Bloody Conspiracies

The clamping of heels echoes throughout the desolate street, Castle-Meyer, with the only source of light coming from distant street lamps. My body sways along with my slick red dress as I make my way down the sidewalk. The cold, winter breeze chilling my bare legs with its touch. Across the street, bums litter the sidewalk while drug dealers lurk in the shadow. The sound of their chats and laughter filling the otherwise peaceful street. Walking further along, away from lurking eyes, a grand mansion comes into view on my left. It looks to be about two stories tall with outer walls lined in beige colored paint and extravagantly massive windows. Surrounding the entire property is an enormous black gate, which is guarded by two bodyguards. They are wearing clear metallic earpieces and have guns on holsters that stick out of their jackets. "Hello! My name is Lidiaaaa, and I am here to see" Hiccup "Mrr... Oh right. Falcone! Yes! I am here to see Falcone." I say while leaning on one of the guards.

"Man, I hate drunks," he says pushing me away. The other one speaks into his earpiece.

"I have to pee. Like really bad," I say with a giggle.

"Falcone says to invite her in." Before letting me in, the guard with comments pads down my body.

"Hey! It is rude to touch a lady without her permission!" I say lazily. "But if you are interested..."

"She's clean," he interrupts and they lead me through the gate, into the mansion.

"Wow! It's big in here, and the walls are so tall!" The two men lead me through the entrance which is decorated with photos of a man with shiny black hair and warm white-colored skin. Another photo being of who I can only assume to be his wife and daughter. A hint of anger rises in my chest. The floors are a pristine white marble with large decorations like tall gold vases and a grand piano filling the already glorious room. Walking up the stairs, I notice that several more guards are patrolling the area through the windows. On the top floor, we arrive at a room straight ahead. One of the men knocks on the door, alerting Falcone of our presence. Opening the door, he smiles. "Welcome, Lidia." Grabbing my hand, he kisses it. Entering the room, the door closes behind me with a light click.

"Baby! How come you never see me anymore? Have I been a bad girl?" I said tilting my head.

"No, of course not. I have just been too busy with work lately, but..." Touching my thigh, he finishes. "I know how to make it up to you."

"What about the guards? Won't they hear us?"

"No, this room is soundproof." My lips curl into a smile, and I kiss him. Using one hand to touch his chin, I curl the other into a fist, hidden behind his back. My nails dig so deep that blood seeps out. Pushing him onto a nearby chair, I turn my dripping blood into a shiny red, solid gun. His face now hardened, he asks "Who are you? A paid assassin? If you are, I can triple the amount they're paying you."

"I don't care about your filthy money. I want the prototype of the gun that your company secretly created."

"I don't know what you're talking about but if it's guns that you want, I have plenty of them. You can take whichever ones you want. Free of charge."

"Do you really think that you are in the position to charge anyone in the first place? No!" Getting in close to whisper in his ear I say, "I want the one that can kill a dragon."

"What? No. That gun is one of a kind. No one was even supposed to know of its existence. I can give you anything but-"

"I don't know if you noticed yet but I have a gun to your head. Though! If you need a little more convincing-" Shooting his left foot, he lets out an agonizing cry as he holds his foot.

"You mother-"

"If you don't mind, I'm on a schedule," I say while glancing at my watch. Getting out of the chair, he limps to the other side of the room. Placing his palms on the wall, a square-shaped hole opens in the wall. With the wall now open, I see the gun laying there. Quickly, he tries to use it but not before I can pull the trigger. His blood now splattered on the beige-colored wall, the stench of metal starts to fill the room. Sighing, I grab the gun off the floor and stick it inside a band I had secured around my leg. Drawing my blood back into my hand, I look at the safe one last time and notice a blinking red button. "Oh boy!" I say with exhaustion. Suddenly, the two men outside the door bust inside and started shooting. Clicking a button on the belt of my dress, all the bullets fall to the ground. Tossing their guns to the side, they start to swing at me. As the first guy throws a punch, I dodge and create a knife with my blood, slicing him in the neck. When the other guy reaches for me, I make my knife bigger, slicing off his arm. Falling onto the ground with his arm spitting out blood, he screams. Turning the knife back into a gun, I shoot him in the chest, stifling his cry. Leaving the room, the sound of men shouting along with the feel of their weight pounding against the floor echoes throughout the house. Still walking straight ahead, I catch the first three guys off guard with a bullet in the head. Then I turn my gun into a hatchet, separating two heads in one swing. Blood squirting out of their bodies as if water sprinklers. Another two men try shooting me from behind, but the bullets only fall to the ground. Turning, I throw two blood knives at the men's throats and watch as they gasp for their last breath. Looking around the room, pools of blood now stain the once pristine white floor. Lying helplessly on the floor, petrified gazes are etched into their ghostly faces. Touching the earpiece inside my ear, I say "It's done."

"Good work Myra," Dr. Freyr says as he and his living quarters appear before my eyes in a hologram state. "Very good my dear doll. It took you eight-minute and seven seconds, but I can forgive. You did entrance me with such an enticing display. It was like watching a child play with its food." He says nostalgically.

"It was an honor to be of entertainment," I say with a bow.

"Bring the gun to headquarters tomorrow."

"Yes Sir!"

"You can carry on with whatever you do. Your services are no longer required. The money has been wired to your account." He says before severing the link, disconnecting the live projector that connects his eyes to mine. Back inside the mansion, I step over bodies with no souls. A few blocks away, I go into a dark alley, where I ditch my black-red highlighted wig and a mask that I had been wearing to look more like Lidia, Falcone's side chick. Putting on my helmet, I get on my shining black hovercycle. Scanning my fingerprint to activate, I can feel it hum to life as it gently hovers the ground. Pull out of the alley, my cycle effortlessly cuts through the air like a knife. With the wind blowing through my jacket, the air gives me a surge of energy. Driving past hover cars and vibrant buildings, the world looks surreal and at peace. After rounding the corners and stopping at stoplights, I make it home. Parking into my designated parking spot, I use the elevator to get to my apartment on the fourth floor. Back home, my eyes adjust to the darkness. Throwing my jacket and kicking my shoes off as I walk in, I go straight to the bathroom to rid myself of the stench of blood. With the water hitting my face, my headache begins to cease. Allowing the hot water to burn the memories from my mind. When I'm done, I move in front of the mirror while drying myself off. Steam covering the glass, I wipe it with my hand. Clearing the image in the mirror, I could see myself. My dark brown skin and short curly black hair that is more tangled than ever now that it is wet. Bushy dark eyebrows with light brown eyes. All features that remind me of my dead parents. After drying my hair, I grab bandages and alcohol from inside a drawer. Pouring alcohol on my hand, I wince. Wrapping my hand, I leave the bathroom with a white t-shirt on. Leaving the bathroom, my watch blinks from a video message. “Hi Myra. We just wanted to tell you that we can’t wait to see you when you visit,” a woman says in front of the camera. 

 “Hey, Myra. When are you coming back? We miss you! Can we ride on your back when you come back? Mrs. Tanner won’t let us ride on hers,” several different children blurted from in the front of the camera. Trying to talk over the children's questions, Mrs. Tanner says, “I’m sorry about this. We will end the video here.” When the video on the watch turns black, the warmth that I felt in my heart dissipates. Along with the smile, that just as quickly went away. Going into the kitchen, I grab a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. Popping it open, I drink as I move toward a board pinned to the wall in the living room. On it are pictures of the queen, her children, her associates, and people who are important to the plan in itself. Getting a red marker, I cross out Falcone's picture. In the center, I stare at the queen's photo, my blood burns from lingering memories. My anger bubbling over as I finish my bottle, I throw it at her. Wishing for the glass to stick to her skin and cover her with blood if she were really here. Needing a breath of air, I walk over to my balcony. Climbing onto the stone that separates me from the earth, I stand at the edge. Dark grey clouds engulf the starry night sky. Bare trees whistle soothing melodies through the crisp winter breeze, while the air smells of sweet pungent earth. Along with the wind are the automatic sounds of Ethoria. The bright lights of buildings and hovercars shine throughout the city. Flashing of colors from stoplights at intersections and luminous colors of fast-food restaurants. Taking both my hands, I shape it as if I was capturing a picture. The picture consists of all the world's beauties. Slowly, I stick out one of my legs. All I needed was a slight push that could send me off the ledge. Closing my eyes, I try to lean forward if only a little. Then I would be set free, but my legs hold still. Letting out a sigh, I step down and go back inside. Closing the door, I lay down on my couch and grabbed a little white teddy bear sitting on the glass table in front of me. For several hours I just looked at it. Touching it's somewhat chard fur and the spot where it's missing an eye. Turning to sleep, I hold it tightly against my chest. Breathing in the smell of smoke that is engraved within the fabric. The smell that seems to never leave my mind, even as time moves past me. Softly, the sound of raindrops fills the silence. Creating a beautiful song, from what seems like tears. Sighing, I close my eyes, but the red of their blood haunts me still. Their screams and pleas for me to join them in the hell I brought upon them. In a sea of blood, I can't seem to get free. Forever drowning in an endless abyss.

*To read the rest.  Go to wattpad and search Bloody Conspiracies*