Villain Diary Part Two

DO YOU DARE READ THE DIARY OF A VILLAIN?*

WELCOME BACK!
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 26)

I don’t think I slept much. I had so many thoughts running through my head. I sat there waiting in the distance and there he came as usual. So I made my way to the coffee shop. I opened the door and there he was. Sitting at the same table he always sat at, black briefcase by his side, suit neatly pressed, hair in that undone look and the way he held his coffee with one hand and his newspaper with the other. So young yet such an old soul. I began to laugh inside. I walked by and sat at the table across from him. He looked up and smiled. I smiled back. Then he got up, my heart began to race. Did he recognize me? Then he grabbed his briefcase, threw down a tip and walked towards the door. My heart sank. He glanced back at me and I looked into his eyes. I could tell something was there but he slowly made his way to his car. I followed him as he went to the station. He went his usual route. Took lunch at the same time, sat out on the picnic table. He seemed himself but yet how could he be so different? Why does it seem the only thing he’s forgotten is me? So I went to my favorite spot deep in the woods. It’s where I like to think. I found it after my father died and it gives me a place where the world stops for a moment. I laid there with the earth beneath my body and watched the day turn to night, night turn to blackened skies and thought about what to do. If he doesn’t remember maybe I am better off letting him go. It could be better for us both. I won’t get sucked into emotions. So I have made up my mind. Seems my dear diary we are back to square one. Cat and mouse, enemy of some sorts. Relationships are for the weak of which I am not. So let the games begin! It’s back to business as usual. (she grins)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 27)

“I didn’t realize how much I missed the single life until I met you.” That’s what I told him before I slit his throat and not one chip of the polish. (she looks at her nails and smiles) He was fun for a while but rather boring. These rich CEO’s really need to get a personality. I do adore this bracelet tho. (she looks at her wrist) Oh and the ring and necklace, the car was a nice bonus. A sweet black Tesla Model S P85. What a rush that beauty is! A car that has insane mode is just perfect for me. Too bad he won’t be needed it anymore. Terrible, just terrible. (she smirks) I cleaned out his bank accounts, off shore accounts and it seems he had been taking a little extra off the top for himself. I think of it as I saved him some jail time for embezzlement. (she laughs) My debt to society is paid! Do I ever get a thank you? (she laughs again) A girls work is never done and underappreciated when it is. I also checked the newspaper today and it seems the detective has been rather busy. I have decided to stay out of his path for now. That was a fun ride, kind of like the Tesla, but all good things must come to an end. Besides I’m not the relationship type. Never will be. (she grabs her gun and puts it in her holster and her knife in the other) Time to see what life has in store for me next. (she grabs the key to the Tesla) and time to see what this baby can really do. I’m going on a little road trip. Keep my secrets safe my diary, till I return.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 28)

It’s been a while since I’ve had any contact with anyone, even you my dear diary, but I needed to spend some time away from here. The road trip was great, just what I needed. I caused a little trouble along the way but a girl has to have some fun. (she grins) I went back to the old town I grew up in, back when both my parents were still alive. The house was covered up in vines and overgrown trees and shrubs that it could not be seen by the naked eye. I knew where it was like I was just there yesterday. I will never forget. It’s well hidden from the world just like my father wanted it, to protect us and to keep our secret. I cut away at them until I could make a pathway to the inside. I hadn’t been there in many years. I could have stayed there after he was gone but it was time to move on. I had to find my own way, my own place. My father never took my step mother there. He said this place was our home. She never even knew it existed. He said he had to learn to trust but that was one thing he would never trust anyone with. Trust. Where did that get him? With a women who betrayed him. He is buried out in the fields with my mother, my birth mother. My step mother, well I imagine someone found her body a long time ago and she’s buried somewhere. I really don’t care. After she killed my father and I took her life in return, I brought him there. I brought him home. So I had time to think, to go through old photos and to practice some tactics me and my father use to do in the woods. Then I knew it was time to come back. I was able to put things back into perspective. My life is one that most can’t and won’t understand. I can not live like the rest of them. I will not trust anyone. I will live my life on my terms. I will always be grateful to the detective but that is the past. I will be me… The Villain. (she thrusts her knife into the table and walks away)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 29)

It’s 2 karats and flawless. Beautiful! (she stops to look at the ring again) Not a bad couple day’s pay. He was handsome but not too smart. It was like taking candy from a baby. (she smiles) How easily they fall in love. This may have broken my own record. I cleaned all his accounts, took what I wanted from his home and they’ll never find the body. Maybe I should have kept him around for a while longer. No I won’t go down that road again. I must say I am loving his car. (she grabs the keys next to her on the table and dangles them) and I do look good in a Porsche. He had great taste. Then yet, he did fall for me. (she grins) It looks great next to the Tesla. (she tosses the keys next to the other ones) A girl gets bored of her toys just like the boys. I also got a new phone and number, got rid of my fake apartment and I haven’t been to the coffee shop in months. So things are back to normal. Well as normal as they’re ever going to be. (she grins) I have another busy night. I’m running low on ammo. I will use the good old detectives key card this time. It’s been collecting dust. What a shame. (she shakes her head) It’s been fun with the random rich men these past few months but time to stir it up a little. Hope the detective is ready for me. (she smiles) Him not remembering me may not be so bad after all. (she taps her fingers on the table) Let the new games begin! (she puts her gun into the holster and grabs her knife) Till next time my dear diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 30)

It was like I had just been there yesterday. They still only have a few guys on duty and they were gone in a heart beat. Just like that (she snaps her fingers) the room was cleared. Seems they got too comfortable while I was away, mistake number one, and they didn’t think to upgrade the security system? Amateurs. No challenge for me in that. A girl needs to keep her skills up. Then there was the detective’s desk, all neat and tidy. (she starts to laugh) He is such a neat freak. His house was like a museum and everything had its place. I still remember how cold it felt. How lonely. How much like… (she stopped) He is a complicated man. I think there’s much more to learn about him. Then something strange happened. In his desk drawer there was a single red rose. Just like the one he gave to me so long ago. What an odd thing for a detective to have in his desk. Or was it? Did he somehow know I would be there? Was it for me or was it for someone else? Never mind that. (her mood suddenly changed to darkness) Then I suddenly had a bad feeling and just as I was about to leave a hand reached out and grabbed my arm. I turned a quick maneuver to break the hold and there he was… the Military Man! Then he said “Your time is up”. I grabbed my gun quick and simply said “Like hell it is!” and I fired. It was all so quick. He had on a bullet proof vest but didn’t expect my altered bullets. Penetrates his so called vest. As he fell to the ground with a shocked look on his face, blood pouring from his chest, I stood over him and said “Tick Tock”. Then I left. The station alarms were blaring and I had spent far too long there already and I knew the detective would be showing up like the good soldier boy he is. There’s no way the Military Man could of survived that many rounds. (she stops to think) Or could he? (she stops writing, quickly gets up, grabs her knife and gun and leaves)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 31)

I went back to the station but watched from afar. So many people there from the media to nosey people which the police kept back. The detective was there. He looked like his mind was going into that place I’ve seen before. When he gets into his work you can almost see his thoughts. I watched them bring every body out one by one even though they were covered with the familiar white cloth I knew how many there should be and it was one short. The Military Man must have gotten away. (she stabs her knife into the table) How clever and bravo! (she stops writing to clap sarcastically) I don’t see how he could have gotten very far. Unless his vest wasn’t the usual standard material. Is it possible he could have altered his as I have with my bullets? (she looks deep in thought) If he did I still got some shots in. I saw the blood. I saw the shocked look in his eyes. He is good I will give him that. I knew he wasn’t your average soldier. Then yet, neither is the detective. Two kindred souls. I think I will make my way to the detectives house tomorrow. In stealth mode of coarse. Something tells me he remembers. (she looks over at the rose she took from his desk) I don’t know why I never checked his cell records again. I gave up after a couple of months. (she stops to go online to hack into his cell phone) 125 attempts to my old cell number. (she taps her fingers on the table) He must remember. What do I do now? How much does he know about me? Does he know who I really am or does he just remember who he thinks I am? Do I dare attempt to see him? I need answers. Forget tomorrow I’m heading to the detectives house tonight. It’s time I know whatever it is he knows. (she looks over at her gun) Then I will do whatever is needed to keep my secrets safe. Sleep well my diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 32)

I think I stood outside for hours just watching. He was in the same chair by the window he always sat in when he was thinking. Finally I got the courage to go to the door. Why was I so afraid? I’m never afraid of anything. This was something I wasn’t sure how to handle and that never happens to me. Then before I could even knock he opened the door. There he was and we stood for what felt like hours just staring at each other. We spoke without saying a word. Then suddenly he pulled me in and put my hands up against the wall. I tried to fight back but he grabbed my gun and threw it across the floor. So I reached for my cuffs and we struggled for a bit but I managed to get one of his hands but he quickly put the other on me. He pushed me up against the wall and with his one free hand he wrapped it around my throat and then kissed me. Oh how I missed the roughness. (she smirked) The rest of the night we made up for lost time. (she rubs her wrists) It was like nothing had ever happened. He never spoke a word about that day at the station or asked me any questions and I didn’t either. Is the past best left unspoken? My father once told me some things are better left unsaid. I never understood that because I am the type that has to know. I leave no stone unturned to get my answers but there we were, two people who hadn’t seen each other in almost 7 months, had questions I’m sure we both needed answers to, and no one spoke a word about it. I think sometimes you have to accept things as they are and keep the truth hidden, even from yourself, to protect everyone involved. Sometimes things are better left unsaid. Some things are better left unknown. Some secrets are better left buried. (she stops writing for a moment and looks deep in thought) I have a date with a detective. (she smiles) Till next time my Diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 33)

It’s 5 karats and stunning! (she places the ring back into the jewelry bag) Too bad the poor sucker didn’t see that coming. How sad, he was going to propose to her tonight. Oh well guess he shouldn’t have been meeting me then, should he? (she looks in his wallet at a picture of him and his girlfriend then tosses it in the trash) The things these rich men do. They are never happy. Well now he can see what his yacht looks like from underneath! (she grins and pictures him floating to the bottom of the ocean) Tick tock! His time was up! It feels really good to be back in the game. Oh I know you must be thinking what about the detective. Details, details. Well I have solved that problem and have gone outside his jurisdiction. Saves him and me the trouble of having to choose a side. He can catch the bad guys and me, well, I am the bad guy. (she smiles) I do however have to make a run to the military base. A girl sure goes through a lot of ammo. Who knows, (she taps her fingers on the table) maybe the Military Man will show up. He has been a thorn in my side for over a year now. Literally. (she looks down at her bullet scars) I hope to return the favor one day with my trusty blade. (she grabs her knife from her leg holster and begins to talk out loud) “We have been through a lot my beauty” (she runs her finger across the blade and a drop of blood runs from her finger) “Just as sharp as ever” (she sucks the blood from her finger and resumes writing) He can’t hide forever. It’s just a matter of time before we meet again. I’d like to know what his obession is. Why is he so hell bent on capturing me? Men. As smart as I am I still can’t figure some of them out. (she looks deep in thought) Till then my worthy opponent your clock ticks. “Tick Tock Tick Tock will you live another day or not, cross my path and you will see, just the way it’s meant to be.” Sweet dreams my Dear Diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 34)

Fall is my favorite time of year. I remember my father use to take me apple picking. We’d sneak into the orchard after everyone left and that old grumpy farmer would go back to his farm house and settle in for the night. His watch dog may have been older then he was. (she laughs) We’d gather up the best ones since no one else could climb to the tops of the trees like we could. Then we’d sit on the highest branch and look at the stars. He’d teach me the constellations and always tell me how to find my way home by them. He could see beyond the stars. He was starting to teach me but then… (she’s remembering the night her step mother killed her father) (she thrusts her knife into the table) Never mind. Anyways, (she quickly pushes that memory out of her mind) I have self taught myself. I also had the help of some books I found from my father. One in particular. It seems he kept a diary of his own. I didn’t have any thoughts in them just things he knew or encountered that day. There was no mention of me or my mother or even… (she pushes the thought of her step mother out of her head again) It was like he was leaving a book behind. A message. I have studied it many times over but it’s the last page that gets to me. It seems he started to write something but never got to finish it. That bitch must of got to him first! (she’s getting very angry now but quickly calms down) It’s almost like he was trying to tell me something. But what? (she hears a loud crash in the distance and quickly pulls the knife out of the table) That sounded too close for comfort. I’m going to go check it out. Till next time my dairy. (she grabs her gear and heads out)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 35)

Darkness fell swiftly and I could barely see what was ahead. The smoke filled the now blackened skies. My senses told me there was someone up ahead. As I made my way through the thick forest there he stood. I was eye to eye with him… the Military Man. The flames were high behind him and as the car was about to explode he grabbed me and pulled me to the ground and covered me with his body. All I could feel was the heat and could barely breathe. Once I caught my breathe I pushed him off me. I grabbed my knife and as I swung my arm he blocked my hit. So I reached for my gun but he held my arm and pushed me up against a tree. Then he just starred at me. (she begins to smirk) So I kneed the bastard and with a few good head shots, (she looks at her bruised red knuckles) he let go of his grip and I knocked him to the ground. I stood over him and just as I was about to pull the trigger there was a second explosion. He once again grabbed me and pulled me down. Now the air was even thicker and I couldn’t see at all. Then there were sirens. They were getting closer. I knew I had to go but I kept my grip on him but he slipped away… just like that. (she snaps her fingers then plunges her knife into the table) I quickly got up and went in an opposite direction and made my way to a little spot outside the coffee house. I couldn’t take a chance on him following me. There is a hill with a tree so tall I can climb and see the whole town. So I watched them put out the fire. The detective was there. I am linked to his cell phone so I heard the call. (she smiles) My detective, the good little soldier always on call. So I kept watch to make sure the Military Man didn’t come back… and I may of hit the new jewerly store that just opened up the street. What a poor security system they have. (she grins and looks over at her duffle bag filled with jewels) Ok my dear diary I have to get cleaned up and get this blood off my hands. This has been a long night and I still have a piece of fabric to test. (she pulls out a small piece of the Military Mans uniform) Let’s see what this is really made of. Till next time diary, sleep well.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 36)

I can’t get the blood off my new gloves. (she stops to look at them again then throws them in the trash) and the bastard made me break a nail. (she looks annoyed) That was a little too close to home for my liking. How the hell does he just escape like that? That’s the kind of stuff I do. (she is deep in thought thinking about the encounter again) So the Military Man is alive, that we know, sadly. (she sighs) I hacked into the detectives account and found where they towed what was left of his car and went back after dark to see what was left of it. He stripped it clean. Seems it was stolen. So he crashed it, but why? To see which direction I would come from or if I would come at all? Or maybe he was even after the detective. (she starts to tap her fingers on the table) Clever, but not as clever as I was because I took that precaution and went around and came in from a different side. I had him in my grasps for a few seconds. (she clenches her fist) The material on his uniform, I never seen anything like it. Good thing I managed to get some of it. (she reaches over to look at the small black piece of fabric) Durable, fire resistant, appears to be able to float on water, slippery enough to escape my grasp. (she looks annoyed again) He’s lucky the police were just about there or he wouldn’t be. (she thrusts her knife into the table) This material is good. Not as good as what I have, but good. I must think about this more. He has turned into quite the challenge. I don’t think I’m dealing with your average human. I haven’t seen any others of my kind in years. My father use to say the biggest threats were the ones that hold the same powers as we do. He did say most weren’t like us and didn’t know how to harness or control them. Most were careless and were killed due to their overly cocky attitudes. An attitude like the Military Man. That’s his weakness. But the mind works in wondrous ways. Telling us what we need to know when the time is right. It’s like intricate details unfolding in the subconscious. I will sleep on this one and try to unravel this mystery. (she looks at the time) I must go. I have a date with the detective in the morning at the coffee shop. Seems he got a new key card. (she smirks) Till next time. Sleep well my diary
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 37

No one judges us but ourselves. We have no one to prove anything to. We live within our own minds and are the only ones who we should answer to. To live with our own consequences we punish ourselves more then any outside source can. Society puts their labels on people and rules but they don’t play by them. How they stand there and preach their ways. (she laughs) A world full of people who cower to the higher ups who are no more flesh and bones then we are. Why do mere humans find the need to be controlled yet cry when they are? They are selective with what they fight for and they are their own downfall. I do not bow down to anyone. I do not take orders. I do not accept the label they want to give me. (she glances over at the newspaper) I have made the news once again. Appears they want to catch me. Imagine that? (she grins) “Second millionaire tycoon found in a week. Authorities are on high alert. Rash of break ins, blah blah blah.” (she tosses the paper) They all got what was coming to them. Little rich boys that never got their hands dirty. I found trails of embezzlement, back pocketing politicians, lies, stealing, not a faithful bone in their bodies. They are the scum that the world doesn’t need. Then yet I am called a murderer, a criminal? That is such a low form of labeling. I rather don’t like that. (she thinks for a moment) Who writes this crap. (she picks up the paper again to see) Hmm seems this fellow needs to be paid a visit. I will make sure his death is nice and slow. (she gets that look in her eyes) Call me a common criminal, a thief? We’ll see about that. (she grabs her knife and puts it in her thigh holster) I prefer to be called… a Villain. That’s so much classier. (she grins) Time and time again I have to teach them a lesson. This time I will teach them all. Let’s see what they do when the innocent fall. When a neighborhood is wiped out. When half the town burns down. (she laughs) First things first. (she glances over at the newspaper again) Tick Tock, your time is up! Till next time my Dear Diary. I have work to do.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 38)

So many flames, so much destruction. I can still hear the screaming in my head. Ah the sound of terror. Music to my ears. (she smiles) That fellow from the newspaper, what’s his name, he won’t be writing anymore articles about me. (she gets that look in her eyes) He begged me not to hurt him. They all do. I tune it out. I mean seriously? Are these not men? Some advice to them, don’t beg me for your life, it just pisses me off more. (she throws her knife into the wall) What’s this? (she glances over to a duplicate phone of the detective she has to monitor his calls) A text? “Meet me tomorrow at the coffee shop?” (she waits to see if he replies) “I’ll be there. Looking forward to it.” (she tosses the phone) I don’t recognize this one. I’ll be back diary. I have a number to trace. (she leaves the room and returns a little while later holding some paperwork and a photo) So the detective is meeting a women. (she starts to tap her fingers on the table) Rather a plain Jane. (she glances over at the photo) Not much background information on her. Seems she’s a law abiding citizen. (she laughs) Question is, who is she and is this business or pleasure? For the detectives sake better be business. I don’t take well to two timers. We all know what happens to them. (she put her hand on her gun, grips it tight then lets go) I let him live this long and maybe that was a mistake. (she stops writing to think) I won’t jump to conclusions. I don’t know her, but I will. I’ll just have to be there at this little meeting. They won’t see me but I sure as hell will see them. Could someone’s time be up? (she gets that look back in her eyes) Sleep well my diary. I have a detective to put to the test. (she grabs her knife out of the wall and heads out)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 39)

No no no… how could I of been so wrong? (she slams her fist on the table) I made a huge mistake and I can’t fix this one. If the detective ever found he would never forgive me. It all started at the coffee shop. He met with that women. They hugged and sat down. The whole time he held her hand and they talked. It was very intimate. So it seemed. I did my homework on her. I checked out her family. It all seemed to add up. There was nothing to raise any red flags or make me doubt the information I had found. Then before he left he hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. I knew at that moment he was just like the rest. So I followed her back to a hotel. She seemed very cautious of her surroundings. So I waited and when night fell I made my move. I was so angry that I didn’t even ask her any questions. I just snapped her neck. When she fell to the ground I carved out her heart because that’s what I felt like. Like my heart had been ripped out. How could I be so naive? He seemed so different. So much like… me. Then I was going to go to his house next but I waited. Almost like I was mourning him before he was even gone. So I went to my usual spot where I go to think and get away. I just sat there in the dark for days. Finally I was ready to do what I knew I had to, but when I got there something seemed off. There was an already dark vibe but it was a vibe of sorrow. Then I looked in the window and there he was, sobbing on the floor, surrounded by pictures, pictures of her. As I looked closer there were other pictures, pictures of her as a child and she was with a little boy, and then he held one of the pictures close up to his chest and I heard him say something out loud as if talking to it. He blamed himself for not protecting her… for not protecting… (her eyes have a blank stare) …his sister. (she pauses and shakes her head) I didn’t know. There was no way I could of. There was no connection between the two. None! He can never find out it was me. Never! (she stops writing, stabs her knife into the table, and walks away)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 40)

He asked me to go to the funeral with him. I have never been to a formal one. We always buried our own with no one around. Me and my father buried my mother and for my father it was just me. Here there were rows of officers paying their respects. There was a church. I have never stepped foot in one. The room was filled with sorrow. Some real, some fake. I can sense the ones who would rather not be there. I looked for his family. They came in from the back way. I thought that was suspicious so I did a little pick pocketing. The names matched the names of the information I found on his sister but why the detective was not linked to them I had to find out. So after the funeral I did a little more digging around. It’s almost like some of his past had been wiped out and one was cleverly made up. I always knew he had secrets. I had just stopped looking. After he saved my life that day I was ok with not knowing. I was about to let this go as well. It doesn’t make sense. I checked the detective out thoroughly. Some of this is different now. (she looks over the paperwork again) Should I even care or feel bad? I do in some ways but not in others. I am mad that I was fooled by false information. I am better then that, smarter then that. Who ever did this was good. Almost too good. (she stops writing to think, then she gets a cold look in her eyes) Damn it!! I know who’s behind this! (she stabs her knife into the table) Has to be the Military Man! (she taps her fingers on the table) Clever. I will hunt him down and tear him apart bit by bit. I will make him suffer a long cruel death. I will make him confess to this. Make him feel vulnerable. Use the detective to get to me again? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. I will trace back this so called ghost IP address. He may be good online but there is always a back door. He just made his first big mistake. I will find it and when I do… tick tock, his time is up! Sweet dreams my diary. I have a lot of work to do and a location to find. This will lead me right to him, or to a trap. Either way I’ll be ready. (she smirks) I just love a good challenge. (she walks away talking out loud… “tick tock, tick tock, will you live another day or not? Cross my path and you will see, just the way it’s meant to be…”)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 41)

I woke up feeling groggy. Where was I? Not back at the same hospital as before? Then I looked over and I seen something familiar. I tried to focus my eyes. It was a painting. I have seen this but where? Then I feel a warm touch on my arm and I felt comfortable, like I was ok. Then I blacked out again. I think I slept another few hours if not days it felt like. When I finally woke up I knew where I was. It was the detective’s house. He rushed over and called the nurses. They were trying to take my blood pressure and shine a light in my eyes but I pushed them all away and tried to get up. So he told them all to leave and grabbed me before I hit the floor. I didn’t understand why was I there? My head hurt and I tried to think. Then he told me there was an explosion at the coffee shop and I was knocked unconscious. I asked him when. He said three weeks ago. I thought that was impossible. Then he explained it all. He had gotten a text to meet the chief’s wife. They where planning a surprise birthday party for him. Only his car broke down on the way so he was late. He took a taxi and as he was pulling up he seen me sitting on the bench outside and then the explosion happened. Seems the chief had an enemy. A guy he put away for life had escaped from prison that day. He followed his wife to the coffee shop. He set the explosive. The doctors told him I wouldn’t make it so he took me home. He called in specialists from all over the world and well, here I am. I told him I remembered things. Things that seemed so real and in so much detail. (she stops to think) He said that was normal for the type of coma I was in. So once again my detective saved me, saved the bad guy. (she smirks and clutches her ribs that are still sore) So my dairy I did not kill his sister, he doesn’t even have one and there was no web hacking to trace the Military Man back to. That’s the only down side. I should of known he wasn’t that smart. (she grins) It was all a dream. One hell of a long damn dream. (she sighs a sigh of relief) I knew I would never have done something like that. I am way too smart and would have known I was being tricked. I don’t know how the mere humans do it. Deal with imperfections. I almost doubted myself. Never again. (she grabs her knife and puts it in her thigh holster) Time to change these bandages. I’m sure there’s another millionaire tycoon whose time is up! After all, a girl needs the finer things in life. (she touches the diamond necklace she’s wearing) Hope the detective can keep up. Oh it’s so good to be back! (she smiles) Sweet dreams diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 42)

I must admit I had a rather fun night. (she smiles) The stars were out. The sea was calm. The champagne was bubbly. The food was to die for. (she gets that dark look in her eyes) Too bad he had to as well. Don’t men know to never trust strangers? (she laughs) Red lipstick and black stilettos get them every time. (she kicks her shoes off) This one I met at an upscale bar downtown. I had been tracking him for a while. Trust fund baby, never really worked a day in his life, unless you count ordering the staff around. Good looks, charming, yet so dumb. He owns a lot of cars, typical. It was hard to decide which one I wanted. I went with the Hennessy Venom GT. Killer little car. I’m getting quite the collection myself now. (she smirks) This one reminded me of my very first kill. I think that’s what first caught my eye, well that and his wallet. So I figured since he reminded me so much of my first I would kill him the same way. Keep in mind I was just starting out, had an obsession with ropes and knives and I wasn’t as neat as I am now. I have since perfected the technique, lucky for him. So he took me shopping, wined and dined me on his yacht and then he got a little “hung up” so he had to call it a night. (she grins) So I took the boat for a spin, wiped out his bank accounts, made myself at home at his place and now here I am. A hell of a lot richer then I was yesterday. (she looks at her new diamond bracelet) I never get tired of looking at a good quality cut diamond. Now that I had my fun, time to get back to other business. “Where are you Military Man?” (she says out loud) “Time to come out and play.” I’m going to head back to the Military Base tomorrow. See what’s going on there. It’s been a while since I paid them a visit. A girl never gets tired of her favorite toys. (she glances over at a hallway that leads to her weapons room) Time for a restock. Something tells me this might be just as fun as the night with the little rich boy. (she smiles) Till next time my dear diary.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 43)

I went to the Military Base. In and out as usual, got what I needed with minimum blood shed. (she looks impressed) Except for one thing… he was there. The Military Man. Came out of no where, but I was ready. This time he didn’t try to fight, run or approach me. Instead he stood a good distance, lowered his weapons, put his hands up, and that’s not the part that shocked me the most, It’s what he said. That he didn’t want to hurt me, he wanted me to join him. That he understood who I was and how I think. That he’s been watching me and the detective could never understand me like he could. He said he knew because he was one of us. One of the elite. Then what he said next made me laugh. That I had a choice, be his partner, or his enemy. No one gives ME a choice! (she stabs her knife into the table) Then what he said next pissed me off. That the detective has been lucky so far but maybe he may not be so lucky in the future. That he’d give me time to think. Then he vanished. Who does this bastard think he is? (her eyes got that dark look) No one tries to force me into anything and no one sure as hell threatens me! Do I warn the detective? How could I do that without blowing my cover? I only see one option. Join him. Join the Military Man. (she gets a cold grin on her face) He wants me? He can have me, all of me. My dark side, my evil side I keep buried way down deep that only a few have truly seen me at my worse. My soulless side when I turn off any and all emotions that even I myself don’t recognize who I am. The side of me I haven’t even begun to unleash. He wants me? I will tear him apart, limb by limb, gut him like the spineless coward he is. All while he’s fully conscious and aware of every little bit of pain I will inflict upon him. He will wish he never made me an offer. One I really can’t refuse. This may be my chance to finally end him. After all, there can only be one Villain. (she pulls the knife out of the table and slowly runs her finger over the blade as the blood drips down) “The next blood you see my beauty will not be mine.” (she puts it beside her) He just messed with the wrong girl. (she smiles) Sweet dreams my diary. I knew this little trip would be fun. I can’t wait till we meet again.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 44)

Things change. Our lives are one way and then they’re not. Memories fade to new ones and all we have to look at are pictures of people and places that are no longer the way they use to be. Life feels different somehow. We can never go back and change what hurt us or others most and we can’t bring back that moment in time. It’s a non stop cycle that we can’t pause. We can choose to dwell on it or to accept it. To accept it doesn’t mean we have to like it or that it still may not eat away at us from time to time but it means to know there is an end in sight. That it’s not forever. We can change the future when the time is right, when we are given that opportunity. Till then we wait, looking for that one glimmer of hope to hang on to. Without hope we have nothing. Without nothing we seize to exist. When we seize to exist we can’t fight. Then we are no good to anyone. This is what my father taught me. This is what kept me going after he died. This is what keeps me going still. Today is Thanksgiving Day. The day we are suppose to be thankful. How funny. Thankful for what? Rules to keep us in place? (she laughs) Lies, a corrupt government, I am feeling the joy as we speak. (she smirks) I guess I am thankful for some things. (she taps her fingers on the table) My trusty blade, my swift skills that keep me above the rest, oh and I thank all the countless numbers of filthy rich men once again for being the foolish naive souls they are and keeping my bank account plump and stuffed like a turkey. (she smiles, then it fades) To be a bit serious, this day reminds me of regret. In order to be thankful you have to of known sorrow. Sorrow is something I know all too well. (an alert goes off on her cell) It’s time to head out. (she looks at the clock) I am having dinner at the detective’s house. Seems I’m not the only one who usually has thanksgiving dinner alone. This will be a nice change. (she pauses to think about that) Sweet dreams my dear diary, I am thankful for you keeping all my secrets safe. (she locks up the diary and heads out)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 45)

It’s been a few weeks and nothing from the Military Man. I have made myself available but so far he’s been MIA. Literally. How boring. (she sighs) I was rather looking forward to a good game of skills. I don’t come across many with the ability to give me a good fight. (she smirks) I am also dying to see the man behind the mask. His piercing dark eyes tell a story all on their own, plus my retina scan tells me he has dark hair, he’s slightly older then me, clean bill of health, 5’11, obviously has obsessive qualities and clearly lacks boundaries. If I would have had more time I could of gotten his every strand of DNA. (she looks rather proud of herself) These contacts are one of the best toys I’ve made. A few minutes of eye contact and voila! They still need a bit of tweaking to gather information faster but they’ll do for now. I should of thought of these years ago. (she glances over at a mirror) I have had many sleepless nights inventing the next best thing, modifying weapons and gathering information. The mind never stops learning. I remember when I was young me and my father use to sneak into the libraries at night. He said we could travel anywhere we wanted to in our minds with these books. Then we’d bring one home for my mother when she was too weak to travel with us. Near the end of her life I would read to her. It seemed me and my father had two lives. One we shared with her and one we lived outside our home. She knew who my father was and what he did and she knew from an early age I was different, more like him. She loved our good side, and our bad side, because she loved us. He shared everything with her, even his secrets. (she pauses) She was beautiful, smart and taught me things my father couldn’t. Hair, makeup, perfume and how to be classy yet use my charm to my advantage and that a good red lipstick and heels will get them everytime. (she smiles) She may not have had powers but she was clever in her own way. She kept us grounded, taught us the more human side of life, the true meaning of loyalty and she ended up learning to fight very well. When she passed she had my father give me a letter. At the end of the letter she told me to never stop learning and to never forget. Then he handed me a book, one that would come to mean so much to me. One with endless pages that she had designed the cover and that my father had created a way for the pages to never end. I cherished this book and still do to this day. The book my Dear Diary, was you…
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 46)

Fire, flames and destruction! What a day! These things give me such a rush and not one nail chipped. (she looks down at her hands) I am in a rather good mood. Hit a few banks last night, a jewelry store and I’m set for the next few months. Not to mention I look stunning in this new diamond necklace I grabbed. (she looks down at her chest) Now to hit the stores for a new black dress and some killer heels. The detective invited me to his office Christmas party next week. (she laughs) Imagine that? Me, surrounded by all the good guys in town? This is going to be fun. (she smiles) I love the thrill of being right under their nose and even sipping champagne with them. Clueless men. My new DNA scanning contacts will come in handy. I will have the whole police department’s every last strand on file. You never know when that may come in handy. Oh how the tables will turn for them. Always trying to catch the bad guy when half of them are the real crooks. Imagine what I could do with their fingerprints? I’ll have to get those as well while I’m at it. A girl’s work is never done, even at a party. (she sighs then gets that dark look in her eyes) I’ll have to look to see which ones like to set people up then do a little setting up of my own. That will be my gift to the countless number of wrongful people in jail. Guess I’m in the giving mood. (she grins then starts to tap her fingers on the table) I feel a change in power coming on. Maybe it’s time I release a few of the most notorious. Even the playing field. After all it is the holidays. (she smiles) Let their freedom ring in the new year! A year of chaos! I will choose wisely since some should never see the light of day. Some I may even end their existence while I’m there. Tick tock. Who will make it, who will not? I feel like Santa making his list, except my list is so much more fun. Be good they say or no gifts? I don’t think he’ll be bringing me gifts any time soon. (she laughs) Time to get my plan in motion. Sleep well my diary. I have a prison to break into before morning. Time to spread some holiday cheer. (she laughs)
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 47)

The party was a blast, literally, but I’ll get to that. The night started out good. The detective looked rather handsome and who knew he could dance. (she laughs) Everyone was talking about the escapees from the prison. They will soon be shocked to learn it was one of their own who helped them. Well that’s what I will make it look like. (she smirks) So I made my way around the room and one by one when I was asked to dance I scanned their DNA and got fingerprints. I could tell the detective was rather jealous at the attention I was getting but I made up for that later. (she smiles) As the night went on a few more people showed up. It seemed the later it got the more rowdy everyone became. I’m guessing that was all the booze. Although the detective didn’t touch a drop, neither did I. (she stops to think) He is always on duty even when he says he’s not. Another thing we have in common. Then one guy came in. He seemed to catch the attention of most of the women in the room. He was good looking, the bad boy type of look, but he pulled off a very high class appearance which almost contradicted the vibe I was getting from him. Since he was the only person I hadn’t scanned yet, I made my way toward the bar while the detective was talking with the guys. He seemed to of already noticed me before I even got there. So sure enough he came over and asked me to dance. I said why not and then caught a side glimpse of the detective, which his demeanor seemed to change and he kept his eyes glued to me. Something was very off and my senses were telling me something was wrong so that made me want to get his scan done even more. As he grabbed my hand to dance the music turned to a slow song so he quickly pulled me close. I loosened one hand to keep it ready to grab my knife if I needed to. A girl never leaves her weapons at home. The detective at that point had moved closer to us. So I started the scan. As I looked into his eyes the scan barely started when it sent an alert to my phone. I glanced down quick excusing myself and it was a message asking if I wanted to rescan or continue where I left off. At that moment I knew who he was. Just as I was about to make my move the detective ran over and there was a loud explosion. There was smoke everywhere but the detective got me out quick. I know a diversion tactic when I see one. The detective planned that, but why? I think he knew who that was as well, our seemingly mutual enemy… the Military Man. I’m guessing he was there to ask me what my answer to his question was. I at least have seen the man behind the mask. Not bad looking indeed. Makes my job so much easier. (she smiles) The good looking ones go down just as easy as the rest. Till now I was ok not knowing how much the detective knew about me, about the Military Man, but now I’m not so sure. Our unspoken words may need to be spoken. Let the chips fall where they may. Till next time my Diary. I have a lot to think about.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 48)

Today is Christmas Eve. We use to celebrate it when my mother was alive. The holidays faded for us after she was gone. My father tried to keep it alive but it just wasn’t the same. Every year the tree got smaller, less lights and decorations went up, until we didn’t have a tree at all. He tried to celebrate it in other ways but it wasn’t the same. Then he met my step mother. Even then her holidays were as phony as she was. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my true feelings for her. I wish I had, then maybe he would still be alive today. Since then it has made me see holidays for what they truly are… dark and deadly. I have since created my own way to celebrate. (she gets that look in her eyes) I have put names in a jar. (she glances over to a dark colored glass jar in the other room) The names are of five of the wealthiest men within a 50 mile radius. At midnight I will draw one name from that jar and that person will get a visit from me before the sun rises on Christmas day. It’s so sad that he will not get to see that sun rise. (she grins) He will not get to see the joy on his families faces when they open up their over priced gifts. Their undeserving selfish fake smiles when they toss it to the side with the rest of the things they do not deserve because they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Sadly they will not see the gifts either. (she smiles) I will erase them all from this world and their gifts? I will leave them on the streets of the poorest neighborhood. Come one come all it’s a real Santa Claus! (she laughs) I will finish them off by shoving a real silver spoon down each one of their throats. This is what the Holidays are to me now. An eye for an eye. I lose my family you lose yours. (she glances over at the clock) It’s time. Tick Tock… Pleasant dreams my dearest diary. I have work to do.
 
 
 
DEAR DIARY, (blog 49)

It’s almost a New Year. I can hear all the wishful hope in the air and resolutions being made. (she laughs) Resolutions are for the weak minded souls who need to be pacified with a date to start something they are incapable of doing on their own. The empty promises they make only to be broken then all hope is lost again. (she shakes her head) Sad really. Tisk tisk. (she smirks) Like I really care about people being sad. There is no time for that. I should just slaughter them all and end their miserable existence. (she stabs her knife into the usual spot on the table) This was an interesting week. I met a man who was here on business. He’s one of those Wall Street Wolfs I call them. Never worked a real day in his life other then to sit on his phone all day buying and selling stocks. They want for nothing and no one yet the cry when they don’t get their way. A wolfs cry, phony as all hell. So I charmed him at the bar, drugged and killed him at the hotel and let’s just say I now own a little piece of Wall Street myself now. This was a big score to end the year with. (she smiles) The private jet may come in handy. Where to keep all these toys I am piling up. (she grins) I also tried to talk to the detective about what happened at the party with the Military Man. He kissed me before I even got the whole sentence out. Then he whispered in my ear that some things are better left unspoken. Now where have I heard that before? (she’s thinking how many times she has said that) He can sometimes drive me crazy. He’s too much like me in some ways. Minus the fact he’s on the opposite side of the law. (she gets a devilish smile) I have to meet him soon to ring in the New Year. He’s so traditional in some ways and not in others. (she laughs) I think next year will be a promising one. I just have a feeling. (she gets that dark look in her eyes again) Should old acquaintance be forgot? No, they should be slaughtered. See you in soon Military Man. (she looks at the clock) I have to run. Happy new Year my Dear Diary. I have some celebrating to do.
 
 
 

DEAR DIARY, (blog 50)

Darkness fell swiftly upon us. Someone was there. We weren’t alone. I remember running, his hand in mine, he had such a strong hold on me. We didn’t need to speak we just ran. I wanted to stop. I don’t run from things I fight, but he kept pulling me until we reached a small section of wooded area that seemed to slightly drop off. Then he threw open a hatch that was cleverly buried beneath the dirt and stones. The detective told me to jump in. It was dark but when he looked into my eyes I could see the urgency so I did. He jumped down behind me, closed the hatch and suddenly it was silent. He flipped a switch and there were sounds of lights turning on, room by room, computers and gadgets lit up. Then a screen in which he gave a command to pulled up his house on camera. This was high tech. It was almost as good as what I have. Almost. (she grins) Then on screen there he was, the Military Man. Creeping around the detective’s house and in the room we were just in. I looked over at him and he quickly started to type things in on the computer and trap after trap was laid out. We watched in silence as he seemed to maneuver around each one. What was he looking for? Was he looking for us? Then we were both drawn back to the screen as one of the barb wire traps sliced his arm and almost had his legs caught up. He was hurt. There was a lot of blood but he managed to escape. There would be a trail. I started to head to the hatch but the detective pulled me back and said “It’s not safe. He could see where you came from and I won’t take a chance with your life.” As we watched him disappear out into the night we just stood there starring at a blank screen. It became so silent the world could have collapsed and we would not of noticed. I finally turned to him and the first words came out of my mouth. “So much for things better left unspoken.” Then he walked over to me and said “I guess so” and he looked into my eyes. Then he grabbed my hand and said “Some things are still better left unsaid.” I knew what he meant. He meant things about me, about him. I replied back “I agree” and with just a look we were both ok with that. Then he walked over to a safe and took out a file. “It’s time you know who the Military Man really is.” ….. (to be continued)
 
ENTER PART THREE HERE —> CONTINUE

 
 
 
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