The Hollow and The Saint

Reads: 3112  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 12 (v.1) - The Fall of Great Men

Submitted: June 27, 2017

Reads: 86

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 27, 2017



It was 1963, the year in which hope rose in the hearts of American people after Martin Luther King Jr. made his inspirational ‘I Have a Dream’ speech. It was also the year when, despite living in the strongest country in the world, these same people knew that nobody was safe, not even their president. As this was the year in which John F. Kennedy was assassinated.

Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested for the assassination of the century, only an hour and half later. Don't tell me you believed that a case of this magnitude would have been resolved in such a short time? How can I be sure, you say? Well, if I wasn't part of the most powerful secret organization in the world, I would have been deceived just like you.

Oswald was just a name thrown at the people to feed their anger and to cover up the real perpetrator, the Illuminati. Yes, an assassination of this scale with this much cover - only they could pull off something this big.

It was also the year in which I received my first Illuminati contract, all thanks to The Baron, that is. I waited three years for him to deliver on his promise, but that special contract finally came.

There are two types of contracts. There are the ones that are ordered by third party clients, like the contract I had on Arthur. These contracts were only accepted if they served the Illuminati goals, but their purpose was simply to raise funds and to keep the assassins in the business.

On the other hand, the Illuminati’s own contracts were purely motivated by their agenda. They made these contracts to shift the balance of power in their favor by targeting prominent figures, whether to incite rebellion, chaos, or in some cases, to bring peace.  

The target of my contract was so important that it drew national attention. However, this assassination was later overshadowed by the JFK.

In the era where racial tension was at its peak, Medgar Evers rose as an African-American civil rights leader, fighting against discrimination. Black people didn't have the right to drive cars, to wear suits, or even to study in some universities. Black women who were maids in white households were not allowed to use the same bathroom as their employers, as it was said that they carried diseases. Instead, they used a separate bathroom, or were forced to go outside in the garden, even in unpleasant weather. It was even said that Emmett Till, a fourteen year old African-American boy was killed for talking to a white woman. All of this, and many more other acts of discrimination, gave rise to several activists, and Medgar Evers was one of them.

After growing up in a Mississippi farming family, Evers enlisted in the United States Army in 1943. He fought in both France and Germany during World War II before receiving an honorable discharge in 1946. Although African-Americans risked their lives to defend their countries, yet they were denied from their basic human rights. Evers was one of Mississippi's most prominent civil rights activists. He fought racial injustices in many forms, including the way in which the state and local legal system handled crimes against African Americans. Clearly, Evers was a becoming an influential figure, which made him a useful fuse to the bomb.


It was June 12, 12:30 a.m. I had an M1917 Enfield Rifle .30cal ready in my hands. I was in the alleyway, two streets away from Evers’ home. I was waiting for him to arrive.

When I was on a mission, I could feel my mind clear, my nerves steady, my senses sharp. It was the only thing that made feel… alive. Unlike back home where I had been feeling disturbed and empty. Especially after Valentine's day’s turn of events… Elizabeth and I were still talking to each other and hanging out together, but it felt awkward, as we had never spoken about that night since. It was like we were pretending it never even happened. I could tell that she wanted more from me, but I couldn’t deliver.  For me, Eli was like a sister, a mother and a daughter. I could never giver her what she really wanted. But at least I thought I could make her happy, once my dream came true.

It was 12:40 a.m. and Evers was getting out of his car. I zoomed in with my scope. He was wearing a ‘Jim Crow Must Go’ T-shirt. As he approached the door, I knew that his family was waiting for him inside. I took a deep breath, hardened my grip, and finally, pulled the trigger. It was a clean hit. The bullet struck right into his heart from the back and lodged itself in his front door.

He didn't die immediately. I could see him staggering on the floor, as if he refused to give up. I could’ve double tapped him with another bullet, but a wound to the heart is fatal. Even if he received immediate treatment, his death was imminent.

I watched him with passion, looked on as his breathing became raucous and labored. His wife came out after hearing the gunshot, and immediately took him to the hospital. I left my rifle in the area nearby and went after them. Il wanted to see him meet his fate with my own eyes.


“Sorry ma’am, we can’t admit Mr. Evers, you need to look for another place,” said the receptionist.

‘What do you mean you can’t admit a wounded citizen? It’s a human life we are talking about right here!” Ever’s wife yelled, shocked by his response.

“I apologize, but I can’t help you, it’s protocol, you have your own hospitals, why not go there?” the receptionist responded.

“The nearest hospital is out of town, he would die on the road!”

They refused to admit him because of his race. That was the ugly truth that he tried to sugar coat with his wicked words. I may have killed the man, but it doesn't mean I didn't respect him. Despite all the odds, with the government and people against him, Evers managed to understand the concept of power. Stronger than influence, more permanent than money, and more effective than words. Power dominates all.

If the tables were turned and I was in charge of this society, he would have been without a doubt part of my perfect world. I couldn't let him die at the hospital doors, it was too disgraceful.

I approached the receptionist and took him aside with my knife under my sleeve, pointed between his legs.

"Listen carefully to what I have to say, if you value your life and the lives of those you love, you will take that wounded citizen in, and apologize for that racist bullshit you just spouted out your ass, are we clear!?" I said with a threatening tone.

And so, he was admitted. Although, fifty minutes later, he was pronounced dead. Thus ended a true patriot and a bold activist.


After nine days, the FBI arrested Byron De La Beckwith, a fertilizer salesman and a member of the white citizen's council, for the murder of Medgar Evers. They had found his prints on the rifle used to assassinate Evers. Another name to feed the public’s hunger for justice.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, the name Hollow was starting to make an echo in the assassination world, and I was getting arrogant. I thought to myself that, after all the successes I’d had in such a short space of time, and with all the death-defying situations I’d encountered, I was unstoppable. The truth was, I was an idiotic fool. I was so proud and cocky, I didn’t see the storm approaching. Just like with Arthur, I’d let my personal feelings interfere with the contract. This was bad for an assassin. I didn't care as long as nobody knew about it.

But a certain powerful man did know, and would use this knowledge to shatter the balance in the world and… the Illuminati itself. It would cause a tremendous storm that would forever change the very foundation of my being. My story was just getting started.


© Copyright 2018 zgoldenpen. All rights reserved.