AN: Okay so this took longer for me to get up then I thought it would, sorry about that! Life gets so busy all of the time, you know? Anyways, this is chapter one of my new fic and I hope that you love it as much as I do! Enjoy!
The walls of the silent home were bathed in red where he had killed his victims. He could see bloody handprints glistening in the dimly hit home, the drips of blood still running down the panels of the walls. Absentmindedly, he touched the vibrant colour, rubbing it between his fingers as he listened to the utter silence of the house.
Closing his eyes, Troy relived the last moments of his victim's life, relishing the fear that had lingered in the young lady's eyes. She had held out a hand to him, warning him away as she lay bleeding heavily. Troy had granted her no mercy and had finished the job easily, leaving her slumped against the bloodstained wall with her eyes still wide open in horror.
The sight didn't scare him or disturb him at all; such sights were Troy's lifestyle. A sight that he wasn't used to seeing, though, was that the victim that he had just killed, the young woman who had begged him to spare her, was younger than he was. Throughout Troy's 'career' he had never taken the life of anyone that was younger than forty, he had never needed to. Everyone knew that the old people always had the most money and the nicest things that he could take and sell, but this case had been an exception.
Earlier on that day, Troy had done a quick bit of research on the girl, seeing that she was the daughter of a wealthy statesman (a man that he and his partner had killed a few months back) and lived alone in a desolate, isolated place far from a city. Right away, Troy knew that he wanted to break in. H knew that it would be the ideal break in and would result in major money.
His partner had refused to do it, saying that killing anyone that wasn't old was wrong. He also refused to kill a single woman. But Troy didn't hold any beliefs of that sort. Troy knew that in able to make a name for yourself in this sort of career, you had to be heartless, brutal and hold no mercy, no matter what you found when you got to a murder site.
Troy had started out as just a harmless burglar, hitting rich people's houses and Taking only enough to give himself a generous outcome. He had always struck when the habitants had left for a vacation or an evening out, always making sure that he was gone long before they returned. That was back when he still had a soul. That had been a while ago, though, and now Troy was a hardened criminal, wanted all over the country for the people that he had killed and deeds that he had done.
Troy walked around the silent mansion, grabbing valuables and stuffing them in a sack, remembering to keep an eye on approaching vehicles thought he doubted that anyone would be coming to visit at this time of night. As he looted the place, Troy allowed himself to remember the first victim that he had killed, smirking a bit as he realized what a wimp that he had been, scared of hurting them, scared of them realizing that he wasn't their friend.
It had been a few months after he started robbing houses, and Troy was beginning to get more confident in his abilities. So confident, in fact, that he began to stay longer, leaving the looted houses mere minutes before the owners returned to their broken-in homes. This particular night, Troy had stayed too long, getting distracted by the portraits hung on the wall, the lavish furniture, the breathtaking beauty of the sleek furniture. He had lost his focus and found himself still in the kitchen when the owner had returned home and caught him huddling behind the fridge.
Troy had panicked, hopping onto the older man and yelling at him to remain silent even though the older man hadn't uttered a peep. The man had collapsed onto the floor due to Troy's weight and cracked his head on the kitchen tile.
Hard.
Blood had pooled everywhere and Troy stared in terror at the scene before him, uttering a few tearful apologies before snatching the toaster and running like hell as he realized that he had just graduated from a burglar to a murderer. The first time was the hardest, though. Soon Troy felt himself beginning to desensitize and at first he became alarmed. But then realized what a good thing that would be for his career. And so he had continued.
Pulled back to the present by the creak of a floorboard, Troy immediately crouched behind an overstuffed armchair, his mind racing through all of the possibilities of who it could be. Throughout all of the research that he had done, there had never been any mention of family reunions or even any pictures with friends.
A boyfriend, perhaps? His mind asked, prompting Troy to raise to his full height again as the sounds moved closer to him. Troy dropped his bag silently to the ground behind him and readied his weapon which he had retrieved from the chest of the home owner before venturing around.
Another floorboard squeaked closer to him, but there was no other sound to be heard and Troy had to strain to figure out which way the intruder was heading. Squinting, Troy tried to see the silhouette of his enemy, but nothing registered in his eyes and Troy had to take a deep breath to keep himself from getting dizzy from the concentration.
There was a rustle behind him but before Troy could turn around, someone jumped on his back with such precision that Troy knew immediately that he was training with someone who obviously knew how to take someone else down. Troy hissed as he hit the ground and immediately began to kick and flail at the person that was squishing him into the floorboards, but the grip on his shoulders was so great that all he was doing was wasting his energy; there was no way that he was getting away from his attacker anytime soon.
The knife was stuck between Troy's chest and the floor and Troy went limp for a moment, hoping that the other person would think he had surrendered. The grip on his shoulders loosened a bit but was still too firm for Troy to manoeuvre his arms. He cursed loudly and thought that he heard his still invisible attacker laugh, which only infuriated him more.
There was a crackle of a radio and when he heard the voice of the person holding him down, Troy knew that it was all over.
"Got him boys. Send a car over and we'll take him down to the station. Looks like we got him just in time, he already killed the girl and he was in the process of nabbing all of her stuff."
The police officer hauled Troy up off the ground and cuffed him, reading him his rights in a quiet, smug undertone that made Troy's blood boil. However, there was nothing that he could do and instead he admitted defeat and let the police officer lead him out to the driveway where Troy could hear the wails of sirens getting closer and closer.
The day was overcast and drizzly, but Gabriella dressed in bright colours anyway. The rain had never bothered her before and she wasn't about to let it start now. Twirling her hair into a tight bun, Gabriella hummed to herself as she got ready for work, slipping her shoes on and grabbing her briefcase from where it stood in the front hall.
Small pinpricks of rain hit her cheeks as she trotted out to her car but Gabriella didn't rush like everyone else was, she took her time, admiring her flowerbeds and taking time to pat the neighbourhood cat that was wandering through her front yard.
The drive to her workplace was busy and Gabriella concentrated on the road, trying her best to avoid traffic jams and skipping her usual coffee stop when she realized that she was going to be late for work. With a quick glance at her watch, Gabriella pulled through the gates of the prison with six minutes to spare, just enough time for her to park her car, get through security, and clock in. Gabriella smiled to herself as she entered the dismal halls of the top security prison, ignoring all of the buzzers, the dull lights, and the acidic stench of the place. To her, this place was home. It was a place where she got to help others turn their lives around, to give them someone to talk to about how they all thought that what they were doing was right. It gave her the chance to help someone make a life for themselves, to allow them to start fresh.
Gabriella loved her job as a prison guidance counsellor, and she wouldn't have her life any other way.
AN: Okay so how was that? I hope it got your interest sparked! Please let me know what you thought that I'll be back with more soon, I promise! Thanks for reading!