Chapter Twenty-Five

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I had found myself at a crossroads; something I hadn't been stuck at in a very, very long time. Jack had sent me a message letting me know that he was unable to get into (Name)'s house due to the entire place being swamped with police. I knew I had at least an hour and a half to make up my mind, and the thought ate away at me more and more the longer I brewed on it. 

Jack was right in every sense. Just being in her presence was exhilarating. Her humanity was a breath of fresh air compared to the hostility I was used to. When her gaze was fixed on my own, her irises were soft, welcoming, warming. She hadn't been exposed to the vulgarity of the real world. She hadn't been captured by a faceless creature only to end up employed by him, following his every whim and doing his dirty work for him. She hadn't killed hundreds, thousands even, of people. None of them ever had a name to me; they were assignments, not people with children, wives or husbands, mothers or fathers. Assignments.

But (Name)? She was a person. A fully-feeling, sympathetic person with intimidating (eye-color) eyes that bore right thorough my every thought and movement. She hadn't known me from Adam, yet I knew her.

At first I didn't get it, but then, I understood. Through the small conversation I had managed to have with her, she recited her version of events from the last few days. She had been kidnapped because her fiancé had access to business accounts on his laptop; it wasn't like I didn't know all of it already, or that I hadn't been one of the people involved in the failed robbery of her fiancé.

I didn't listen intently because it was new information, but because it was her information. And for the first time in my entire career, I was introduced to the victim's side; the pain and confusion they would face from our actions, our meticulous planning to ruin their lives. We were playing God. It was simple to figure out someone's life information, like their address or their full name and place of work, but it was a whole different thing to account for what they'd go through. We weren't assigned to think about their feelings; we were assigned to murder, to be heartless, and to be resentful. But the longer her lush lips moved, her story falling from her lips and gracing my ears, her voice slowly molded into that of one I hadn't heard in so long.

"..I guess he must have been stalking me for a while to be able to remember my exact address.."

Alex's voice rang out from her lips, his words beating at my eardrums mercilessly. Tears began to well in the corners of my eyes as I abruptly turned from him, scouring the forest floor for my mask.

I knew I hadn't left it outdoors, but where had I left it, again? Come to think of it, when did I even leave the mansion? I was just there a second ago, right?

A soft hand landed on my shoulder as I stooped over myself, trying not to puke.

--(Name) POV--

"..Tim?"

He shot up rigidly, his eyes wide with.. fear?

I looked him over for any reasonable sign for alert, even glancing just beyond him, desperately scouring the tree line for something he may have seen that would set him off like that, ultimately seeing nothing.

A single tear had left a trail along his cheek. 

"Hey, are you alright?"

He didn't answer, but what he did instead definitely surprised me, if not shocked me.

His strong arms pulled together around my frame as he held onto me; I knew he was crying, as his tears started dampening the collar of my shirt. Yet, I didn't make a move to stop him or struggle out of his hug. For some reason, I knew he really needed this. Tim wasn't a bad guy, I could tell that much right away. At some point in our conversation, he had mentioned not really wanting to hurt people or kill them, but growing accustomed to it as a means to survive. Then, after a period of time, it started to feel normal, and he realized it had just become a part of his life.

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