are also silent and well maintained, and it makes it easier to navigate without notifying the targets. Each step feels a little heavier. I add more weight to each one, and I know my timer just keeps running down. It won’t be much longer before I pass out, and Ihaveto get this done. Something tells me that Cinque won’t cover for me again, and I refuse to put my wife in danger because I’m too weak to finish the assignment.
I open the door quietly and immediately notice the couple asleep in bed. The woman is on the far right, sleeping in a verycomfortable, but contorted position. The man who I’m assuming is her husband is lying a little softer, but obviously in a deep sleep. The room is well done, but modest, and it’s filled with what looks like years of valued items. Not the kind that cost money, but that actuallymeanssomething. There are many pictures, but it’s too dark to make out exactly who’s in them. An antique jewelry box lies on the dresser top, and miniscule things like books, candles, and nick-nacks are spread throughout the area. I may not know these people, but just from the look of the room, I can tell they don’t deserve what’s coming to them. My chest tightens at the realization.
My eyes find the nightstand on the wife’s side of the room, and I see a medication bottle next to another photo and a book. It could be something as simple as a blood pressure medication, but the drool leaving her mouth, and her hair sprawled along the pillow, tells me otherwise. That would explain her heavy sleep. It was going to be easier to take the man out first regardless, but at least this way, she won’t be afraid. She won’t have to feel anything at the end, and I want to make her transition into the afterlife as smooth as possible. Neither of them should have to pay for my misdeeds, but I can make it as peaceful as possible.
Slinking over to the man’s side of the bed, I check the drawer of his nightstand to see what I can use to take him out. His death will be quick as well, but I won’t promise to make it as merciful. I’m most likely on another time limit, and if I have to choose who to spare of the pain, I’ll choose the woman without question. I’ve killed hundreds of men. I just have to look at this one as another number.
But not her.
There’s a small letter opener in the drawer, and while at first I think it won’t be durable enough, once I touch the thicker metal, I change my mind. I just need it to work once—maybe twice. Just enough to at least get his demise rolling so I can move onto the hardest part. I’ll be sure to make the one blow fatal, so that he doesn’t suffer for too long. But it’ll be easier to kill him—emotionally easier, anyway.
I can hate myself for this later. On the off chance that I actually make it out of here alive, I’ll have plenty of time to feel the guilt. Their time limits make sense now. It’s to desensitize us. They know that eventually, we’ll put everything else aside just to ensure the task is completed, and then as time goes on, we’ll force ourselves not to feel at all. This is just another way they break our minds.
Without hesitation, I steady the handle in my hand and raise it up to my shoulder. My hand covers his mouth and nose at the same moment I drive it down, and it pierces him in the neck. It goes in smoothly enough. My fingers pinch his nose closed, and I hate how hard I’m squeezing, but my anger and reluctance are uncontrollable right now. His eyes open so wide that I can see the whites of them, and he starts to gasp and choke beneath my palm. My stomach starts to roll the moment his gaze meets mine. Vomit starts to rise into my throat, but I focus on keeping it down. He thrashes, but barely, because he’s already spewing blood, and thankfully, his wife remains asleep beside him.
