The Assassin's Atonement

Chapter 1: Who I am

Ewan

There’s nothing like bringing justice to those who cannot do it for themselves that makes satisfaction course through my veins. Dalton Corleone and Bonnie Corleone are going to receive a bit of that justice tonight, and I cannot be any more delighted. I watch as the couple sits comfortably in their large mansion, feasting and rebelling while their victims fester in the bowels of their underground torture chamber. Dalton and Bonnie are sociopaths. As a couple, they work with charities under the guise of humanitarianism, but in real life, they’re monsters. They own several homeless shelters and food pantries around the country, which they use for the sole purpose of choosing a victim. They are most assuredly candidates for ironic justice.

Once they choose their prey, they offer the victim an opportunity to better their lives, take them home, then violate and torture them in their chamber of death. They are a sadistic pair who glory in human suffering. The couple begins to experiment on their victims by testing their limits of pain. Sometimes they cut off a limb and feed them their own flesh, electrocute them, or drown them after they’ve ravaged their bodies. It’s quite grotesque. It didn’t take long for the Confradia to catch on to their game. Like any wealthy blowhards, they were careless in their handling of the evidence. They assumed that if they were caught, they could buy their way out of prosecution. Well, I’m here to prove them wrong.

I’ve been surveilling them for two weeks, waiting for them to choose their victim and educating myself on their daily routine. I also hacked into their home’s security system and searched the premises until I found their private chamber of horrors. The chamber is what I imagine a fifteenth-century dungeon must have looked like. The smell of bleach permeates the air, but it doesn’t completely mask the smell of human waste and blood. I swallow hard as I inspect the room’s contents. Manacles are lining the grimy stone walls, a pool in the middle of the room filled with an unknown substance. From the color and smell, I know that it’s not water. A variety of knives adorn metal shelves near one of the walls, and there’s a battery with loose wires strapped to a wooden chair. I’m assuming that the chair is used to electrocute whoever they’re preying on.

There’s a large bed covered with plastic wrapping and several other instruments in the back of the darkened room. For days I observed the couple give special attention to a homeless man who has been coming in and out of their shelter. The man is tall and gaunt with a scruffy face, unruly hair, and a forlorn expression. He’s somewhat attractive, which is how the Corleones choose their victims. They require that their victims be attractive, young, and somewhat healthy. Once they have a potential candidate, they will have a doctor “look” him or her over. They do it under the pretext that they want to help the person get back on their feet by making them healthy and strong. Unfortunately, the people they take are so desperate that they will believe whatever the couple says and follow along. It’s like leading bloody sheep to the slaughter.

From their pattern, I know that they plan on bringing their victim here tonight. That is after they take him out to a fancy dinner and lure him into complacency. Imagine their surprise when I show up. It’s easy to wait for them outside and observe as their Bentley winds its way up the long driveway. The house is a large Victorian with elaborate chandeliers and marble floors.

As soon as they lead their victim inside the house, I follow. They don’t waste time imbibing him with spirits, which they lace with a strong sedative that helps them incapacitate their prey.

I watch from the shadows of the kitchen as the couple leads the unconscious man down the hallway until they reach their chamber. Bonnie takes the lead, pushes the semi-conscious man down the bed, and restrains him. The man’s eyes are glassy as he dazedly looks around the room. He’s completely clueless about what is going to occur.

Dalton strides towards a shelf containing various instruments of torture, then begins to sort through knives, testing their sharpness as a sinister smile adorning his lips. Bonnie doesn’t waste time undressing. Her short blond bob swaying as she removes her blood-red dress and heels. Her body is slim and boyish. For a woman in her late fifties, she’s fit and attractive. Dalton is not so fit. He’s tall and overweight with a potbelly and a receding hairline. His muddy eyes are sunken, and his skin is pallid and sickly looking.

I wait until they’re both undressed before I pounce. Dalton is about to walk towards the bed when I wrap my forearm around his neck and put him in a sleeper hold. His body instantly slumps to the ground, unconscious. Bonnie turns at the sound of his body falling and cries out in rage when she sees Dalton’s prone form. Lips pulled back, her face tightens as she rushes towards him. I don’t know what she thought when she attacked me. I’m over six feet tall, muscular, and in the prime of my life, not some emaciated homeless man desperate for life’s basic needs.

As she runs forward, I extend my taser and shoot several bolts of electricity into her chest. Her body shudders as the currents overwhelm her synapsis. I passively observe her for a moment, turn off the taser and snicker when her body stills and falls right next to her husband’s. I look at the pool in the middle of the room, wrap my hands around Dalton and Bonnie’s ankles, dragging their bodies to the pool. Bonnie’s eyes flutter widely as she tries to get control of her body, but it's impossible because I shot her with a very strong voltage. Once their bodies were close enough to the pool, I roll them inside of it. Water droplets splash around the pool’s rim as their bodies slowly drift to the center.

To my surprise, the water begins to bubble around them. I watch, fascinated as the little fish rush to the surface and begin to chew the duo’s skin. I’m not sure what kind of fish they are. They might possibly be piranhas, but I don’t know. The scene instantly becomes grotesque as Dalton and Bonnie’s faculties become sharper. Unfortunately, it’s too late, and the fish have eaten through bone and muscle. I swallow hard and take a deep breath, repulsed by the sound of their cries. I might be a killer, but I don’t take pleasure in seeing people be devoured.

Lifting my gun, I aim it and shoot them both in the head. I don’t have the stomach to watch any longer.

The piranhas instantly consume the bodies, leaving behind blood and matter. Once I’m sure the macabre duo is dead, I release the man from his bonds, carry his body out of the house, and make an anonymous call to the local police. I took the liberty of leaving videos that I found containing incriminating footage of Dalton and Bonnie’s gruesome activities. The police won’t be digging deep once they see how sick those two monsters were.

As soon as I’m finished, I go back to my vehicle and head home. I recently moved to L.A. to be closer to my brother, Logan. Like me, Logan works for the Confradia. However, Logan is the head of the West Coast operation. For years, Logan and I had a great deal of animosity toward each other. That is, until a year ago, when I saved his love, Bella. We realized during that time that our anger was misdirected. That’s when we made the decision to let go of our unreasonable antagonism. I can’t blame him, though. You see, my mother was Logan’s father’s mistress back in England. He left my mother as soon as he found out she was pregnant and returned to his family.

My mother, who was also married to another man, was unhappy with the whole situation. Especially since her husband found out about her affair and swiftly banished her from his life without a pound. My mother, and I use the term loosely, resented my existence until the day she died. She blamed me for the horrible turn her life had taken. Of course, she ignored the fact that she would have been fine if she had just used proper birth control.

Unfortunately for me, I had no other family, so Child Sevices delivered me to my father’s home. Needless to say, my father’s wife, my father, and Logan weren’t happy with the arrangement. He only accepted my presence because it would have looked immoral if he had abandoned his child. And Stuart is all about appearances.

To the world, he was responsible, but to me, he was a first-class arsehole. I was an unwanted hindrance in his life, and he reminds me of it every day. It wasn’t until I met Tamsyn that my life became tolerable. Tamsyn is my father’s driver, Alan’s daughter. For years I’d see her and her younger sister, Taryn, visit my father’s home. I was seventeen when I noticed Tamsyn and fell in love. We were happy until my father broke us apart. Tamsyn is now married to another man. As for me, I’m alone. I’ve been with other women, but Tamsyn still lingers in the back of my mind.

At first, I was part of the East Coast division, which meant I had to move to New York. However, after my reconciliation with Logan, I decided to transfer to L.A. and get to know my brother better.

Several months ago, I spoke to my former director, Jaxon, and requested that he transfer me to my brother’s division. Considering that he’s Logan’s best friend, he gladly allowed me to transfer without any quarrel. It has been a gratifying experience. I spent most of my formative years in Los Angeles. I only stayed away because this is where my heart was broken.

Once I was given permission to transfer, I bought a home. It’s a beautiful house located on a hill near a secluded area of the beach. My home is spacious with large windows and a state-of-the-art kitchen. The living area faces the beach, which gives me a breathtaking view of the ocean. In the morning, the natural light bathes the rustic wooden floors and white furnishings. My bedroom has a large en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet that holds a secret weapons room. Bella calls it my Assassin’s cave. Logan and I had a good laugh about that one. Either way, I’m quite happy with my new home.

It’s past midnight, and the only thing you can hear are the chirps of crickets and the sound of leaves fluttering around the sparse trees strewn around the grounds. I step into my living room and look out the patio doors, seeing the vast onyx darkness of the sky freckled with twinkling stars. The crash of the waves in the distance as they hit the large boulders near the shore sound like a relaxing symphony to my ears, and the neon glow of my pool creates a mesmerizingly tranquil sight.

Before I lay to rest, I drink a glass of bourbon and gaze out into the night, hoping to gain some sense of calm after the horrific events of the night. Once I’m centered, I head to my bedroom, remove all of my clothing, and drift off into a restless sleep. After years of military life and working as an Assassin, I’ve collected memories that would torture the strongest soul.

Considering how very little sleep I get, morning arrives rather quickly for me.

After I moved here, Logan invited me to run on the beach with him, Bella, and his golden retriever, Seph. It eventually became one of my favorite morning routines. Right now, Logan, Bella, and Seph are in New York visiting Jaxon, which means I will have no company this morning. It’s amusing to run with them. Especially since Bella complains the whole time. The woman hates running but does it for Logan. I have to admit that my brother is a very lucky man. Bella is quite beautiful with her long dark hair, deep brown eyes, and mouthwatering curves. She’s also extremely intelligent, witty, and sweet. I can see why my brother is taken with her.

As swiftly as I can, I slip on a pair of running shorts, slide on my sneakers, and head out to the beach. The sun’s soft rays beam down my bare chest soothingly as I sail across the sand. I’m nearly a mile down the beach when my body slams into a soft female form.

The woman cries out, startled, and grips my naked shoulders tightly as she finds her footing. My heart stutters at the sight of the beautifully long, red hair and curvy form cradled in my arms. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and inhale her heady scent of strawberries and nearly roar with pleasure. It isn’t until she faces me that I see the exquisiteness of her features. She has long dark lashes, blue eyes, auburn hair, and plump scarlet lips, with golden skin.

Something about her seems familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it. I guess it’s because I’m too enraptured by how sensual she looks in her little white bikini.

“Ewan?” The girl gasps out, my name startled. My brow furrows in confusion. She knows who I am. Yet, I’ve never met this girl before. At least, I don’t think I have. I mean, why wouldn’t I remember such a breathtaking creature?