Page 29 of Collateral Damage

His flight lands at 3am and luckily I have his registration number, the sick fuck won't even make it back home when I'm finished with him but I've got time to kill so I sit here. Sometimes I can be out here all night. I've nothing else better to do and today is probably the most normal day I've had since I was a kid. Company has never been my thing but it felt strangely nice, even if it was in silence.

There were things today that I said, that I've not said for a long time and things I relived that I'd rather have not thought about and for some reason it was annoyingly easy with her, but it doesn't take away the pent up anger I now need to channel into this man's face to quiet the mind. When I'm not next to her my head is suddenly so fucking loud I want to smash it into the nearest wall. Sometimes I'm nearly successful. I've thought about it recently, but the idea is suddenly not so interesting to me. Yes, I lied to her. Maybe because I have aplaythingto keep me busy, it stops the intrusive thoughts from clouding my heavy thirst for death.

I've killed three men this month and each time it's been less and less satisfying, it's pissing me off. Hopefully this asshole can relieve me of some emotions. I've been feeling far too much recently when I shouldn't, and what's worse is they are emotions I cannot fucking understand.

??

I’m parked in a stolen vehicle, sat out of sight by the entrance to the airport waiting patiently for his arrival. It's 3:20 and I saw the plane fly in just after three so it won't be much longer now. I roll another cigarette to pass the time, fiddling with my switchblade between my fingers, suddenly imagining it tracing her soft skin and I quickly snap myself out of it.Focus Hayden. Get your mind out the fucking gutter.

Why the fuck am I thinking about her right now?

It's a fairly busy airport even at this time, so I have to be strategic and follow him for at least an hour until we are out of the city.I fucking hate this city.Everything about it makes me want to vomit. How anyone could enjoy living in this concrete jungle full of narcissistic pricks is beyond me. The air smells of polluted trauma and the quicker I get out of here the better.

Play - ‘Death Is No More (Slowed) - BLESSED MANE’

Eventually he pulls out, taking a sharp right driving away from me. The number plate matches so I turn the key and boot up the engine to pursue him with caution, keeping my distance. Luckily the roads are dead so I won't lose him between cars and I tail his ass for around thirty minutes until we reach the outskirts of the city. Clustered forests and open fields are all you see for miles besides the odd house. It's just me and him on the road and adrenaline lines my blood stream, grinning like the Devil as my foot flaws the gas until I'm touching the floor smashing straight into the back of him,I gotta give it to him he knows how to control a car.

I flick the nose of my front end, whipping vigorously into the back corner of his car until he spins out of control heading straight for the ditch, both my feet find the brake, slamming toa halt, stopping so hard my back tires are burning and the smell makes me roll my eyes into the back of my skull.

The car is in the ditch headfirst and upside down, smoking like an old steam train as I exit my vehicle, nails scraping across the knobbly concrete as I grip my bat firmly. He's not conscious but I'm sure I can wake him up. Bending to meet the window on the floor, he's spewing blood down his temple but still breathing, he took quite a few tumbles, I'm surprised he's even still alive.

I unplug the seat belt, gripping the scruff off his pristine blazer as I yank him from the seat like a chew toy through the shards of glass tearing him to pieces. I sit him up against the chassis of the car, his limp body leaning into me as I secure him by the shoulder.

“Rise and shine asshole.” I take his arm, dislocating it from the elbow forcing him to react to his survival instincts. He wakes abruptly, yelping out like an injured hyena and it's a sweet song I sleep to in my subconscious.

“Please! What do you want from me! I'll give you anything!” He's dreary as he looks for me in my many clones, corrupting his dizzy vision, clutching to his floppy arm like it's going to fall off. Fortunately for him I didn't bring a saw with me.Bummer. My Little Dreamer had a good idea there.

“I don't like liars. The only thing valuable to me is your demise.” He reeks of money and overly expensive cologne mixed with the metallic stench of blood and that is irony. This is why I do this. To show them that no amount of money can postpone their death. No matter how much dollar you have in the bank, karma is its thief, stealing their security and breaking their walls.

“Who the hell are you!?” I am many things. If I'm honest I don't know who the hell I am. I'm not a who, I'm a what.‘Who’would imply I'm human, and I'm far from it.A freak. A Clown. A Monster. An abomination maybe.

“Your Karma.” My blade dances the length of his neck, curving over his apple before pushing the point beneath it.

“I have a wife and kids! Please” I was hoping he'd say that. This makes it so much more ironic.

“Exactly.” I lick my lips, savouring the taste of paint, gagging to taste blood. My trophy awaits me as my sinister smile takes a hold of me, imagining all the ways in which I could make him suffer.

“Please don't do this. It's my little girl's birthday tomorrow!” Why do these fucks always bring up their kids on death's door like they give a flying damn? If they did then I wouldn't be removing their stain.

Beating your child until they are begging you to finish it isn't exactlyLoveis it. My blood runs hot at the thought. At the thousands of children suffering in silence without a voice. How these cases get forgotten about to protect the voice of power. It repulses me.

“And I'm sure she will be a whole lot better for it. Maybe one day when she's all grown up, I'll visit her and she can thank me personally for doing her a favour aye?” My gloves meet his cheeks, tapping him to focus on me as his head falls into his chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?!You freak!” That word used to keep me hidden in toilet cubicles during lunch hour. Now I kind of like it. It has a ring to it once you fill the expectation. It's almost a compliment.

“Even staring death in the face you are showing your true colours Mr. Jones,” running his ugly mouth is only fuelling my drive to pluck his fucking eyes out. I grip his chin roughly, tugging to set his focus on me as my switchblade flicks into view.“Give me a smile.”

The cunt spits in my face, fighting what dizzy energy he has trying to release himself from my hold. “Go to hell.” I can't lie,the laugh that slips even sends chills down my spine. Hell is where I belong, did he really think that was an insult? I work for the Devil. I deliver evil and in return I save lives.

“Oh we’re in it.Together. And when you reach the other side, tell big boy,Hayley Moore sent you.”I'm not sure who exactly I'm referring to, it could be the Devil. It could behim. But either way it’s a message.

“You won’t get away with this you sick fuck!” Maybe he’s right, but I've got far too much blood on my hands now to slip up. I’ve perfected it, beat the system. He isn’t my first and he won’t be my last. This is a nerdy hobby for me. There is a reason I've not been found.Because I don't want to be.

“You and many others love to tell yourselves you’re untouchable. Well, let me tell you something.” I lean in close, giving him every opportunity to attack but his arm is slightly getting in the way of that. The tip of my blade greets his eardrum with a cold welcome, holding it, still keeping him hostage beneath me.“Do you think you’re the first person, second, third even? To say that?” As I count, I push deeper, piercing the drum until he’s screaming like a baby. “This? This isn’t for me. This is for your little girl. And as long as she’s breathing, I will keep getting away with it.” My free hand grips his gel-covered hair, sliding between my fingers as I tug it back vigorously until he’s looking up to his non-existent God. I tuck the blade into the corner of his mouth before drawing it out towards his cheek bone in an upwards motion watching it bleed real pretty.

“Give us a smile.”

“Please! Plea- FUCK-!” Fleshy muscle, blood and jawbone peer through the gaping hole now opening the side of his face as he thrashes against me. I break the fingers of his mobile hand when he attempts to punch me in the gut. His fight slowly fades, so stunned by overwhelming pain that his body shuts down.

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