Father (Rewritten)

(2023) Prologue : A Target.

2 Months Prior. Central America, Unknown State.

Crisp papers slip pass coarse fingers, joining the sad pile under the golden glow casted by his desk lamp, shrouding anything beyond the light in darkness, across an expansive mahogany desk wide enough to accomdate a group of people to use but alone, the suited man's huge frame out-intimidates his desk and took up the space of several people. 

Mostly his elbow-spread stance does.

 Eyeing the pile of words like distasteful entrails, the intensity of his steel gaze almost causing the papers to shiver away... But it is only his soft breath that is the real cause of the small rippling movements. 

Lifting one of the papers, he hopes for something interesting to keep the gears in his mind continuously moving. At worst, something that he can busy himself neck-deep in.

This one barely covers the standard rate he expects, a desperate plea for help written in rush ink. Charity cases aren't always fun. He brushes away the piece of paper off his desk, it escapes the lime light and becomes consumed by the void surrounding him, as he focuses on the rest. Numerous boring details.

Too young and too far. 

A year long contract? Next.

Densely populated area. Next.

Next. . .

Why is everything demanding so much work and preparation this year. So many cases full of hostility, years of built-up hatred, sadistic goals... The same old stories he can no longer bother with, the guaranteed big checks in the end not feeling worth the effort. 

He pushes his glasses back up the crooked path of his long nose, centering his attention particularly on photos plastered in the profiles send to him. Each of them unique, some crude and obviously chosen to look unflattering then... 

Next page brought out a brow-raising story. It captures him, the golden hue lighting emphasizing on the dramatics of this potential employer and their needs, along with it is a poorly taken photo of a prepubescent girl chewing on the remaining crescent of a lollipop. 

What the instructions entail for him sound like something straight out of a soap opera when there's an add on note of a generous double amount they're willing to deposit. Reality only saddens that observation. Not that it's his business to pry. The less he knows, the better for the future... He could use some traveling.

Claudia Ling.

18 years old. 

Mixed blood.

Step sister as the guardian. 

Grey rooftop, beige walls, white door and accents the windows. Lack of a car. 

He'll have to thoroughly search around for her exact location... And guess what her grown-up self looks like.

.  .  .  

A pebble-size town next door to the city of Stars, insignificant with its 600 populace yet bordering along the countryside which is a great escape route. The digital map shows multiple green routes available, all of them half a day's worth of driving. 

Too easy. Then again one would need a few slow days, or months in this case, in life to enjoy the later coming fun. A shark-like smile flashes on his dimly lit face.