A few notes from the author: This is technically a sequel to my first installment When it Rains it Pours, and I suggest that if you are interested in this, you should read that one first. It may be a tad bit confusing as the story advances if you haven't read the previous story. Also, just to make a disclaimer, I do not own any of Stephanie Meyer's characters, but I do own this plot. Another fact concerning plot, is that all of the medical information is accurate throughout the story. Yes, I do own a medical dictionary and encyclopedia, so I've looked things up before tying it in to my fictional story. Happy reading!
The Ace of Spades Assassin
Alex Clifton pressed his foot firmly on the accelerator of his car as he hastily sped down the empty street. Beads of sweat began to slide down his face as he gripped the wheel tightly. His heart was pounding, and his only thought was to get away from that bloody house. Images passed relentlessly through his head as he tried to force himself to block them out. Would they follow him? Had he been seen? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had just witnessed a murder, and it was one of the strangest and most frightening things he had ever seen. Screams echoed through his mind as a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.
"The police will take care of it…there was nothing I could have done…"
He thought, trying to convince himself that his flight was the right thing. Surly the man was killed instantly.
"What just happened?" It all seemed so unreal.
He pulled out his cell phone with trembling hands. He was hesitant. If he called the police, then he would be interrogated unyieldingly as a witness, not only that, but he would be a prime suspect. That was the last thing he wanted, being questioned and accused again by the harsh justice system that ran his country. He had to do it though, it was the right thing. He closed his eyes for a brief moment while he was at a stop sign, hoping that somehow, what he had just seen was not true. He reopened them and sped off. He made the call quickly and reluctantly. They now had his cell phone number, and would undoubtedly be calling him soon. This thought troubled him slightly, he didn't like dealing with the police.
Alex rolled down his window after stashing his cell phone into his pocket. The refreshing summer night air filled his mouth as he breathed deeply. Memories of his past experience collided with the event he had just witnessed. With another deep breath, he began to calm down. Although his nerves were calmed, a feeling of hatred towards the murderer raised within him, along side the pang of guilt for leaving the murdered man behind.
The wind blew in through his window sharply as Alex sped down the narrow road towards his apartment building. He parked quickly and rushed inside and up the stairs (he didn't bother with the elevator). He burst into his humble flat that lived in alone and placed himself on the sofa.
"Why do these things always happen to me?" He mumbled as he leaned forward. Fate had always seemed to deal him a bad hand, putting him in the wrong place at the wrong time. As he sat back up, his eyes met the gold-colored frame that encased a picture of himself and his girlfriend. He remembered that day very clearly, they had felt as though they would be together forever. He stared for another second at the happy couple in the picture, embracing each other in beatitude. For a moment, tears threatened at the corner of his eyes. The images he had seen, what seemed like only moments ago, collided again with memories of the past. After a few reluctantly reminiscent minutes, Alex dragged himself to his bedroom, anticipating yet another sleepless night.