Hi! First chapter of my first fanfiction! Read & Enjoy :)
Daniel Graham slammed down his fists on the keyboard, giving his desk neighbor a fright. His computer had frozen, again. It was the second time today and his patience started to wear thin. Damn his cheapskate of a boss for not upholding his promise to buy some functional technology. How did he even put up with the man's bollocks?
With a sour expression on his face, Daniel made his way to the staff coffee-room in search for a delicious cup of tea. Maybe that would ease his temper. Daniel poured himself a cup of earl grey, before sitting down at the small couch and asking himself why he was still working here. After one and a half months, Daniel was already fed up with it, but he didn't have much choice—he needed the money in order to pay his motel room. He still hadn't been able to find a flat yet.
Living overseas for five years had been tough, especially since he loved everything about London. It was his home after all. He was finally back, but things had changed. People had moved on and he didn't feel he had a right to impose on their life anymore. They were better off without him.
"Dreadful isn't it?" said a voice on his left.
Daniel flinched in surprise; he hadn't even noticed somebody else was in the room much less that somebody was sitting next to him. Perhaps he was losing his touch. He cleared his head of all the thoughts and focused his gaze on his colleague Matthew who leaned forward and picked up his coffee cup from the table.
"What is?" Daniel asked, trying to look interested while running his fingers through his light brown hair. Matthew nodded towards the open door and Daniel assumed he meant the two people standing at the end of the hall. It was Mr. Hamilton, his cranky old cheapskate of a boss, and one of the newly hired assistants, a young woman with curly blonde hair. She seemed to be somewhere in her twenties and she was very pretty. Mr. Hamilton leaned in close and she giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at him in return. Obviously, they were flirting.
"Can you believe it? An old man scores more than us combined. It's ridiculous," Matthew said with a look of disbelief on his face.
Daniel nodded in agreement, but actually, he didn't find it very ridiculous. The man had money—lots of it, a big ass company and power. He could offer stability, comfort and could give his women whatever they desired. It wasn't ridiculous, but it sure was unfair. Mostly he found it sad these women would rather be with some rich douchebag than with someone who cared for more than their appearance.
"God, why is life so unfair?" Matthew complained and took a sip of coffee. "So, how's it going with you my friend? Any love interests?"
Daniel had to bite back a laugh. Love interests? Him? There was no way. He had trust issues, he was paranoid and everyone he loved ended up leaving him or worse. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out a response that didn't involve laughing into his face, and possibly offend him.
"Um, no. I have other things on my mind. Don't really have time for women. You?" ended up being his response and Matthew nodded with understanding before he began to tell about his adventures from last night and some woman he'd met in a bar. Daniel tried hard to remain interested during the conversation but his mind was elsewhere. Ever since he had gotten back to London, his past had haunted him. Being a journalist wasn't his life call. Far from it. He wasn't meant to sit in front of a desk writing articles.
Daniel let out a sigh. He was itching to go back to the old days. The danger, the rush, adrenaline constantly pumping through his veins. The thrill of the hunt and the joy of finally catching his prey. Being on top of the food-chain with unlimited knowledge in his hands. He forced himself to remember the reason he quit. People had gotten hurt because of him, people he cared about. He couldn't let that happen again.
"…anyway this girl, she just took off without an explanation. I'm not sure what happened." Matthew finished his story and looked at Daniel for an opinion.
"You got screwed over… Did you check your wallet?" Daniel replied. He didn't want to hurt his friend but even after listening with only one ear, this one was obvious.
"Wallet? But why… What do you mean screwed over?" Matthew's face was tense, he started to get irritated at Daniel's assumptions. Daniel tilted his head and looked at Matthew with impatience. Matthew let out a noisy breath before doing as Daniel suggested. He opened his wallet and looked through it, his face changing from pale white to a deep red, before exclaiming: "Son of a bitch! The little minx stole my 20 pounds… I have to call the police!"
"I don't think they can help you, they have other priorities. But you learned something no doubt," Daniel said and put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew sank down in the couch, his face red with embarrassment. Daniel felt a bit bad for him. However, Matthew wasn't the kind of person to dwell on bad things for long.
An hour later, he was already over it.
The remainder of the day passed without any further computer issues and Matthew was coping with what had happened. When he told the rest of the staff of last night's events, he got many offers from female colleagues, mostly out of pity. Matthew could get a date even without their pity; he was a decent, good-looking guy but he welcomed the offers anyway. Daniel carried on with writing his article on a recent murder case, staying as far away from his co-workers as possible.
Right now, he wasn't in need of human communion. What he needed was to finish his work and occupy his mind with something else—anything. So, hours passed until the hour was late and he realized he was alone.
The others had gone home. Daniel glanced at the clock with a sigh. Eight. He was supposed to have left an hour ago. He heard the sound of someone out in the corridor, probably the janitor Phillips. This was the first time Daniel had stayed behind until everyone else had left.
Daniel rather enjoyed the silence and decided to take the opportunity to relax. He went over to the large windows, taking in the view. The buildings outside, a mix of old and new, made him feel nostalgic. The nostalgia grew in his chest, reminding him off the old days again, and he resisted the sudden urge to crush the window and jump. He longed to feel content with his life, to wake up and not feel the need of anything. For once Daniel wanted to wake up and not feel empty.
Daniel went back to pick up his things so he could head home to the seedy motel. He wasn't overly excited. Frankly, it had gotten to the point where he would consider moving in with someone just to sleep in a bed that hadn't been defiled by years of inhabitants.
Daniel grabbed his jacket and heaved the bag over his shoulder when the screen on his computer lit up. Daniel stopped and watched with confusion as his screen filled up with pictures. Dozens of them.
"What the hell?" He whispered while he leaned closer, his mouth hanging wide open in shock.
They were crime scene photographs, the victims completely brutalized. A man and a woman, middle-aged, possibly married. The woman was lying on the floor, her arm pointing towards what seemed to be the door. Her head was smashed in and her body covered in slashes and bruises. The man lied on the bed, a gun in his right hand, a hole through his head and the same weird bruises on his body. Blood spattered over the walls in an almost theatrical way. Daniel couldn't believe his eyes. This was his murder.
Five years ago, he'd been a provider of information and evidence. With a camera in one hand and a gun in the other, he'd been invincible; at least that's what he had thought. The knowledge in his head had been enough to piss off more than half of the underworlds greatest criminals. He was either their key to release or their one-way ticket to life in prison. A risk many didn't wish to take. With the information, and compromising photographs, that he had he could've blackmailed the queen herself.
Daniel didn't consider himself on the side of criminals, even if he had helped some. Authorities, such as the government, even hired him once in a while.
Information, hunting people down and catching them, that was his life. Or it used to be. His life had been thrilling, exciting. It was his way of surviving and sustaining his need for adventure and danger. He was an adrenaline junkie after all. Without a daily dose, he would have trouble sleeping. He would never feel content.
Many had tried to persuade Daniel into partnership, his skills proved to be a useful asset in the world of crime. Daniel wasn't interested in that. He remembered declining an offer from the very core of criminal organization, a decision whoever pulled the strings didn't take well. He never caught the guy's name. Apparently, everyone was too afraid to speak it. After all this time he'd only been able to learn that this person was sometimes referred to as M.
This man was dangerous enough to scare the biggest fish Daniel had caught. That was one of the reasons he had fled the country for five years.
Daniel looked at the pictures, a mix of guilt and shame on his face. If it weren't for him, those people wouldn't have been brutally tortured and murdered. His adoptive parents would still be alive. If he hadn't been such a dumbass they would be alive and well. He did this to them.
This whole situation in front of him raised an interesting question though: who sent these pictures and why? Who was M?
There were few people aware of Daniel's work, having worked like a shadow. Few had seen him personally and nobody knew his real name. He had been known only as Winston, a name with no connections to himself or his adoptive parents.
He guessed the King of crime had his own set of sources at his disposal. A snitch. Daniel couldn't help wonder why now. After five years, why did they send these pictures now? It was a message to him personally, but if they already knew where he was and who he was, why hadn't they killed him already?
Unless there was something else... something worse in store for him.