It’s that time again…
This one’s a newbie.
#KissesandCrimesTWO is coming.
Someone was in the room.
I withdrew the knife carefully from the edge of the desk, locking my limbs. The study was bigger than I thought, and I was stupid enough not to have checked it first.
I cursed myself quietly, damning to hell my impatience, my sloppiness, and whatever fucker was currently in the room with me.
I waited so long that my boots began to grow roots into the floor. Because that’s how you flushed out an enemy. You smothered him with patience, lulling him into an ill-conceived comfort until eventually he slipped up.
He made a move. He touched an object. Or he breathed. And when he did, you were there to pounce on it, snuff it out. Eliminate the threat.
It was a lesson that my threat would soon learn… because he had done all three. Unable to hold position, he wandered carelessly towards the center of the room from the side bathroom door.
He had assumed that the threat was gone. He had assumed oh so fucking wrong.
I counted his footsteps, measuring his distance by their sound.
Ten feet. Seven feet. Five feet. Two.
He was practically on top of me. But the room was pitch black. Moonlight barely filtered through the darkened curtains, and he couldn’t see me, hunkered behind the oversized desk, my hands ready, my breathing steady.
By the time he recognized the danger, it was too late. I descended like a tsunami.
I struck outwards, reaching with all ten fingers until I felt smooth skin. Once my fingertips brushed the tip of the spine, I slide them upwards.
I was always good at this part.
In less than a second, I was capable of taking total control of the neck. I compressed it between my palms. Victorious, I squeezed, slamming two hands around the stranger’s throat until I could feel the air escape.
I never squeezed to harm. No. Not at this point, at least.
I squeezed enough to stun, to sink the threat into the depths of submission. I never killed for pleasure, but I had killed. I was a coffee man, so it wasn’t exactly my “cup of tea”… but my tastes did vary when it called for it. And with the pressure of tonight’s mission on my shoulders, my appetite was positively whet.
I growled quietly into a face that I knew could barely wheeze. My voice was pure gravel. It never occurred to me how soft the body beneath my fingers actually was. I was so close my teeth could almost graze the person’s lips.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.