Consequences || Simon Ghost Riley

Chapter Eightteen || Recollection

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2:00 AM

Under the veil of a moon obscured by drifting clouds, Sky found herself perched on a solo bed tucked away in the shadowy nooks of the room. Her fingers absent-mindedly played with the fabric of her gloves as she keenly awaited the arrival of her assigned mark. The passage of almost a year since her unearthing was evident in her recovery - both physical and psychological. Her healed yet substantially scarred body bore testament to her past travails, while remnants of old thoughts reverberated louder than ever in the recesses of her mind, hinting at a chaotic inner life beneath her calm exterior.

     Following her liberation, she had successfully discovered her rhythm again and started embracing weekly tasks with a sense of purpose; all of which involved tying up loose threads, a task she proficiently mastered over the year. A component of her aspired to bid goodbye to her profession in light of her ordeals, however, she couldn't ignore the intoxicating excitement of danger; it was the sole flavor of life that still made sense to her. She felt a profound dullness, as if an attenuated shadow of her former self, and only her pursuits provided the solitary avenue for a sense of release.

     Perched on the small, ivory desk smudged with discarded tissues and a collection of neglected cereal dishes was the laptop, the device from which Sky had diligently retrieved essential information. The room was saturated with an enduring aroma of aged smoke mingling with a damp smell.

     Sky recognized this dampness originated from the slowly spreading mold that lurked in the corners of the room. To shield herself, she nudged her mask upward, ensuring it covered her nose and offered some respite from the peculiar and off-putting odor.

     The pungency of the odor in the air was as potent and stifling as being engulfed in a soggy marshland—unbearably strong and abhorrent. Regardless of this olfactory assault, the overriding need to accomplish her task surpassed any temporary discomfort. Protected beneath her mask, her jaw was set tight in dogged resolve, her determination unwavering and ironclad. With self-assured and targeted precision, she revealed her blade from its safeguarding sheath.

     Showcasing deftness and finesse only a seasoned professional could possess, she performed an elegant twirl with the blade, an extended dance of her seasoned practice.

     As she felt the robust rhythm of her heartbeat echoing through her chest, she deliberately calmed her breathing; this was the most labor-intensive aspect of her duties. The hours spent waiting for her target equaled the time that had to elapse before making her move. After days of vigilant observation, akin to a field mouse stealthily noting its surroundings, she'd become intimately familiar with their patterns.

     All the target's habits and routines were imprinted in her mind, with such clarity that she could replicate them without a second thought. The knowledge acquired from this extensive surveillance dictated her actions, signaling the ideal moment to take action. In her calculated perspective, tonight presented itself as an opportune time that was too good to miss.

     A transient smirk traced Sky's hidden lips beneath the guise of her mask, as her ears perked in anticipation of any sound resonating within the house. The faint noise of a key turning instigated a surge of adrenaline, prompting her to edge forward on her throne of anticipation. The thrill of the chase, the seconds ticking away before the puzzle pieces fit together - that was the epitome of excitement for her. As she detected the advancing rhythm of footfalls approaching the bedroom, she elegantly rose to her feet. In a fluid and swift motion, she stealthily slid under the protective cover of the bed. The room's door creaked open to reveal him just as she disappeared into her prepared hideout.