Voodoo Assassin by Mark Steen

Author:Mark Steen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: blood, horror, murder, occcult

Chapter 6

Abby just sat there on the stool motionless. She tried to think of the customer’s name, the one that bought the doll two days ago. Most of the times he'd been in he'd paid cash. She opened the laptop to her left and pressed the power button. She left it booting up, grabbed the card and walked into the small kitchen behind her. She put the Sergeant’s card in her coat pocket. She flicked the on switch and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. She made herself a strong black coffee, no sugar, and took it back to her seat. She placed the mug on the coaster, logged into the laptop. Navigating her way to her work files and went into the online orders folder and found the document. She opened up the spreadsheet and started looking down the list. None of the names rang a bell, but there was one address that was local. Thomas Day. She reached for the post-it notes, she caught the handle of the mug with her little finger, hot coffee splashed all over the counter and her arm. She flinched and pulled her arm back to wipe the scalding liquid off it.

She reached for the sticky notes again, ignoring the stinging arm, choosing not to run it under cold water. She looked around for a pen. There was one sat on the shelf under the counter, a black biro. She sat back up and started to copy the address. Tearing off the top note, she grabbed her jacket from the hook just inside the kitchen and locked the shop up. She unlocked the shop again, reached in to slide the closed sign across then locked the door again. She didn't close the shutters as she'd be back in a couple of hours.

Twenty minutes later, she was looking at the address Thomas Day had put as his deliver address. The ground level was occupied with several shops. She wanted 227b. It must be one of the flats above the shops. She doubled back on herself to the last side road and turned. She stopped at the back alley and started walking down it. Several of the gates had large painted numbers on them. Most had seen better days with bit chips of paint missing and half of the planks of wood were rotting. Years of weather taking their toll on the soft wood. 221b, 223b, 225b, 229b. She stopped and took a step backwards. The gate didn't have any number on it and was in a better state of repair that the surrounding gates. She grabbed the handle, pressed the metal lever with her thumb, and pushed. The gate didn't move. She grabbed the top of the gate with both hands and raised herself up on her tiptoes to try to peek over the top. She still wasn't tall enough so she jumped up, using her grip on the gate to assist her with every bounce.

She managed to see a steel staircase leading up to a UPVC door at the top.

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