= a wattpad featured story (14102017) =
After she was kidnapped to a foreign land, Devora Evans found herself rescued by a questionable team claiming to be spies working for the government. However, she soon found out that the term "spies" was much...
Candice Clair had always been deemed as horrible, cruel, cold, and vile. However, the simple man that came in the form of Dallas Rokos had always been her soft spot. He had been her partner in crime, her closest confidant, and her best friend for many years. One of the reasons why she had always strived to be the best was to make sure she could protect him.
The times she had left him behind on missions were more than what meets the eye. She had always said she had done so to escape, to save her own skin and make sure she herself made it out alive. However, beneath the surface level where a naked eye could see, Candice always went ahead to distract their enemies and ensure a safe route for Dallas to escape. If she had truly intended to leave, Dallas wouldn't have lived so long.
They had both been recruited young and Candice grew up ever since then knowing the jokester. Life, however, continued to play them both like fools. They waltzed the rounds of a carousel continuously, never seeming to come to a stop. It was an eternal dance, circling one another like the push and pull of tides, never ceasing.
That was how Candice and Dallas functioned. They were two sides of the same coin, yin and yang. For Dallas to shine in the light, Candice retreated to the shadows. She had never been open about what she had done for him because there was never a need to. If she had said it, it meant that she would've been doing it to seek something back when that wasn't the reason at all.
What Candice had just done, however, might just be the tipping point of the iceberg, the last drop of liquid added to allow the water in the cup to overflow.
Like all things, that dance must come to an end.
She ran as fast as the wind could carry her, never bothering about the splintering pain from her injuries sustained when escaping the exploding building nor the burning ache of her muscles. All the while, Candice didn't stop once to turn back. She had just betrayed her best friend. She didn't have the face to stay and look at him die.
In no way did Candice allow her guilt to show. Just like an ordinary girl, she could feel the burn of tears threatening to brim her eyes. Yet, Candice was never brought up as a typical normal girl. She had been trained, drilled, and molded into the perfect killing machine.
Killing machines simply didn't cry. They couldn't. They mustn't.
When Candice finally turned the corner and weaseled her way into the safe house, she allowed herself a second to pause. By now, her breath was already slightly haggard, her breathing causing her heart to work twice as hard to pump blood through her body. She leaned against the cold concrete floor and metal wall. It wasn't really the run that had tired her out but rather the flood of emotions.
Vengeance still bled as clear as the bright dawn, fueling Candice with just enough energy to shrug her weaknesses away and stand back up on her feet again. She wiped her tears that finally broke free, inhaling deeply to calm herself before pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. Cracking her knuckles, she prepared herself once more.
Whatever fragility that was left within her couldn't show itself now. Candice had finally arrived nearer and nearer towards her revenge, the prize practically shining in her face, just slightly out of reach. She wanted to reach for it, to finally achieve what she had been after for so long. That meant that she wasn't going to stop until Julius Cain was lying beneath the sole of her boot, eyes glazed over and staring straight at the ceiling. The last sight he'll see would be one of his best agents putting a bullet through his skull.
That thought alone was enough to get Candice walking again, gun in hand and knife in the other.
Revenge had always been the best driving force for her, especially for a cold-hearted and vicious girl that never knew what love and mercy were.
"Hey, what are you doing here, Clair?" A man asked just as Candice curved a corner, his gun raised though rather not threateningly. It was obvious, he knew who Candice was and that she was supposed to be on his side. He wouldn't see his own death coming even if it hit him in the face.
The blonde wasted no time. She reached into her pocket to withdraw a simple switchblade, tossing it expertly. It sliced through the air for a split second, the whipping wind barely even fighting against it before it was lodged into the man's throat.
He made a gurgling sound, hands immediately dropping the firearms he once held and reached for the wound. Before he could yank it out, however, Candice made her way over, using the heel of her boot to push the man against the walls of the structure.
No one else besides the team was supposed to be here, not in her path at least. It was a simple misfortune for the man to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. His cold eyes stared at Candice helplessly as she watched the very life disappear from his irises. In all of her life, Candice had killed more people than she could count. However, this was the very first man in which she had stayed and watched die.
She watched as he breathed his last, his shoulders slumping before his entire body collapsed to the ground with a thud. For a second there, Candice let out a small breath. It was not for relief but rather an emotion in which she could not explain as it was something she was unfamiliar with.
Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was remorse.
Nevertheless, that didn't stop her.
Shaking those thoughts away, she reached down to pull the blade out of the man's throat, wiping the blood off on his clothing before tucking it back into her pocket. Just like that, she was making her way down the corridor again, the unknown dead man no longer in her mind.
When a heavy metal door emerged into her vision, Candice exhaled loudly, her eyebrows deepening into a concentrated frown before she turned to the lock pad just beside the door. Pressing the numbers in which she knew was guaranteed access based on her group meetings prior to this, she waited rather impatiently for access to be granted. Once it was, she followed through the next few security protocols before the door finally unlocked.
She pulled it open, weapons at the ready and, hopefully, her victim caught completely unaware.
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