Mistress

by Corey Whitsett

Chapter One: Baptism

I moaned a few times to let this dead man know that I was still breathing down here but I donít think he really cared. All he seemed to care about was maintaining the hundred strokes per hour minute pace he was keeping up between my legs. But I had to play the role. I put a pleasured frown on my face, moaned and shifted every once in a while but it really wasnít doing anything for me. In fact I didnít even feel anything. I made sure I stayed numb, inside and out. Physically, the multiple rum and cokes along with the weed had taken care of my body making this episode tolerable at least. Mentally, I might as well have been dead. Itís been a long time since warm blood flowed through these veins and I made sure I kept it that way. I had a job to do and the last thing I needed was to feel anything. I wasnít like I was in this bed anyway. My mind was elsewhere, somewhere, anywhere but here to accept the reality of being crushed by this overweight, sweating dead man. I looked at the clock and it was half past midnight.

He turned me over on my hands and knees and got behind me to do his business. I just looked out the window at my car parked outside in the circle drive. Thatís my baby. Baby blue nineteen-seventy eight Cadillac Eldorado that I lifted from this wannabe drug dealer a couple of years ago, but now itís mine. I thought about just getting into that car one day and driving off into the sunset and leaving this life behind like they do in the movies. But that was for another day because I had already signed this contract and I was looking forward to killing this worthless piece of man that just smacked me on my ass. I looked back at him pounding away with his eyes closed and I just turned back around and shook my head. Go ahead and enjoy yourself motherfucker because this is the best and the last piece of pussy that you will ever get for the rest of your short life. I looked up at the clock again and it was only twelve-thirty-five. I felt him shaking and I jerked back and forth to help him get this over with. He grunted and grabbed my butt and before he could even collapse I was out the bed. I grabbed my black bag on the way to the bathroom.

I looked at him out the corner of my eye as he reached over to the dresser and grabbed his whiskey bottle. He blew out a long breath and wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. He took a long squib of the Jack Danielís, coughed a few times and then asked was I okay. I just shut the bathroom door without even answering him. Of course I was okay, he was the dead motherfucker. I sat down on the side of the tub and drew myself a hot bath. While the water ran I stepped out of panties that was hanging off one foot and I unsnapped my bra. I stood up and caught a glance of myself in the mirror but I quickly turned away. I made sure to keep my back to mirrors because I couldnít stand to look at my face and see what I had become. Even though I have learned to accept the fact that I am an assassin, my eyes constantly remind of what I used to be. I used to be Erin Elizabeth Monroe, a good girl, working as a legal secretary making six hundred dollars a week. Now they call me Mistress and I make my money using one of the six hundred ways I know how to kill a man. I lit a match, a jasmine candle and a cigarette, took a long drag and stepped down into the steamy water.

I looked out the window into the night and I swear I just wanted jump out and run, but I had nowhere to go. Besides, there was a serious storm coming our way. I could feel it in the air. The air was still and it seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion. I could see the clouds convening in the distance preparing to storm down onus. I could even smell the air changing as it became more humid. Yeah, something was coming all right and I wished it would take me wherever it was going.

I soaked for a little while before I started scrubbing the sweat of the dead man off of my skin but I knew that I wouldnít feel clean. See I was dirty on the inside and no one can clean that deep but the Lord. But the Lord and me got some issues right now and we havenít worked them out as of yet. And until we reconcile our little differences I will keep sending him some more fools to judge until he finally decides itís my time to go. I took my nine-millimeter out my black bag and screwed on the silencer. I couldnít wait to kill this fool. I cleaned my piece and sat it on the side of the tub.

After a few minutes of soaking in the hot water I was completely relaxed. I laid my head on the back of the tub and let out a long breath. I looked over at the gun sitting there on the side of the tub and just stared at it. What had I become? I was no longer the daughter of a Baptist preacher raised with the Bible and the belt. Neither was I the little pony-tailed girl that was always the smartest one in her class. No, I was something different now and I am not even sure what I am anymore. I was just this cold-hearted person that did not value life, not even my own. I closed my eyes and sunk deeper into the tub until the water covered my mouth.

"Daughter, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost" I said out loud mimicking my father rugged voice. I ducked down under the water and baptized myself. The hot water ran about my face and through my hair and I pretended that I was being washed clean for all my sins and all was forgiven. I came up out of the water and reached over to grab a towel off of the toilet seat. I wiped my eyes and when I opened them someone was standing at the foot of the tub pointing a gun at me. I gasped but there was nothing I can do. I looked over and my gun was not on the side of the tub where I left it. I was just happy that I had just baptized myself and was born again because I knew that it was my time to go.

"If youíre going to kill me, kill me." I said but the person wouldnít say anything. Lightning flashed and lit the bathroom for a second and I got a chance to see her face. It was her; the woman that I used to be. She was dressed in black from head to toe, with a black scarf around her face so all you could see was her eyes. I knew those eyes because those were the same eyes that look at me through mirrors. They were the eyes of the one who I used to be. She looked at me and through me at th e same time and an eerie feeling came over me. But I could not break the cold stare that we were locked into. I tried to stand up but she cocked the slide back on my 9mm. I lay back in the water and waited for her to pull the trigger.

I stared down the barrel of the gun noticing that it was shaking nervously in her hands. She looked at me and started twisting her face as if she was trying to keep from crying. She took a step forward into the light that was coming through the window. In the light I was able to see the features of her face. She had aged since the last time I saw her as if she was slowly dying. Her tears and mascara ran down her face like a black twisting river. Her eyes were crimson red and she kept blinking them as if fighting something in her mind. I donít know why she came back after all this time but she was here and for some reason she wanted to kill me. But something wouldnít let her pull the trigger. She just stood there and stared at me and without a word she kept asking why, and I had no answer for her.

Her name was Erin but I did not know her anymore. All I know about her was that her eyes were just like mine. This fragile woman standing before me died the day the very day that I was born. The same day that she lost everything in her life that had ever mattered to her. I did her a favor. I let her die because I was afraid that she would never be able to live with the grief. I couldnít imagine seeing my husband and children murdered in cold blood right in front of me. I just couldnít imagine how anyone could live with that. And that is why she had to go. I just stared at her and wondered how she bore the pain that was written all over her face. She just stared back at me the same way.

"Why are you here?" I asked. She didnít say anything but looked away out of the window as the lightning illuminated the bathroom. She walked over the window and sat down on the ledge. She sat the gun on her lap and just broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. I got out of the tub and wrapped myself with a towel and stood behind her and looked out of the window. The raindrops gently ran down the window and nestled in a small little puddle on the window ledge. The sky was a pale gray and it seemed as if the rain was just a messenger for the real storm that was coming. Something was coming.

I put my hand on her shoulder and told her that everything was going to be all right. She moved back like my touch caused her pain. I told her that I was sorry for what happened to her but I had took care of it. I told her that I killed the very men that killed her family. I told her how I made sure that they knew that they were going to die slowly and painfully. I raised my hands and showed her the blood on them. She looked away. I told her that it was all right because of the baptism. All our sins were buried in that water and that she could live again. She just sat there and stared at the gun like she didnít even hear me. She stood up and walked right through me to the other side of the room like I wasnít even standing there. I dropped my towel and turned around to see her looking in the mirror.

She looked at herself and then looked over her shoulder to see me standing there naked. She managed to smile but her weary eyes never changed. She just stared into me like she was trying to look into my soul.

"You look sad." She said as she looked at me. "What are you sad for?" Her smile went away. " I am the one who has to live with this pain all by myself. I am the one that has had to mourn what we both lost. So, why the hell are you sad?" She asked still looking at me dead in my eyes through the mirror. "You get to run around doing whatever and you donít even have the decency to talk to me sometimes."

"Erin, Iím sorry, but I didnít want to see you hurting. I love you and I will do anything to make it right." I walked towards her and she turned to me and pointed the gun at me.

"Iíll make it right" She said as she placed the silencer between my eyes. "Only one thing will make it right." She pushed me back and I fell in the tub. My head went under water and I heard a shot ring out. I sat up in the water and saw her slowly falling to her knees. She dropped the gun and looked at me and her eyes stayed locked on mine. The blood calmly ran down her face, down her chest, and down to her feet. There was a look of relief on her face as if a tremendous weight was lifted from her. Her cold bloodshot eyes continued to stare at me as her body slumped onto the floor. I tried to scream but nothing came out my lungs. I covered my face in my hands and noticed that blood was dripping from my fingers. I looked down and the tub was now overflowing with fresh, warm blood. I started to get out but something grabbed my foot and started pulling me down. I tried to hold on but it was too strong. I tried to scream but the blood was now filling up my lungs and I was drowning. Help me!

I jumped up in the tub and realized that I was just dreaming. I sat there for a few moments to catch my breath as I leaned my head back on the tub. My heart was beating as if it was trying to jump out of my chest. I looked out the window and saw that storm had passed. I looked at the remains of the jasmine candle smoking in the corner of the tub. I must have been asleep for a while. I let a long breath as I stepped out of the tub. I dried off and put on my robe and walked out of the bathroom. I walked by the dead man that was lying there in the bed sleeping quietly and grabbed his cigarettes and whiskey off of the nightstand. I sat down in the chair and cut on the television using the remote control.

I sat there and watched television until it went off and then I got in the bed and tried to push the dead man over but he wouldnít move. I kicked him several times but he wasnít budging. God, I wish I could kill this fool now but thatís not the plan. All I had to do was make it through the night. I had learned the hard way about following the plan because it could mean the difference between life and death. But still this motherfucker was getting on my nerves. I got mad and got out of the bed and snatched off the sheets.

"What the fuck!" I said out-loud as I saw the bloodstained sheets. I had thought he couldnít turn over because I had worn his out, but it was because he was dead. Someone had come in the room and sliced his throat from ear to ear. I didnít panic though. I ran into the bathroom and got out the black bag from underneath the sink. I loaded a clip in my nine and came back in the room and got dressed as fast as I could.

"Shit" I said out loud as I stumbled getting into my shoes. I fell on the side of the bed and after I hit the floor I heard the door to the bedroom open up. I held my breath and pulled back the slide on my piece. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the laser sight and clicked into place. I heard what sounded like two men walking around the room looking in drawers for something. There was only one man talking and his voice sounded familiar. I lay there breathless and I silently said a little prayer. I asked God to forgive me in advance for the blood that I may have had to spill.

"Look at this mess." I heard the familiar voice say. "Sloppy, sloppy work." I looked underneath the bed and saw his feet standing on the other side of the bed. I aimed the laser at his feet and thought about taking out both his ankles but I didnít pull the trigger. "Wait a minute." I heard him take a sniff. "You asshole come over here." I saw a second set of feet walk up beside those that I had my laser pointed too. "You smell that? There was a woman here tonight." The deep voice said.

"Aww, shit." He said nervously.

"Look, you find that bitch and kill her." The second set of feet ran out of the room. I heard the man with the familiar voice cock his gun and watched his feet walk around the bed. I took a deep breath and rolled underneath the bed. I held my breath as I heard him open the bathroom door and go in. I tried to roll to the other side of the bed but the dead man had the mattress sinking down in the middle. I pushed him up and tried to go under him but he was too heavy. I pulled my knees up and tried to push him up but I could do little to move his lifeless mass. I pulled my legs down and his full weight came down on my chest. The weight forced the air I was holding out of my lungs and I let out a long sigh.

Shit. I know he heard that and I was right. He came out of the bathroom and stood at the head of the bed. I could do nothing but lay there, hell I couldnít even breathe if I tried.

"Just canít die can you?" He asked assuming the dead man still had a few breaths. He walked to the side of the bed and pulled up his arm that was dangling over the side. I thought that he must have checking his pulse. I forced to pull up one leg and I grabbed my knife out of the sheath that I wear on my shin. I put down the gun beside me and I cut a hole through the mattress until I saw the back of the dead manís head. The man with the familiar voice dropped the dead manís hand and it fell back off of the side of the bed. I saw his feet walking towards the door. I took a tiny breath and pushed the dead man with all I had in me. The feet stopped but didnít turn around. I stuck my gun up through the hole in the mattress.

"Hey" I called out in deep voice and the man stopped and walked back over to the bed.

"You say something DeJohns? Last week you didnít have anything to say last week when we asked you for our money. Now what you got to say." He said jokingly as he cocked his gun. "I canít hear you? Here let me get closer so you can whisper it to me." I felt the extra weight on the bed and I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

Click. I felt the extra weight fall down on top of me. "Forgive me father for I have sinned." I said out loud as I always do. I rolled from under them and went and closed the bedroom door. One down one to go. I thought about jumping from the two story building and jumping into my ride and running off. I looked on the bed and saw the man lying there on top of the dead man. I walked over and rolled him over and saw his face. He was wearing some kind of headset with a built-in microphone. I didnít recognize his face but I was sure that it was the voice of the man who called me yesterday. I went through his pockets and he didnít have any kind of identification. A true professional would never carry anything that could link him to the scene. Oh, well I could never ask him what the hell was all this about because he was laying there dead with a bullet that went through the dead manís mouth right into his ear. I was standing there admiring my work when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I ducked behind the door and waited for him to walk into the room.

He opened the door and ran over to the bed when he saw his partner lying there atop of the dead man. He leaned over to the bed and put his hand on his neck to check for his pulse. He stepped back and pulled out his gun. He went into the bathroom and I darted out the door out into the hall. I ducked in a doorway, cocked my nine and waited for him to come out into the hall. I reached for my inhaler to try to relax my rapid breathing. I usually pride myself on being in total control but I wasnít right n ow. I was running on pure adrenaline, and in my business that can get you killed.

I pulled out my trip wire and secured it across the hallway, tying it to table legs. I ducked back into the doorway and assessed the situation. My target and another unknown agent was already dead and there was another agent alive that was armed. There was no way to know if there are any agents downstairs or on the outer perimeter so I have to assume that I am surrounded. I quickly put away my gun as I must be clean and quiet if I want to make it out of here alive. I pulled out my knife and held it c lose to my chest. And waited for him to leave the room. I looked out the window at the end of the hall and said a quick prayer as I heard the door opening. It would only take six steps before he hit the wire and I counted them under my breath.

One. Two. Three. Four. I ducked into position. Five. I leaned forward. Six. The footsteps stopped and I lunged to the middle of the floor and pointed the knife at his throat coming towards me. He fell on the knife and I caught his weight and gently pushed him aside. I checked his pockets for identification and he had none. That meant these guys were pros and they would never strike alone. I took his headset and put it on and flipped through all the frequencies until I found the right transmission. I heard the voices through the static confirming that the job was done. I guessed that there must be at least five or six more agents in the house. I drug this dead man number three into a room and closed the door as I came back out.

I walked to the stairs and looked down over the rail. There was another agent dressed in black on the ground floor. He was watching the stairs, pacing back and forth, carrying a semi-automatic rifle. I leaned over the rail and held my knife over his head. I pressed the button on the transmitter and he stopped and pressed the button on his headset.

"Go ahead." He said as he rested his gun at his side. I leaned forward and held the knife directly over his head.

"Up here" I said and let go off the knife. The knife fell straight down and when he raised his head I had to turn away when the knife hit him in the face. When I looked back I saw him falling to his knees and slump forward. I crept down the first flight of stairs and I laid down on the landing and looked across the living room. I heard voices on the headset but I did not see anybody. True professionals only communicate whenever there was a problem so I wasnít worried about the agents checking in with each other. I slid down the stairs and laid down on the floor and went through the pockets of the dead guy on the floor.

I reached into his pocket and grabbed some folder papers. I pulled it out and looked up and saw an agent walking towards the house. I tried to pull my knife from his face but it was buried to the handle and wasnít budging at all. I jumped up and ran and hid in the shadows down the hall. I balled up the papers and put them in my pocket. The front door opened and I heard dead man number five walking into the living room. He kneeled beside dead man number three and dropped his head. I heard him calling his team through the headsets but no one answered. He pulled out a little gadget and turned it own. I heard the machine beeping slowly and he turned in a circle. As he turned towards me I heard the beeping increase. He pulled his gun and I dove across the hall as I heard the shots fly over my head. Three Shots. I rolled against the other wall and pulled out my nine.

Two more shots buried themselves in the door jam in front of me. That was five shots now, only four left. I tried to open the door but it was locked. I fired one shot down the hall towards him and ran to the end of the hall. He fired two more shots. One of which whistled so close to my head that I felt the breeze and could smell the gunpowder. Seven shots, two to go. I ran to the wall and jumped up on it and push myself backwards through the air. I felt two shots fly under me. Eight. Nine. He was out and when I landed on my feet I aimed at the gun in his hand. I shot the gun out of his hand and it flew straight up in the air and a second shot sent it flying across the room. A third shot ripped through his kneecap sending him to the floor writhing in pain. I needed at least one to survive so that I could get some information. He fell to the floor screaming and he grabbed his knee. Heís probably wondering of heís going to walk again and the answer is no. He was soon to be dead man number five.

I walked over to him and kicked him, telling him to roll over. He turned over and looked at me like he was surprised. I guess he wasnít suspecting a woman, let alone a black woman. His haircut told me that he was military, probably a Navy grunt hired out as a mercenary. He just looked at me with disbelief as I pulled down my mask and exposed my black face as I kneeled down beside him. He reached for my gun and I drove my elbow down in his chest near his throat cutting off his air. I leaned over to put my entire weight on him and watched him struggle to breathe. Hell, I should kill him now because I know heís not going to talk.

"You got ten seconds to tell me who sent you here and I am not going to ask you twice." I said as I lifted up a little to reach into my black bag and pull out a hand grenade. I put it on his chest and started counting.

"Ten, nine, eight." I said looking at my watch.

"Fuck you, I am not telling you anything so you might as well kill me now."

"Seven, six, five." I got up and started walking towards the door. I heard him trying to get to his feet. He wasnít going to talk. I heard him pull the pin on the grenade.

"Guess what bitch you forgot to pull the fucking pin."

"Three, two, one." I pulled out my nine and turned and shot the grenade in his hand. The blast sent his flaming body parts in different directions. The falling pieces began to set the rug on fire and saving me the trouble of torching this place myself. Everything was fucked up I thought to myself as I watched the living room fill up with smoke. I had one target dead too soon and five dead mercenaries that I wasnít getting paid for. I stood there and said a little prayer and asked God to forgive me again because this wasnít really my fault. This was not the plan.


Mistress by Corey Whitsett

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.


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