Nobody Sees Anything

I'm not really sure what this will be about yet, but I wrote a chapter. I may or may not end up taking it down depending on which direction this story ends up taking.

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1. Chapter One: Hold a Gun to My Head and You'll Wind Up Dead

 

Blue River is a small town, but it’s not short on arsonists and other scumbags of the sort. Larry Lucas Smith III, one of the most wanted men in Wisconsin, had set the Loft Street library on fire. Again. Usually I wouldn’t bother with the more petty of his crimes, but I happened to be in town that day after sneaking out of school to get an ice cream cone. What can I say, it was a good day for ice cream. Business was booming for the local parlor. Anyway, I digress.

“Hey Larry, did you really set the library on fire again? It’s starting to get old,” I called out to the figure trying to slip away into a small alley. Me, I was walking down the sidewalk licking my ice cream and attempting to mind my own business. Apparently, according to my younger sister, it’s something I’m terrible at.

The figure turned around. Larry was covered in dirt from head to toe and his hair was a mess like usual. His jacket poorly covered a shirt that was torn in many places and his brown eyes were filled with malice. I also observed that he could really use a shave.

“I don’t have to explain my motives to you, Alexis,” he snarled.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I stepped into the alley. It was darker and dirtier than most, but I’d seen worse. I took a bite out of my ice cream. Forget being the best in town, this ice cream was the best in the world! So smooth and creamy. Cold, but it didn’t freeze tongue. And oh so chocolatey. Mmmmm. Chocolate. It was heaven and angels and hope all rolled into one.

“This ice cream could’ve stopped Hitler in his tracks,” I thought aloud.

Larry rolled his eyes and walked over. I was too distracted by such a delicious, chocolate covered piece of absolute perfection that I didn’t notice. With one swipe of his hand, Larry knocked the ice cream cone out of my hand. It splattered brown and waffle cone all over the dark pavement. My mouth fell open into a great, big O. I looked up at Larry with a scowl. “What the hell was that for? You don’t just walk up to girl and destroy her ice cream. Forget being against the law, it’s just rude in general. Chivalry really is dead.”

Larry didn’t even give me the tiniest smirk he could muster. He just continued to give me a cold, hard look.

“I’m assuming you didn’t come here to rave about ice cream. For once in your life, Alexis, give a little bit of focus. What do you want this time?”

I glared at him. “Actually, the whole reason I left the Academy was for that lovely ice cream cone that you’ve so brutally destroyed.”

Stop being dramatic and cut to the chase.”

“Alright, fine. But you can stop being so hostile, Larry,” I agreed with a smirk.

“It’s Larry Lucas Smith III. And I have no reason to be kind to you,” he pointed out, shoving me up against the brick wall of a decrepit, old building.

“Oh come on, Larry,” I purred, running my finger along his jaw. “We were partners once. Don’t you remember?”

“How could I forget? I helped you steal the Sword of Attila from that museum in Vienna. We were going to sell it on the black market and split the profits. But then you double crossed me, disappeared with the sword, and left me to rot in that Austrian prison so far from home. How could I forget?” He responded coldly.

“How did you end up getting out of that prison?” I inquired with genuine interest.

Larry smiled. “I don’t need you knowing another good trick.”

I sighed. “That’s too bad I guess. Anyway, you told me to cut to the chase. Wanna know why I flagged you down?”

“I have a feeling that there’s no right answer to that question.”

I grinned and leaned in. Then I softly whispered into his ear, “I came to rub it in your face again that even though you’re 50+ years old and have so much criminal expertise, you were still swindled by a 15 year old girl with nothing but her smarts, a handful of paperclips, and a single square of toilet paper.”

Larry shoved me back against the wall. I hit my heads on the bricks and moaned. Blood trickled down my scalp from the back of my head.

“I should’ve shot you back in Vienna and taken the sword for myself before you could double cross me yourself,” he growled.

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed, still wincing from the pain.

Larry pulled a handgun out of his coat and pressed the cold metal of the barrel against my skull.

“There’s something you should know before you die, Alexis,” he said.

“Yeah?” I wasn’t actually paying attention to Larry anymore. With the slightest shift of my body, I managed to move my foot into just the right position to make my escape.

“I’m 36, not over 50.”

“Right,” I said scooting a little bit farther.

Larry cocked the gun. “Goodbye, Alexis. Send me a postcard from Hell.”

I hooked my foot around his and pulled. Larry lost his balance and hit the ground hard. The gun went clattering across the pavement. I scooped it up and hovered over Larry. He groaned and rolled over. When he saw the gun in my hands, his eyes went wide.

“Looks like you’ll be the one sending the postcard,” I snarled. I pulled the trigger without any hesitation. Larry wasn’t the first person I’d ever shot and I doubted he’d be the last. The gunshot echoed through the empty alley as warm blood spilled out onto the pavement. I dropped the gun and walked back out onto the street.

By the time I decided to make my way back to school, it was pouring rain. And just in case you’re wondering, I never did buy a new ice cream cone.

My name is Alexis Vane. I go to the Blue River Academy for Gifted Individuals. This is my story.

 
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