7PM - Brittany (A 5PM Short Story) by Chris Heinicke

Author:Chris Heinicke [Heinicke, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01BA4TO06
Publisher: Chris Heinicke
Published: 2016-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

IN THE THREE years that had passed since I first became an official Praying Mantassassin, I had killed forty-four people, ranging from politicians, cheating husbands, lawyers, key witnesses before they could give testimony, and even a couple of women. Each mission had been a success and Ed kept track of every investigation just to ensure the police weren’t on my trail.

I was good.

I spent a lot of time at the compound helping to train and to observe. Quite often, new recruits were older than I was, but usually, they were more than happy to learn from someone as proficient with knives as me. Whenever I saw a new group of three or four hopefuls, I was reminded of the time Oliver, Faith and I were totally unaware of the process deciding who became an official Praying Mantassassin. There are occasions when even the lone graduate doesn’t make it past the first few missions without getting themselves killed or captured. Nevertheless, the captured ones soon meet their demise before they can offer any information about our operation.

For the first time in nearly four years, I found myself back in my hometown, ready to be picked up from my roach infested motel for a date with the one boy I realised I truly loved. It had been a long time, and I never had the chance to say goodbye, leaving me often wondering if he knew what had become of me.

I checked myself one last time in the grubby mirror, my makeup only lightly applied to enhance my delicate facial features. The sleeveless and low back white summer dress hung on me as if it had been tailor-made while my push-up bra exaggerated my naturally small bust. I breathed in and out a few times, with each one longer than the previous. I filled a cup of water.

“You’ll be okay,” I said aloud as I stared back at the woman who was just a girl when she left this town. My hand trembled as I raised the cup to my mouth, and I spilled a little down my chin as I took harsh gulps.

I decided to dispense with high heels, feeling more natural walking out of the motel room in my near flat Gucci loafers. The money’s good when you do what I do, and a girl has to treat herself with brand name clothing and shoes at the very least.

Without sounding boastful, the looks I attracted didn’t surprise me. My hair hung straight, and the blonde streaks made me think about the possibility of going completely blonde one day. At least unlike the days when I was a young girl living in this town, I can stand here and not feel like bait for dirty old fuckers like Russell. If I needed to, I could take anyone down.

A few nervous minutes later, I saw an old red station wagon stop at the kerb in front of me. I could make out a male face on the driver’s side of the

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