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Dirty Little Secret

A Liars Into Lessons Story

By Rhys B. CrabtreePublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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It was hilarious in a pathetic sort of way how utterly unaware humans were. How they could sit within arm's reach of a predator, of a monster, and be none the wiser to the danger that sat sizing them up for whether they'd make a tasty meal or not. And it was even more pathetic when the humans that were the predators of their fellows were unaware of the apex predator that stared them down.

Take my current prey, Franklin, for example. He's a serial rapist and suspected of killing at least one of the nearly ten women he'd raped though authorities hadn't been able to prove the murder. Not for lack of trying though but he was just so damn slippery, and rather clever loathe as I am to admit it. It was almost impressive just how good he was at out witting the police and keeping evidence from being pinned to him. But try as he might, he hadn't been able to keep Victim from being able to identify him. She had been his downfall, the catalyst that had blown the police's case on the piece of shit wide open.

Without her, Franky Boy wouldn't have gone to prison.

That moment when the cunt was so delicious you had to hit it twice. He'd forgotten the condom the second time. Idiot.

I glance down at the dossier sitting open on the table in front of me while I nonchalantly take a bite of my hashbrown. I'd been tracking this lowlife since I'd left the North Carolina mountains, waiting for him to fuck up because he was bound to. There was no good reason he was out of prison but those places were overcrowded and he'd somehow gotten himself a good enough lawyer that said sleezebag defender had found a slip up on the good guys' side and gotten Franky Boy out on a technicality.

Those pesky technicalities.

But for all that he was a "free man" (and a registered sex offender), he wasn't truly free if only because he'd caught the attention of me, a monster that made things like him look like a kid-friendly, happy-go-lucky, Saturday morning cartoon character.

I don't bother trying to keep the smile off my face. Not only would this job clear me of the owed debt to Victim, I'd get to unleash my full skills and have true fun. Sure playing with Asher and his apartment of liars and Mariah had sated some of my thirst, but it hadn't quenched it. But playing with Franky Boy?

Oh, playing with him was going to quench it. Because Victim had requested "the best you can do and then make that into a nightmare." There was a reason why I called her family. And it wasn't because her food was awesome.

With precise, calm movements I finish eating and put the dossier back in my messenger bag and prepare to leave as Franklin's number gets called and he grabs up the bag of what would be his last meal if I had any intention of letting him eat it.

I shadow him out the door and down the sidewalk, hands tucked into the pockets of my coat, pretending to feel the cold like the humans that walk along around and beside me. Not once do any of them notice me beyond a passing glance to keep from knocking into me. Not once does my target notice that he's being tailed, that there's a darkness that's gathering momentum behind him, waiting for the right moment to strike. He ruined the lives of so many people, not just those of his survivors, and I was looking forward to ruining his life. What little of it remained.

Because I may be a monster, but even us monsters have lines we won't cross. A code, if you will. And mine is you don't fuck with children and you don't rape innocents. Anything and anyone else is fair game.

A few yards ahead of me he takes a right down a side street and my smile grows, energy shifting in a way that has those that are walking nearby give me more space. For all that they may not be fully aware of the danger that's so close to them, they instinctively know to not be close enough to get caught in the crossfire.

I roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and take the same turn Franklin did.

Show time.

fantasy
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About the Creator

Rhys B. Crabtree

Originally from the Mississippi Gulf Coast (USA), I now live in the Lowcountry of South Carolina (USA) with my three cats.My larger work can be found at www.thesevenworlds.net and amazon.com/author/rhysbcrabtree

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