I watched as Leosandra Mustanie, the right hand killer for H.P.S and Randall Harmoney; searched Mo’nique Myles’ house. I smiled sardonically when she came up empty. I knew that this would happen because I planted the same shells that matched Mo’nique’s gun at the scene where I killed her guards and made her run for her life, and set the perfect trap for dearest Leosandra and H.P.S. But she turned out to faster than I thought. It took her less than ten minutes to complete her job, but it’s taking her longer to find evidence of what went on before she arrived, to see if foul play was involved or that Mo’nique simply lost her mind and shot all but two of her guards, luckily I thought to clean up after myself.
My bitter smile widened when Leosandra saw how of a mess I had made of Mo’nique’s guards. It was my heaven, bathing in their cooling blood, replaying the sounds of their screaming and pleas for me to spare them all. I curled my lip in distaste. They were all fools, they were nothing but mere stains on humanity, their lives were worth nothing but their deaths were worth so much more, but I knew that my heaven is Leosandra’s hell.
I watched curiously as she unclipped her phone from her belt and dialled someone, probably Randall…I quickly turned up the listening device and strained my hearing.
“Randall we have a huge problem, and by huge I mean that we may have a third party involved.” She paused and listened to what Randall has to say.
She frowned and paced back and forth.
“Because there is no way in hell that Mo’nique Myles would do this to her guards, first of all she hired them so they can protect her, not to slaughter them. I think you need to get a clean-up crew out here, and a forensics team to come and have a look before the police get here.” She paused and listened again, nodding here head in agreement.
I smiled again.
Things just got interesting…
* * *
“I’ll wait for them to get here. But while I’m waiting, I’m going to check out the security tapes and try to find out what the hell went on here and who did it. I’ll talk to you later.” I clipped my phone back onto my belt and threw one last glance at the sight of fifty, mutilated and disembowelled pieces of meat that lay scattered around the room. And I mean meat because, that’s what they look like, just red, shiny and wet meat, with the occasional bone protruding through mangled flesh and ripped muscle.
How anyone could be so merciless and animalistic is beyond me, and I take people’s lives just to pay my bills
But did I feel sorry for them? Surprisingly, yes. No one, no matter how evil they are, deserves such a death as this.
Shaking away the slight spark of sorrow that had somehow crept through my calm façade, I proceeded toward the security room and settled in to go through hours and hours of tapes.
Bully for me.