• Ellie Scarlett Skye stood- no, not stood; loomed over the body, her hand holding the weapon tightly in a fist, almost daring the body to move, to breathe the breath of life again. She was 98.98% positive that the body was dead— arms hanging limp over the edge of the bed— but there was still that .02% that said maybe, just maybe…
    After standing bent over the body for a good minute and half, the body staying in the same position as it was a minute ago, the effect of staying up for 21 hours straight began to hit her. Ellie staggered backwards, determined to make it home tonight and not sleeping on the side of the road until tomorrow afternoon. She tripped over a bump in the carpet and, swinging her arms wildly while dancing on one foot, landed on the bed, a foot literally up her a**. “Goddamn!” She half-whispered, shuffling over to sit on the very edge of the bed. Now that she was sitting and had a moment to herself, she closed her eyes and smiled. “Another job well-done, if I do say so myself, which I do.” She kicked off her shoes, wiggling her toes letting them breathe for a minute before they went back at work.
    She stopped, her feet up in the air, and opened her eyes slowly, widening as they opened. She appeared to be focusing on something in the distance, her head tilted to the right. Her eyes narrowed as she quickly and smoothly got up, sliding into her shoes. She cleared her throat. “Well, I guess it’s time to go.” She said loudly and clearly. “But first, time to go take a bathroom break— it’s been a long day.” Ellie almost laughed at herself— her acting couldn’t have been any worse. She took a few steps towards the private bathroom, making it more than halfway when she heard the quiet, predictable sound of cloth rubbing against a rougher material— the carpet.
    Slowly, careful not to make a sound, Ellie turned and laid herself flat against the carpet, watching the young man crawl out from under the bed, slowly edging his way towards the door leading outside. Ellie cleared her throat loudly and got up off the floor, brushing imaginary dust off and walked towards him. At the sound of her voice, he stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly, checking to see if she really was behind him. Ellie thought that this was the cheesiest part of killer movies- the victim turning around to see if he really was being followed. I mean c’mon! Just run!! Anyways…
    “Hey!” She said in the friendliest voice she could muster, with enthusiasm by the bottle. “How are you?” He had fully turned around to face her now, sitting on the floor and edging his way backwards towards the wall. His features were easy to read- he was pale as a ghost, his pupils were small and his breath quickened when she had spoke out loud to him. He looked at her frantically, eyes darting occasionally towards the door. Ellie guessed that he was young, but not too young, a good couple of years after puberty; from her spot around the bed, she could see stubble forming around his chin... probably around sixteen, seventeen. “Oh, honey.” She walked towards him and kneeled in front of him. “That would be a mistake. You just saw- err, at least heard- what I can do. You really gonna try to run away? C’mon… you gotta realize that I’ll have to kill you. And honestly,” Ellie leaned in close for emphasis. “It’d be a snap.”
    He scrambled backward, feeling the wall, trying to find a way out. Hot tears started to stream down his face as he pulled out a knife out of his pocket and pointed it awkwardly at Ellie. She looked from the knife to him and back again. She sighed and shook her head in disappointment. “What do you plan on doing with that?” She pointed to it, saying clearly that it was a pathetic defence against a professional killer. “You know,” She said, relaxing slightly, “I’m not a savage killer. I know what I’m doing and 1) I can take that from you in about… three easy steps and 2) I don’t want to hurt you, but if you give me motive I can do it. Painfully.” He flinched and threw the knife across the room, bringing his knees up and resting his head on them. “Good. We have an understanding.”
    Ellie pulled a pillow off the bed, got closer to the boy and sat on it. “Here’s how it’ll go. I need to find out some information and, depending on what you tell me, we’ll see how the fate of your life goes.” He looked up, eyes wide in fear. “Hey, bumpkin! It was a joke. Laugh a little.” His eyes narrowed and something struck Ellie deep down. She studied his face and decided something. Leaning back, eyebrows knit, she said, “You know, you’re really cute for an average Joe from under the bed.” His head shot up, bewilderment written all over his face. She smiled.
    “Anyways, let’s start easy. Here’s how it’s going to go. I’m going to ask you a series of questions, you answer them – nicely- and we’ll establish who you are and what I’m going to do with you. Your co-operation is completely necessary and will provide a more efficient question-answer period.” He looked at her like she was crazy, which was completely fine with Ellie, as she settled herself, ready.
    “Now,” Ellie started. “What’s your name?” She waited expectantly for an answer, and when it became clear that she wasn’t going to get one, she added, “c’mon now. I know ways to get the answers out of you… painful ways…”
    “Ryvre! Okay?! My name is Ryvre. Ryvre Thompson. Does that satisfy you? Can I go now?” He answered angrily, wiping the tears from his face on his sleeve. Ellie felt the blood drain from her face.
    “What’d you say you’re last name was?” She asked, barely hearing herself. “Ryvre …Thompson?” The boy nodded once, looking away, letting his hair cover his face. Ellie shook herself and tried to steady her heartbeat. “As in Charles Thompson? Alice Thompson? That Thompson over there?” She cocked her head behind her, indicating the old man dead on the bed.
    He turned towards her, his jaw set. “Yeah, those would be the Thompsons. Especially that one on the bed. That one was my grandfather! As in my guardian for the last ten years! God, figures tonight was the night that he wasn’t actually crazy.” Ryvre ran a hand through his hair. “I came up to talk to him and he told me to hide, saying that someone was coming up the stairs. I hid under the bed. All because of a crazy ******** man who wasn’t so crazy after all!” When he finished, he was breathing heavily and leaning forward, staring into Ellie’s icy blue eyes to get his point across.
    Hearing his story for being in the bedroom, Ellie heard a big hole in the story. She leaned forward, not breaking eye contact. “So why do you have a knife, if you were just going to ‘talk’ to your grandfather?” He blinked and looked away, this time to the knife a few feet away from them. “Lemme guess, you were helping the help cut some vegetables and suddenly got the urge to talk to your grandfather and forgot to put the knife away.” Ryvre scoffed. “Didn’t think so. Let me tell you me real theory. For some stupid teenage angst- motivated reason, you came in here ready to kill your grandfather; you guys got into a heated argument when he told you to get out or hide and then physically pushed you under the bed and I beat you to the punch, killing him quickly and effortlessly. With a few slight changes in the story, of course.” Ryvre’s jaw dropped as she finished off the story, his eyes wide in shock. Ellie smirked. “Thought so.” She got up, brushed off dust and looked down at the boy. “So. I must ask, who are you’re parents? Or I probably should say were, since we’ve probably most likely killed them already since you were living with your grandpa in this smelly old house.” Ryvre looked up at her, speechless. She sighed.
    “Ok, anyways. Since we’ve established that I kick a** at guessing games and who you are, at least slightly, I guess it’s time to tell you what I’ve decided to do with you.” Ryvre gulped, worriedly. Ellie reached out a hand to help him up. “Congratulations and welcome to the Witness Protection Program.” She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and gestured for him to turn around and place his hands behind his back. “Please contain your excitement as you’ve already made me a good hour late to reporting home.” She smiled at Ryvre as he gave her a confused look. Who said she couldn’t have fun with this?