Each of the glass cases felt the wrath of the bookend before a slice of the ripped up portrait was tossed inside to be used as kindling. The match was struck. The flame bounced excitedly on the tiny piece of wood I held between my fingertips as if it was desperate to bring peace to these women as much as I was. I let it fly through the air into the first container and watched as fire engulfed his first victim. Another match was struck and fire engulfed the next, and so on until each of the women couldn't be seen for the thickness of smoke and flame. I stood amongst them, watching as their pain was seared away. They felt no pain, no anguish. And neither did I. There was a strange sensation of zen watching as the flames spread throughout the room. The monster was dead. But another was reborn. From the ashes the phoenix rises, so the saying goes. Strange, it doesn't feel as poetic as it sounds. Tossing the last sizzling match into the abyss of the flames I turn and walk out of the room. The flames stalking me like paparazzi as I moved throughout the house. By the time I had opened the main door and stepped out into cool, night air the entire house was ablaze. Crossing my arms to keep away the bitter cold, I began down the path towards the road only to come to a halt when two men stepped out of a big black vehicle. They both wore black, big boots, and their faces were stoic. I kept my eyes on both of them, my zen suddenly dissolving into bittersweet agony. Not again, I thought.
"Angie." The older man said, holding out a large hand for me to shake. "It's good to meet you at last." His friend gave me a strained smile, "good to meet you."
I didn't take his hand. "Look fellers, I've had a shit week. I just want to go home." I said, attempting to side step them. But they both moved with me. "We can't allow that."
"Who are you?" I whined, trying to push by. The older man was the one to reply, "I'm Agent Wolf, this is Agent Ripper."
"How original." I laugh, as they drag me to their car and force me into the back. "So you're the FBI, huh?" They both got in. The car dipping a little as the older, larger man got in the drivers seat. He spoke without turning to me. Instead he started the car and pulled away from the curb. His friend cleared his throat in disapproval.
"Not exactly."
YOU ARE READING
HUNTER
HorrorAngie is the youngest of seven brothers and sisters. While her siblings are getting married and having children, Angie is trying her best to make it through the day. With failed relationships galore, her career in tatters, bills piling up on the ki...
