The Plan. Part One

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He awoke with a start and as he opened his eyes he began rubbing at his chest.

Would his nightmare ever end?

He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was rapid and for reasons he did not know he felt on edge. He stretched his limbs as far as his surroundings would allow him and then he sighed.

Could he really handle staying in this hell hole for the next fourteen years?

Sure he could easily entertain himself but even for him fourteen years in one place was pushing it. Then again he'd been trying to accomplish what they had told him was impossible for decades and if his past failures had taught him anything; it was that he needed to be patient. Patience was the key, he had rushed the process with the others, and they had died because they had not been ready. This time it had to work because this one was perfect. The pictures he had been sent had astounded him, the resemblance was uncanny and even though she was only seven he could see it. He had never believed in doppelgangers before but now he did.

Rachael Emily Evans was soon to be his and she was going to kill his maker.

He climbed out of the old abandoned car he had spent the night in and stretched again trying to relieve the aching in his bones, he needed to find somewhere to stay.

'Lovely old Hackney,' he thought to himself as he looked around at the abandoned buildings, which now accommodated junkies, prostitutes and the homeless. They were derelict, damp and falling apart. Graffiti covered almost every wall and even though he desperately needed a roof over his head, the stench seeping from inside was so over powering that he could not even put his foot through any of the doors.

He checked his watch, it was only four thirty in the afternoon but dusk had already started to fall.

He jumped as voice behind him said, 'Hi.'

Was his game off, he had not even heard him approaching. Hunger, that must be it he is hungry.

He turned around to face the voice that had just spoken he was male probably in his early teens judging by the way he was dressed. He wore a red baseball cap with the peak to the back, baggy jeans which showed the brand of underwear he was wearing with a tight red three quarter sleeved t shirt. He wore several cheap silver necklaces and bracelets along with a ring on every finger.

He smelt of the cheap aftershave Joop but at least he smelt clean, in fact he smelt quite inviting.

"Are you Josh?"

Winston shook his head.

"Oh," the boy replied, "he was supposed to meet me here."

Winston ran his hands through his thick dark floppy hair and eyed the boy. He quickly looked around the area was deserted and quiet, quite perfect in fact for a long and vicious attack.

"Not seen you around here before, are you new to the area?" The boy asked.

He stared back at the boy in silence, folded his arms and lent back against the car waiting for the perfect moment to strike which was not just yet the boy was too calm.

The boy showing no fear began pulling small bags from his pockets, "how about a little pick me up. I got E, whizz, caps or acid."

Winston looked right into the boy's eyes wondering what he would taste like and he smiled as the boys heart picked up pace.

"Something to calm you then," the boy said as he pulled a bag of weed from his back pocket. He was starting to become slightly nervous he'd never met anyone that was so silent before.

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