[SP] every time you kill someone, their fatal wound shows up as a scar on your body
*****
“D-do you know Sandra? Sandra Seance, the fortune teller?”
I froze and regretted it immediately. Someone as crafty as Felocoty was sure to pick up on things as subtle as this, and she was watching me intently. I tried to salvage the situation immediately as the cogs in my brain turned.
"Isn't that...the lady on the news this morning? The one who was stabbed in the chest?"
Her eyebrows raised at what I said, but she nodded. "Year, that's the one."
I placed my arms on her shoulders, but she shivered and shrugged my hands off, getting up and picking her bra. "Sorry, I don't think I want to continue with this anymore. You'll get your refund, don't worry. Even though that won't even mean anything to you now, will it?
I didn't understand what she was saying. but I knew that something wasn't right. "Why did you suddenly decide to stop? You looked at my tattoo and suddenly decided you weren't going ahead? You became so cold too, and what's with all this talk about Cassandra?"
She laughed. "You really are a sloppy noob, aren't you? So you rob and kill a woman and then use the money you got from her to buy drunks and pa for private shows? Isn't that pathetic and disgusting?"
I was shocked now. "Killed? Me? How?"
"You really think I believed that story about that scar being a tattoo? I might be a stripper, but I'm not dumb. What I don't understand is how a fresh scar like that came about when the woman was killed just yesterday. And how did you know that she was stabbed in the chest, or that her name was Cassandra? The news didn't reveal this, the only people that know this are the police and two other women - I and my friend, who discovered the body!"
I was sweating. She was right, this was a rather sloppy act. I had never been this careless during my operations, and I didn't know why I chose to stay in the city one more night after the successful mission. Worse still, the curse and the events which continued after killing Sandra had messed with my head.
"I d-don't know what you're talking about."'"That stutter is enough to confirm what my speculations are. You're a finished man, whatever your name is. I'm reporting this to the police."
She left, and I knew at that moment that I had to kill her. I left the room and the club using the back door, but I knew that I couldn't approach her in person, someone was sure to be following her. My ski mask was on now because there were security cameras here. Who had she talked to? How many people had seen me? How much information would they be able to draw out from eyewitness accounts and the footage?
The police would swing into action in this case. I knew I could trust them to do that. I had to take care of them both, and fast/ I opened my car and took out the sniper rifle inside the faux guitar case before crossing the road. The building opposite the club was a one-story building, and the place on top was a library.
How ironic.
I broke into the library and went to the window, setting up the rifle and waiting for Felicity. I knew she was going to leave anytime soon because even though she was smart enough to catch me, she was definitely afraid. She just had a close brush with a cold-blooded murderer, and she was going to be in a hurry to report this to the police.
It was only logical that I would try to kill her.
As she came out, a bouncer by her side, I smiled as I reflected on her mistake. She did not realize that I was far more than just a common robber who killed people. I was an assassin as well.
I was about to go for the head, then I remembered something, The stabbing of Sandra Seance left a scar on my body in the same place. If I gave them headshots, the scars would be visible on my forehead for all to see. How would I explain that? It would become even more suspicious.
Settling for their chests, I shot Felicity twice in the heart area, before turning to the surprised bouncer and shooting him twice in the same area just before he could turn and run back inside. The gun was silenced, but I didn't have any time to waste. They were going to be discovered anytime soon, so I quickly jumped down, ran into my car, and zoomed off.
I decided to leave town the very next morning. But I first headed for the hotel, packing up all my stuff (which could fit in a bag) leaving silently. I paid for everything using a stolen credit card, and I had made my preparations, but only time would tell how much my mistake at the Club Noir would cost me.
I knew that a lot of information would be in the media at least by tomorrow night, including my face, which was not a huge worry, since I had a lot of make-up and prosthetics on. But what else could dey use to track me?
*****
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