Double Lifes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Living a double life is hard. Brynn gets her first taste of high school and meets David Riley an all around good guy who has a double life himself.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Double Lifes

Submitted: March 26, 2013

Reads: 86

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Submitted: March 26, 2013





Chapter 1: Assassins Life

“Are you scared of me?” I thrashed against the rope and chair I was tied to. A face emerged from the shadows. Scars criss crossed his face like tiny x’s. His voice was a whisper as he limped toward me. I started kicking my legs, wiggling around but it was no use, he was a step away from me. “Do I scare you?” He asked looking down at me. I shook my head and tilted it up. In an instant his hand was on the gag. He was making it tighter. I whimpered in pain, then the gag fell from my mouth. I spit in disgust. “Speak”, he rasped. His shadow bore down on me. “Its you that should be afraid of me.” He gave a bone-chilling laugh that seemed to last forever. He turned his back toward me, when he did I made my move. I finally cut the ropes on my hands and was working on my legs. After I was done, I cocked my leg out to deliver a devastating blow. That was when he turned around. My right foot lashed out. My heel catches him in the center of the breastbone. I hear the bones crack as he topples toward the floor; his weapon still holstered inside his coat. He sprawls on the floor at my my feet beside the overturned chair. All this happens in a matter of minutes. He was gasping for breath as blood poured out of his mouth. I crushed the walls of his heart as well as the bones of his chest. He was going to die, but not just yet. I knelt beside him and gently put my hand on his forehead. Love often flows through me for my victims.” No one had to hurt tonight, you should’ve listened to me.” He drew in short raspy breaths. I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Who sent you after me?” He began to stutter. “Please don’t kill me, it was just a job, I don’t want to die.” I grabbed him by the neck with my high-fire rifle equipped with a silencer against his forehead. I whispered in his ear, “ Then you should’ve never been born.”I took the gas can that was in the corner and lit the place up. His body was left on the floor as I walked outside. My porsche was a block away from the warehouse. The sight of flames in my rearview mirror was a reminder of that night I became a assassin.


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