V. Murderer

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V. Murderer

Evelyn woke to someone shaking her shoulder.

“Evelyn! Wake up!” Micah’s voice sounded. “It’s already past sunrise! We need to complete this mission!”

“Ugh,” was all she responded. She slowly opened her eyes to find Micah’s face above hers. Then her face turned beet red, and Micah blushed also, pushing himself up.

Evelyn climbed up, not bothering to look for anything to change into, since she hadn’t gotten the chance to pack anything. Neither had Micah, so they were both stuck to wearing the same clothes, without either of them taking baths either.

They both collected themselves and trudged down the hall of the motel, dragging their feet behind them, still tired to no extent. The owner gave them a half-hearted good-bye, and they started to wander through the town, taking in the sights and differences to where they’d used to live.

Evelyn had lived her entire life up until age seven at her old estate. Her father had been a rich man, as did her mother, so combined, they were... rich. When her father died all the money went to her mother, so the house had been renovated many times and Evelyn was pampered a lot. While her father was still alive though, she would occasionally go out into the forests to hunt with him, but never out into neighboring towns or villages.

Micah had been brought up spoiled, with a life mirroring Evelyn’s. He was an only child, who liked to explore his huge home by himself, while also forced to do chores and learn about reading, writing, and economics with his father. He turned to be a quite talented, but also independent young man.

Evelyn finally straightened and started to look around, Micah’s gaze following hers. The town was small, a perfect square shape, with forest surrounding on all sides. There were two main roads, which intersected at the center point of the town, at a glimmering fountain. Houses lines those streets, also small shops, all made of wood, while any homes not connected to the two roads, in the quadrants, were connected by small, dirt paths.

One home stood out the most, red brick looking bright red in the morning sun. In the midst of the browns of all the wood, the red stuck out like a sore thumb. At the top of the red brick building, sat a large, gold statue of a man, grim faced with a quill in his hand. On the platform he was standing on, the name: Nigel Carnac, Mayor.

Micah’s eyes fixed on the statue, taking in how the man looked. After all, they’d been told by a superior to kill that man. Evelyn quickly strode up the large pair of double doors, Micah in pursuit, and slid through them.

Inside was another sight all together. Red velvet covered the floor, draped onto the walls, gold slivers appearing in conspicuous patterns. There were many paintings, all of the same man-Nigel Carnac. Painted on some of the velvet on the walls had sayings, quotes. One of them read, “May this quaint little town flourish due to my leadership.” Evelyn scoffed. He truly was a greedy one.

No one in sight, Evelyn relaxed. They nimbly dashed across the rooms, down the single hallway, where one could hear a man with a loud voice scolding a worker.

“I am the leader! You are not to ever do anything without my consent ever again!” a powerful voice yelled.

“Yes, sir, Mayor Carnac,” a feeble voice replied.

“Never mind! You are never to do such a thing! I will silence you forever!” he yelled, and then a swish and a thud sounded. Evelyn’s eyes grew wide. If they’d barged in, maybe they could’ve saved that poor worker’s life.

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