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That's the Plan (2)

I was running through the woods. Screaming as the man who had kidnapped me was chasing me. Not for escaping but for sport. He kidnapped me so he could play chase in a mortifying way. I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could possible move. I hadn't realized there was roots from a tree sticking out until I began rolling down a hill and stopping in a cold, shallow lake. I gasped for air, my stomach felt like I had been punched thousands of times. My head was pulsing, my body was twitching, I was cold and hungry and so so tired. I felt sick, I could almost die just there but I couldn't. Not yet at least. I stood up wobbling. 

My head hurt so bad and my vision was blurry. I confusedly stand up and began running. Far away as possible. Gun shots started going off in my direction and I could barley dodge them. One grazed my shoulder and I yelped loudly. I was greeted by a fence blocking my way, the man and his friends were still coming. I climbed up the fence the best I could. As soon as I got to the top I fell off the other side with a hard thud onto the wet, muddy field.

The guys all shouted at each other in Swedish. I started to slowly run as the bullets continued to rain around me. They stopped suddenly. I slowly peaked over my shoulder to see they had stop. Frozen in time. I didn't dare stop running, I continued. My body was going warm and I knew it was just the pain nothing more. My body got a shock of cold and I stopped running, I started to throw up into the grass. Tears streamed down my face. Not only because I was fighting for my life but because I also hated throwing up. I gasped, coughed, groaned, and cried. A water bottle blocks my vision, I stood up to see a fancy dressed women handing me water. I grabbed it tightly, "Thank you." I barely spoke out before shoving water down my dry throat.

"I've been watching you." I look up at her confused spitting out a bit of water, "What?" she laughs a bit. "I seen you running from those men and the way it seems, I don't think they're your friends now are they?" I shake my head quickly coughing. "They kidnapped me and are now hunting me down like some kind of animal." I spit out and she doesn't show any emotions. "I can get you out of here, away from those men but under one condition." I sit up straight as my body looses adrenaline and I get filled with longing for sleep. "Anything." she smirks looking down at my frail, fragile body. "I want you to work for me." I raise an eyebrow confused, I almost laugh. "What kind of work?" the women shrugs looking at me almost proud but disgustedly. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that." I bite my lip and extend my arm. "I'll do whatever you want as long as you get me out of here. Even if its murder." I laughed as we shook hands. 

We ended up in a building filled with people who were in a hurry to get work done. We climbed up the stairs and began chatting about all the work that had to be done. She talked about all the potential I had. We sat down at her desk as she talked about all the things I'd have to do. Paper work, taking out the trash, travelling around the world and different eras. 

"Well, y/n. I didn't even tell you my name." I shrugged, a bit confused on how she new my name, maybe it came up some how. "You can call me the Handler. I'm the boss around here." I rise an eyebrow nodding. "A female as the leader? Pretty badass if you ask me." I laugh, you see I'm from 1960. Racism, sexism, gender stereotypes, transphobia, homophobia, chaos, and stupidity was the norm. If you weren't a straight white male, you were nothing. So seeing a female in charge was absolutely life changing. The Handler also had brought me to a Colored women who was the boss of white men not only that. They had different types of people in all shapes and sizes working together. I couldn't believe my eyes. I'm glad people are treated equally here, the only thing that matters is your skills and persistence. I could definitely get used to this job.

I did get used to it, a little to used to it. Little did I realize that murder would be the simplest thing I'd have to do. Little did my young naïve, desperate self not realize what she really meant. She turned me into a stone cold, deadly murder. I felt nothing anymore, at first it was sadness that had consumed my body, then it was guilt and anger. Which turned into an emptiness feeling, I couldn't care who I hurt or killed anymore. A job was a job. The thing is, I don't think it was silly for me to be upset or sad or empty because believe me I wish I still was. Because now. Now I've learned to enjoy it. It used to be just a job but now, now it's a hobby of mine. Killing. The adrenaline that runs through my veins when I am about to kill someone and the waiting and worrying if I'll be caught is just a better feeling.

You may be wondering, what does this have to do with Five Hargreeves. What ties him into all of this? Well, I'll tell you some information, the rest of it will be uncovered later.

Five Hargreeves used to work where I work which is the commission. I regret ever meeting him. This story. What he had done. The betrayal, the lies, the regret. What he had done was horrible, I want him to pay for what he did to me. I've decided that I wanted him dead, so that's the plan. ...