Phoenix

The Hooded Stranger Returns

There was a ripple of indecision amongst the group—of tension sliding away, replaced by a lethargic hopelessness. The recruitment ceremony was over. Just like that, they were supposed to be leaving.

So why wasn't anyone leaving?

Suddenly, the double doors swung open and a hot breeze stirred their apprehension. All heads turned as a man in black riding leathers stepped into the room. His face was one of nightmares—thickened and twisted with scar tissue, a melted disfigurement on one side, and yet handsome on the other. Ash felt the blood drain from her extremities and she gripped the stage to steady herself. It was him. The stranger from the street. The one who'd seen everything.

The orphans tittered behind their hands, driven to nervous giggles by their disgust. The man didn't cringe from the reaction he'd caused, merely scanned their faces calmly, catching and holding each orphans attention for long enough to shame them back into silence. His mercury gaze lingered on Ash for long enough that she lost her breath, before it moved on.

"My name's Elijah Gray, owner of Antiques Trading Incorporated and I apologise for my lateness." His tone was measured. His expression gave nothing away. "I'm here to recruit one of you to our company. You will be preparing and packaging a shipment of goods offshore." He eyes swept the group and stopped on the sick sister, the only one, apart from Ash who hadn't sniggered at his appearance. "The girl with the blue hair. Your name?"

The sister lifted her head and cleared her throat. "Me?"

Elijah nodded.

"Freia." Her voice came out husky with phlegm.

"The job is yours, if you'll take it. We need someone with your small fingered dexterity to dust and polish the antiques ready for packaging."

Freia stared down at her hands, as though she couldn't quite believe what he was saying. There was an uncomfortable squirming amongst the remaining orphans, who were now regretting having tittered behind their hands. They'd thought the recruitment over.

Ash was squirming for completely different reasons. She was sure Elijah had recognised her. She was sure he was recruiting the dead boy's sister for more than just the fact that she hadn't sniggered. And she was sure that reason wouldn't bode well for her.

She waited to be exposed for what she'd done. Waited for the inevitable reveal. But as the seconds ticked on, nothing happened. Freia left her place beside the orphans and walked across the room on shaky legs to stand beside Elijah, who didn't even protest when she tottered and leaned briefly on his arm for support. The double doors opened and they walked out.

Just like that.

Ash watched them go, hardly daring to breathe until the doors closed behind them. Only then did she realise she was gripping the stage so hard her nails were making indents in the wood. Her head spun from the peak and ebb of adrenaline, finally giving way to heavy exhaustion. Somehow she'd gotten away with murder. Again. But it had to be too good to be true. Sure it couldn't be a coincidence that Elijah had recruited the sister of the boy she'd killed.