Make A Killing

Fifteen Minutes Before

Isla's point of view.

Fifteen minutes before.

    I crept [...] bedroom [...] sleeping lady. Her....

    She....

    [...] wasn't there. I exhaled [...] smile twitched at my lips. Had she guessed that I would be...? [...] more fun than I thought. After all, the sleeping lady was....

    [...] who she was or what she did.... None of that [...] if she had been innocent, I would be.... I considered waiting for her. Unfortunately, Luna and her gang of goody-two-shoes had taken....

    [...] (or perhaps you wouldn't be--are you one of us?) [...] hide in the closet [...] hear me coming. [...]

    [...]  I'm sixteen years old and a....

    Perhaps I should have made more of an effort [...]

    [...]

    Enough procrastinating. Of course they would punish me for that. I needed to just get the job over with so I could go home. I especially needed to get out of here before Luna showed up....

    [...]

    I padded into the kitchen. [...] don't have time to get out of the house. I [...] kitchen knives to defend themselves. [...] she had been in here.... A knife was missing [...] strange positions[ ...] shove them out of the way.... None of the cabinets....

My mouth twitched. [...] escaped already? [...] expecting me to come, perhaps she had left before….

Regardless, I would….

[...] She was behind me, knife raised. [...] I [...] grabbed her knife arm. [...] She cried out. Her knife clattered to the ground, and her eyes filled with fear. 

The front door opened [...], “Isla, stop!”

“Luna, stop!” [...] Luna should learn where her business is, because it sure as hell wasn’t here. ...Snooping around where she shouldn’t be. [...] Live vicariously through my life.[...] Never actually succeeds [...] anyway.

[...] Sleeping Lady’s knife and held it to her chin. [...] Couldn’t manage any words. [...] To win this fight?

Luna rammed into me, and we tumbled to the ground together. [...] in the mood for a chase today. All I wanted was to get this all over with, […], go to bed, and maybe give Luna a....

I tried to pull out of Luna’s grasp, but she latched herself onto me and refused to let go. I groaned and [...] Stalked her and interrupted all her side’s missions? [...] the bad side [...] impolite. I mean, really. It was getting ridiculous.

“What even is the point of this?” I asked her, irritated.

“...,” she said. Her hair was in two braids today; it was too thick to contain in just one. I narrowed my eyes and wondered if pulling one would loosen her iron grip. [...]

“...,” I said before yanking on one of her braids. She cried out, but her determination remained strong, and she didn’t let go. [...]

“Usually you’re ...,” she muttered disapprovingly.

Just as the words escaped her mouth, something rolled out of her jacket pocket. It was metallic, shiny, and round. [...] I tilted my head. “What’d you bring with you, Luna?”

Her eyes widened. “...!”

I didn’t understand. She let go of me finally and shoved me off of her. Then, she was sprinting out the door. She didn’t bother the close the front door. 

I tilted my head at the foreign little device in front of me. If it was something that sent Luna running, […] would probably want to see it. Anyway, it was [...] property, and therefore something immensely interesting to me. I’d bring it back to….

I reached down to scoop it up, but my fingers hesitated before touching the metal. If Luna had run from it, it was probably dangerous.

Without any more warning, the device exploded. I went flying from the blast, hit my head on the hard granite countertops, and the world darkened.