Sandy was waiting outside the building. Most of the time
he was leaning against the cars parked just in front, but from time to
time, he walked up and down the sidewalk, to lean onto a different car.
It took a while until people started getting out from the place.
Dripping at first, soon a full stream of people too busy to notice
anything. Sandy now leaned against the huge columns that adorned the
main entry, waiting for his prey to show up.
It didn't
took long until he saw it. A man in a suit, apparently a random guy
among the crowd. So would think the people at first. Sandy followed
him, fast, through the ever-growing crowd. He touched his shoulder, as
if asking for a question. Heh. The kid was pure theatrical gold, I tell
you. The man turned around, confused. He was not used to people
addressing him, and much less on the middle of a crowd. It was not a
polite thing to do, you know.
And then it happened. In
a split second, Sandy drew a knife and slashed his throat. Holy shit.
What a sight. The kid almost beheaded him. Blood spurted everywhere,
splashing all nearby people. They stopped in their tracks, screaming in
horror. It was pure chaos. Many people froze, unable to look away. Many
more ran in all directions, scared, thinking they could be next. And
Sandy was just there, waiting, a stupid grin in his eyes. Oh, how I like
the kid. Nobody could have done it so perfectly well.
Ten
seconds later, the guards rushed out of the building, shoving the
people aside. Sandy just lifted his hands and dropped the knife.
Fighting was not in the script. The bastards were treating him as if he
was dangerous. Little did they knew, he could have easily killed them
all. But that was not the plan. He had to let them catch him. They
harshly threw him to the ground, and then proceeded to immobilize and
handcuff him. Just a little too tight. Idiots, there would be
consequences for that.
Police came too late, so the
civilians can thank them for their response times. Poor Sandy had to wait like ten
minutes for them to show up and finally take him into custody. They were
even more brutal than the guards. I tried to guess their badge numbers,
but they were too far away. They finally shoved him into a police car
and went away. To the Central - that is, the central police station, not
our Central. Can you imagine? That would have been REALLY fun.
The
ride was completely uneventful. Sandy followed the script to the
letter. Don't say a word. Just smile and nod. Once at the station, they
shoved him into a detention cell. Alone, in semi-darkness. Good
thing he was used to both things.
A cop came to talk to him. "Jesus, kid. You have a clue on what you've done?"
Sandy
simply smiled at him. The script was to not say a word 'till his
attorney came. Or whatever. Dozens of people had seen him - there was no
way to try for a not-guilty plead. So, he knew going out on a madman's rant was
not out of the question.
The cop sighed loudly.
Exasperated. He was obviously not used to deal with our kind. "Kid, do
you know who he was? You have any clue on who you just killed?"
Sandy's
eyes were gleaming. He was too damn good at this. "Why, of course." His
smile gave me the creeps, I swear. He was THAT good.
The cop was clearly upset by Sandy's reaction. "So. You admit doing it."
Sandy
kept grinning. "Dozens of people saw me, it would be silly to try and
convince you it wasn't me, don't you think? ... Dozens of people who won't
ever forget the sight, the blood soiling their clothes. Their faces, even. You can't really forget that, you know." His eyes turned into those of a madman.
The cop's resolution, years of hardening experience, started to falter. "So, why have yo done it. You do realize..."
"Yes.
I realize the consequences of my acts. I'm by no means above the law...
Am I?" Sandy raised his head slightly. Just enough for the soft light
to fully hit his face.
And then the cop seemed to
realize something. He noticed the still open wound on Sandy's cheek. A
crudely carved x. The mark. Of the madmen. Of the people who would do
anything they were told to. The most dangerous of the mob families. Or
so they said. The very same wound that I had carved there not even two
days before. The cop left in a hurry. Consequences indeed. He realized
this was way above his pay.
And Sandy was left alone again.
