Secrets of Tempest Island

Ryder Hunts His Target

Ryder’s mind was consumed by haunting images of Josephine’s spectre, her neatly braided tresses and eyes brimming with pure hatred towards him. The rhythmic purring of the engine faded into the background as he maneuvered through the winding roads of the Scottish Highlands.

His knuckles tightened, turning as white as snow, but he couldn’t shake off the intense gaze in Josephine’s eyes, glowing like fiery embers, and her gnarled fingers extending towards his throat. Ignoring the speed limit, he pressed on, driven by his mission. The longer he procrastinated on his assignment, the more his client’s expenses escalated.

With Ryder’s solid reputation, Coby McTavish should have perished by now. Yet, here he was, relentlessly pursuing a man seemingly shielded by phantoms. The thought became unbearable, causing Ryder to unleash a primal scream that reverberated through the cramped, bright red Ford Fiesta. In a fit of rage, he raised his hand above his head and unleashed a furious onslaught of punches against the car’s roof.

In the distance, a herd of sheep lazily crossed the road. “What the hell?” Ryder exclaimed as he slammed on the brakes, the tyres screeching in protest. The cacophony of the sheep’s bahs assaulted his ears, further fuelling his fury. He swung open the car door and hurled a barrage of insults at the oblivious animals. Undeterred, the flock inched forward. Ryder placed his hand firmly on the steering wheel, leaning on the horn, its incessant blaring adding to the chaos.

“Hang on,” the sheepherder called out, trailing behind the flock. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Little did the herder know that his innocent words would seal his fate. They ignited a burning rage within Ryder. He did not understand the phrase and perceived it as an insult. The word “knickers” was f*******n in his mind, never to be uttered again.

Gripping his pistol tightly, he stealthily approached the herder, positioning the barrel against the back of his head, and pulled the trigger. The g*n made a soft “phfft” sound, followed by the herder recoiling, sinking to his knees, and collapsing forward. Ryder swiftly surveyed the surroundings, dragging the lifeless body off the road, concealing it beneath a canopy of shrubs. The sheepherder’s white beard, speckled with blood, brought a radiant smile to Ryder’s face.

“Swift justice, swift payment,” Ryder muttered, echoing his own motto, before swiftly returning to his rental car and speeding away.

The fiery orange sun was slowly descending beneath the vast horizon, casting a warm glow over the surroundings as Ryder approached the imposing heavy metal gates of Serpent’s Manor. The creaking sound of the gates echoed through the air as he came to a halt. Adopting a flawless British accent, Ryder, now disguised as a delivery driver with a cap pulled low, announced, “Delivery for Mister McTavish,” catching the attention of the approaching security guard.

With a tinge of annoyance, the security guard informed him, “Milord is out of town,” fuelling Ryder’s fury. His frustration got the better of him, causing him to snap, “When will he be back?” In his haste, he forgot to mask his accent, eliciting a stern, questioning gaze from the guard.

Realising his mistake, Ryder quickly regained his composure and replied, “Apologies, old chap. Please take your time to confirm with the staff.”

As the guard retreated towards the guardhouse, Ryder seized the opportunity to make his escape. He swiftly reversed and sped off, heading back to town.

Unbeknownst to Ryder, the security guard had no intention of calling the manor. Instead, he dialled Coby directly, sharing intricate details of the mysterious man who possessed one striking blue eye and another captivating green eye.