Author's note: I don't own Twilight and blah blah, or the song.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The rain was pouring down on the little cabin. The sun was barely visible to shed light, but I knew I had to keep working in the dark. If I flicked on a light, it could draw attention to the neighbours, and I can't have that. Not when I'm so close.
Growing up I was unprofessionally diagnosed of having prosopagnosia, by my peers. If you could call them that, we were all just a bunch of unfortunate individuals thrust into a world of violence and crime. But we did what we could to survive. And I became the girl who couldn't see faces.
I focused my attention to papers instead. I'd pool ever folders after folders, comb through every detailed description on the targets; height, weight, features, locations they frequently visit, everything. It would become a novel for me to read through and I would oversee writing out their ending, regardless of how awful it might be for the poor soul.
But, focusing on the words helped with not seeing the faces. You can't form deep connections with words that could be used on to describe a multitude of people. But you can catch yourself hesitating when you recognise a face, when you start to notice unique characteristics that make people become individuals. When they become humanized. So that's why I lived with my makeshift prosopagnosia.
Yet here I was doing what I was best at, flipping though files of old police reports and paperwork. I was finally in my element and doing research, but all I could think about was a face. The one face that had been haunting me ever since I left Alaska and travelled south towards the state of Washington. His dimple on the corner of his cheek, as he flashed his bright smile. The way his eyes lit up whenever he spoke, the way his muscles tensed under his uniform shirt with every move.
He was driving me insane, and the calm of the quiet and quaint little cabin didn't do anything to settle my heart. It beat as violently as the rain outside. The clash of the wind screamed through the window, and yet the blood coursing through my veins sounded louder than the raging storm outside.
This was his cabin that he had been staying in before moving to Alaska. The real owners weren't identifiable, but the cabin was easy enough to get access to once I had the right keys. It was homey. I wasn't quite comfortable using the word, but the décor and furnishings all lead towards that definition. A disturbing thought echoed through my mind again. I… I imagined myself settling into the quaint living space, with Seth greeting me as I walked through the door.
But I am a professional. I can't let myself go down that road. I had a plan, and I was going to stick with it. In a couple of days, if I had done everything right, I would be a new person. And Seth would no longer be a haunting memory, in fact, he wouldn't be a memory at all.
With renewed vigour, I focused my eyes back on the papers in front of me. I only had one goal and one goal only, find a person called S and eliminate him.
A sound from outside pulled me from the papers. Glancing over at the windows, I noticed the barely existent sun was long gone and I was sitting in pure darkness now. The storm still hadn't let up, the trees were swinging around more viciously now.
Settling my racing heart, I strained my ears to listen for any more noises from outside. I hadn't heard the hum of an engine yet, nor has a flash of headlights caught my attention. Letting out a breath of relief, I continued to flip through the reports. None of the limited folders gave any insight of ever have detaining S. I didn't know his exact name, but I knew enough to spot him if I found him. He was after all, like me. My sources had been adamant that they'd spotted him around here, before he left. He had strong ties with the chief here, been in and out of the office quite a bit before someone reported the reports had been missing from their data file. The chief had been reluctant to transfer their documentation into computer files, and only put half the cases online.
But a source had been kind enough to tail him to see him pop by this little cabin once, that was all I needed to continue on the search. Unfortunately for my little source, he was a loose end, and was cut from the case. The case that would lead to the freedom of all of us.
A noise sounded from outside again. Except this time, it was coming from just outside the front door. Instantly I was on my feet, my hands pulling out the handy little gun in my case and aiming in steadily at the door. I didn't have time to put the papers back in their rightful place, so who ever was coming in would know there was an intruder. Quietly I positioned myself towards the corner of the living room and kept my poised arms out in front of me, my finger still placed on the trigger. The screaming of the wind would mask the noise from the silencer, which I was thankful for.
The doorknob twitched, and a second late the door opened. The slight moonlight behind the silhouette blocked my ability to see who the intruder was, but their face had turned to face me the second they walked in. How they were able to spot me out in the dark room was the last of my worries, and instead I let my finger squeeze the little switch. The sound was in fact masked by the violent thrashing of the wind.
The bullet hit perfectly in the intruder's arm, slicing into his shoulder, his body swung from the impact backwards as a trail of blood splattered outwards. I knew it was silly to call him the intruder when it was me who had no right to be here, but I couldn't take chances. Before I could squeeze the trigger again to shoot the man down for good a familiar voice called out.
"Wait!"
It couldn't be.
"Wait! Just wait, I just wanna talk!"
It was Seth.
I didn't know how his voice had so much power over my body, but I had seemed to halt all my actions instantaneously. Lowering my gun, I took a step back. I had already surveyed the cabin, there weren't any viable exit routes except for the front door. Which is partly the reason why I had to wait until the chief was gone on vacation and this Seth person had fully transferred over to Alaska before I could even start my mission.
"Ow, listen I just want to talk." Seth's voice was a laced in pain, and the sound only brought…shame on to me.
I knew my eyes were wide with shock. How he had found me so fast I had no idea especially when I had left tracks all over Alaska to throw him off in case he even realized anything was amiss. He stumbled forward a bit, swinging the front door closed behind him. A millisecond later, the lights were flicked on. My eyes only burned for a second as it struggled to be accustomed to the new sensation. After all I had been left to my devices for hours on end in the dark, and now it was like a new day had emerged.
My eyes automatically fell to his shoulder. He wasn't donning a shirt, and the red was oozing out steadily. His face was contorted into a slight grimace, but his eyes were slightly panicked. I felt utterly torn in the second and no amount of training and prior preparation had primed me for a situation like this. What did I do?
I was half tempted to push past him and escape into the howling storm, hoping to vanish into the violence if only that meant I wouldn't have to see the pain in his face from the actions caused by my own fingers. The other half of me wanted to rush over to him and help him, anything to wipe the look off his face.
Ignoring the new knowledge that I had now the ability to recognize, facial expressions. I held my gun tightly in my hand and rolled my shoulders back, taking on a more confident pose. I couldn't no… I wouldn't be the caged animal in this scenario. He had managed to find me, me. This was not a person to take lightly, he was most definitely dangerous.
"What do you want?" My voice was clear, strong, the opposite of the thunder heartbeat inside my ribcage.
"I only want to talk. I want … I want to help you." He hissed slightly pulling up his hand to now hold his injured shoulder. I felt a slight ease knowing he was finally putting pressure on his wound. There was a part of me that didn't want him to die. I didn't want anymore bloodshed, funnily enough.
"You don't know what you're talking about." I replied calmly. I really hoped he didn't. He wasn't supposed to know, he was supposed to be a clueless bystander who lead me to my target, and nothing else. Because if he did know more, then I'd have to shoot him down. No loose ends.
"I can help you…just please...listen to me," Seth echoed. His broad planes of muscled chest was littered in raindrops and blood. It was a beautiful sight to behold, a sick part of me concluded. The sight was akin to a romantic painting, pain and anguish painted boldly on a canvas of perfection.
Cursing myself for ogling at him, I cleared my throat. I didn't know how to proceed, but I needed to know what he knew. This was a new development that wasn't in the papers. This was getting more complicated than I had prepared for. Nodding finally, I switched the security back on the gun and tucked the gun behind my belt, silencer and all. The bulky feeling wasn't the most comfortable, but it did provide a semblance of security as I ventured off to new territory for the first time.
I was seeing faces, sensing emotions, and listening to the victims.
I could just see my mentor rolling in his rotting grave right now. A slight pang of amusement coursed through me at the thought.
"Let's deal with the wound first," I sauntered over to his larger body. "No funny business, or I will have to end you." I added with a smile. He chuckled but the gulp that sounded from him told me that he knew I was dead serious.
"No funny business, scouts honor," Seth offered a weak smile. I could see relief in his eyes, and the earlier light that shone from them back in Alaska was quickly remerging. He was truly a human puppy.
"Sit down, I'll grab the first aid kit." I walked away to the bathroom in the on-suite of the master bedroom.
"How…never-mind." I heard Seth call out before muttering a never-mind.
When I appeared from the hallway with the kit in hand, I saw that he was now in the open kitchen, holding paper towels on to his shoulder. He was only dressed in a wet and slouchy sweat short and nothing else. His feet were wet from the rain outside, but strangely not covered in mud. He didn't have any weapons or seemed to be housing any electronics that could call for back up. His cabin was void of any weapons and not a signal could be accessed from here. What was his game.
"Good you're already in the kitchen. Boil some water, we're going to need to sterilize the instruments and then you have the choice of cauterizing the wound closed or stitches," I tried sounding a mechanical as I could. But the thought of further harming him made me immensely uncomfortable.
"Stitches, definitely stitches." I could see his nose scrunch up from the mention of burning his flesh. I tried to bite down the tiny twitch of the corner of my lip. He was… cute.
Cute.
Surprisingly the word didn't cause a bad taste in my mouth. Too bad it was only the start of how poorly I had imagined my road to freedom. And it all started with cute.
I apologize for the long wait for the second chapter, but I finally got hit with inspiration. I know the ending is kinda weak, but thoughts?
Enjoy!
