I's back!

_Chap 5_

Once I felt I had my head on straight both literally and metaphorically I stepped out of the shower to face the day. It was foolish but I felt a little jealous of Deb. It was only her third day back on the job after a month's absence. I was supposed to be helping her get back in the swing of things and instead I was the one falling apart.

Brushing off those useless thoughts I grabbed up my towel - still damp. Useless, I suspected. Provided Deb had done the wash recently there was probably a fresh one in her room. That was to say my room that she'd been squatting in for far too long.

It was only a few steps. With the shades closed I didn't bother to hold the damp towel around me but instead sped naked to my room as was my right as the owner of this bachelor pad. The air was chill against against my wet skin. It was midwinter in Miami and this was one of the rare days that the weather had dipped below sixty. Sadly my apartment only had air conditioning, not heat.

She hadn't done the laundry. Giving up on finding a dry towel I grabbed a handful of her shirts instead as revenge. I rubbed them against my body, careful to get every last drop of water. I caught a reflection of myself in the window when I felt I'd finished. I looked like me, which was reassuring. There were a few discrepancies. My hair was a touch more wild, a slight tint of blue visible in the tips. Below my eyebrows things took the opposite turn. No five o'clock shadow to be seen despite not shaving since yesterday morning. My body hair was shorter and blonder than I remembered. Still, essentially I was myself again.

I considered jumping in the shower again to erase the last hint of otherness but enough was enough. Dressing quickly I checked outside for Doakes. The coast was clear far as the eye could see. Thinking back I couldn't quite figure out the thought process that had led me to throw dog shit in his car but it had worked out in the end. It would take him all day to get his car cleaned and in the meantime I was free to do as I pleased.

It wasn't long before I was cruising the highway. A little stop at a hardware store for plastic and trash bags later and I was all set to kill. I turned onto the back streets of Miami, motels and waffle houses giving way to run-down apartments and hole-in-the-wall restaurants. I parked at my target's live-in shop, back of my car close to the door.

It was the middle of the day. Not ideal but this was a neighborhood where most people did their shopping at night after they got home from work. Pretty much everyone was either working or at school at this hour. There was always risk but I'd vetted both the man and the house weeks ago as I waited for my opportunity.

I turned the sign around to 'closed' as I walked inside, bells ringing. My target walked out to his desk to greet me, wholly unaware of his fate. Disappointing considering his profession. "I'm looking for a death curse."

Ah, he was a little wary now. Tempted though. If I could prove my bona fides he'd sell me one for sure, but that wasn't what I was here for. "We don't sell that sort of dark mojo 'round here. You have better luck down at the docks."

"I think you do, Jimmy Sensio." I drew out the syringe as I stocked closer. Him being blind took a lot of the fun out of it. This would be entirely too easy. "Ricin, wasn't it? Your poison of choice?"

"I don't know what you is talking abou'."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to turn you in." I removed the cap on the syringe, just steps away now. "I'm just going to kill you." I lunged. Much to my surprise the sixty-two-year-old blind man ducked like a meercat. Tripping over him I thumped hard into the shelves behind him. Falling to the floor after that actually helped as it got me in range of his leg. Not the perfect entrance point but a few seconds later the tranquilizer did its job. More troublesome was the big bucket of swamp water that tipped off the shelf above me.

"Yuck." I knew he did weird voodoo stuff but what possible use did he have for swamp water. I was drenched head to toe in the stuff, which brought difficulties beyond just the smell. My wet shirt stuck uncomfortably to my breasts and my jeans were nearly bursting at the seams. I went to pick at my shirt when I saw something quite disturbing.

"Leech!" Big black and red devil-spawned leeches all over me. Flight response hit me instantly. I tripped twice, once over Jimmy and a second time thanks to my oversized shoes, but I made it outside. I stripped out of my leech-covered shirt and started furiously scrubbing every inch of skin, jeans and hair until I was certain all the leeches were off me. Then I kept going for another minute until I noticed a middle-aged black woman giving me the evil eye.

'Damn it.' I'd made far too much of a fuss. There was no way that woman would forget I was here in a million years and I couldn't be certain that others hadn't seen my freakout. I had to call it off. Frankly it wasn't the best planned kill to begin with. Doakes and the trauma of seeing Deb wrapped in plastic on the table and then killing my brother must have affected my judgement.

I'd never called off a kill this late in the process before but theoretically there was nothing stopping me. He was blind and hadn't seen my face. He'd wake up in an hour or two with nothing but a needle mark to show for it. Possibly incriminating if I left any stray fingerprints behind but he wasn't the sort of man to go running to the cops. Far too many skeletons in his closet for that.

My own bones ached to put him six feet under but instead I walked away. I came within inches of grabbing my shirt back up off the ground but the possibility of there still being a leech hiding in it stopped me in my tracks. 'Ugh.' Not wanting to become a tourist attraction I jumped back in the car and after a little seat adjustment I was on my way.

Driving topless made for nice movies but it wasn't entirely enjoyable. Not only was there the worry that I'd get pulled over and the story would somehow get back to Deb, it was just plain physically uncomfortable. The seat was sticky against my wet back and the belt was digging into my boobs. It was even pushing the left one into my arm which made turning the wheel more difficult.

I decided to take a pitstop at a nearby beach. Thanks to the rocks and poisonous black sea urchins it wasn't too popular with tourists but as usual there were a few locals around. Also as was typical, they were all topless or entirely nude. Even with my crazy hair color I only got a few looks from afar as I stepped out of my vehicle. I was a little tempted to cross my arms to hide my breasts but that would just make me stick out more. Considering until thirty minutes ago I had nothing to hide I wasn't sure why I felt the impulse at all. Cultural shame contagion, I supposed.

The nice thing about this beach -besides the scenery- was that no cops came by. Not in uniform anyways. Public nudity was technically illegal but it was such a local tradition on this beach that no officer wanted to ruin it for fear of backlash from their friends and family. This made it not a terrible place to dispose of the evidence.

It probably wasn't necessary to get rid of the plastic but it would be at least a couple days before I could vet another target and I was getting nervous driving around with it. Far more nervous than I was about standing on the beach without a shirt now that I'd had a minute to get used to it. Normally having plastic in my trunk wouldn't be such a big deal but I had Deb at home, Doakes stalking me, and I didn't even have a driver's license for this form.

Sweating a little from the weight I dumped forty bucks worth of plastic sheeting into the nearby garbage can. Suspicious if anyone saw it but hardly criminal. No blood on these, for once. The knives and cleavers in my car were worrying me as well. Did I really need so many ways to kill a person? What was the point of a cleaver that could cut through bone when I typically used a power tool anyways. Honestly, having so many with me made me look like some sort of crazy serial killer… which I sort of was, but I prided myself on being a smart serial killer.

Looking over the tools I tried to decide which ones I actually needed. They were all wonderfully bright and shiny and capable of beautiful death. It was painful to give any of them up but I really did have too many. Just lifting the pouch of them strained my muscles. I was disturbingly weak as a girl but if I transformed mid-kill again I had to be prepared. Having items I couldn't lift wouldn't do me any good.

I ended up choosing a pocketknife and the small machete. The machete was a little iffy but they were both relatively common items for Florida citizens. I stowed the machete in the trunk and the folding knife in my pocket. Then I took a walk through the coconut trees and buried the rest of my tools in a shallow grave. Well, I would have if my hands were remotely up to the task of digging.

A longer walk took me into a swampy nest of mangrove trees. I kept a wary eye out for spiders and ants and threw the pack of knives into the first watery pit I found, titanium blades sinking into the depths. I rushed back out to the pebbled beach as quickly as my poorly fitted shoes would carry me. Besides insects there were gators and snakes and who knew what else in mangrove swamps. No one would be finding those knives.

I kicked off my loose shoes, toes curling in a patch of sand near the coconut trees. If I walked about a mile up the beach I'd hit a small touristy boardwalk. Still enough topless European girls for me to sort of fit in and it would give me a chance to buy a new shirt.

I briefly entertained the idea of washing my old shirt in the ocean until the salt took care of the leeches but it didn't much appeal to me. It seemed a little girlish and silly to be so freaked out by leeches but I assured myself that my fear had a practical component. After all, I had no idea where those leeches had been or who they'd been sucking on.

Leaving thoughts of aquatic bloodsuckers behind I set out on my quest. The breeze off the water smelled of salt, warm but not oppressive. The sun-warmed sand kept the January chill away despite my lacking attire though I did worry about the sun. It might be worth buying some suntan lotion when I bought a top but I doubted I'd be in trouble so long as I didn't tarry. My skin was more golden than white so while I'd still burn it wasn't like I was a ginger vampire.

I tried running briefly though I swiftly ran out of breath. It didn't hurt though to run without breast support which surprised me considering what I'd heard about big-chested ladies - a group that I'd somehow found myself a part of. Maybe it was because running in sand didn't have the same kickback as running on pavement. Either that or they didn't know how to run and were doing a fast up-and-down jog rather than an actual almost-flying propel-you-forward run. I'd have to do more research. If it was practical research I'd have to find a more out of the way spot though since even at several hundred yards distance there were some men watching my cans wobble around.

I kept my head down as I reached a crowded section of beach. Even so I swore I could feel eyes on me, could see feet turning my direction. By the time I hit the boardwalk I'd done what I'd resisted before and crossed my arms over my breasts to hide as much as I could. There were men following me now I was sure of it. Not wanting to get cornered I walked past the clothing shops and sped up my pace until I was running full-out.

I took back what I'd said previous, it definitely hurt to run without a bra. Each jarring impact of my feet against the pavement sent them painfully bobbing the opposite direction until I started to feel nauseous. I glanced behind me, fear turning my followers into indistinct blobs with shadowed faces. The realization that I was afraid was enough to edge me over into terrified because I hadn't felt an emotion this strong for longer than I could remember and it felt like I was losing my-

I drew the pocket knife, flicking open the blade as I turned down an alley. It was real, it was certainty. Guided by my hand it would bring death to bad people. In their death I would find peace, self temporarily subsumed in the moment as I made the world a better place. Even if my body changed this was still my purpose.