Unwanted Visitors – Charity Nocturna

Enora awoke with a pleased moan, enjoying the feel of silk sheets against her bare skin. She opened her eyes to see the black face of the Dark Leprechaun from the Through his Eyes movie. She hopped up, confused.
The prior night crept back into her mind. She and Dan had bowled, drank and laughed. One thing led to another, another being his bed. Looking around she saw her best blouse shredded on the floor. Her blonde wig lying in a heap by the window. Sighing, she got up and tossed on one of his dress shirts, buttoning it enough to keep it from falling off. She brushed her hair with her fingers as she walked into his pristine kitchen. Bless him, he left coffee.
Enora grabbed a cup and wandered back to his living room. He’ll be at work now. He always lets me sleep in. He’s so sweet. Her brow furrowed as she took a sip and scalded her mouth. She still enjoyed the feeling of caffeine flowing through her system. Her subterranean home was good for a lot, but coffee wasn’t one of them. The smell of anything attracted rats, and she hated rats.
She sunk into his plush couch to drink her coffee. This has to be the last time. We’re getting too close. If he gets close he’s in danger. Even as she thought it she knew it wasn’t true. She cared too much for him. If this keeps up he’ll find me out. What if he hates Charity?
She reached for the remote when there was a knock on the door “Cleaning Lady!” came a muffled woman’s voice. Enora froze. Dan didn’t have a cleaning lady. The knocking became more insistent. Enora backed into the kitchen and grabbed the broom.
A deep voice came next “Enora Westerson, we’re here to talk. We’re old friends of your parents.” Enora ran through the apartment smashing lights and closing shades. She then ran into the bedroom and dived behind the bed.
Moments later a loud thud came from the door. How the hell do they know my last name? I haven’t used my last name since I was 10. Feeling around in his bed stand she found his pocket knife. She slid the tiny blade into her palm and clicked it open.
Moments later the door shattered and two sets of footsteps entered the apartment. The light switch clicked several times. “She’s smart. No wonder she’s lived so long,” the woman said.
“Not much longer,” the man answered. He raised his voice “Enora, don’t make this hard. You’re trapped in here. give yourself up and we’ll make it qui-oof! What the hell Anna?”
“You think she’ll come out now? You made this job 10 times harder dumbass,” the female voice was sharp in the relative quiet of the apartment.
“What do you want with me,” Enora shouted, adding a quaver to her voice. Her voice echoed through the apartment. The man seemed dense, she might get some information before escaping.
“An old fr-” the man started.
“Shut it, Will. She doesn’t need to know anything,” the female growled.
Damn. I need to get rid of that bitch. Enora felt around until she found a heavy flashlight. She had bought it for Dan after he got mugged a year ago. Of course, he never remembered it. She peeked over the edge of the bed. The hall light outlined the shape of two figures holding weapons. Rising, Enora hurled the flashlight at the shorter figure. Moments later there was a fleshy crunch followed by a thud.
“Anna? What the hell?” the man shouted. “I’ll kill you!”
Enora pushed her voice as high as possible and exaggerated the shaking she faked before. “Why do you want to kill me! I’m just a street performer!” She was sure the idiot would bite without his keeper.
“You know too much. Mr. Masterson needs you out of the way.”
Enora almost leapt up and charged the man. He worked for that bastard Masterson. Word was he was running for governor. Must be he was tying up loose ends from his sordid past. Her muscles tensed, and she growled under her breath. As much as she wanted to beat the man to a pulp, she needed to die to keep Masterson in the dark. Reaching out a hand she grabbed her ruined blouse. She began feeling around in the hidden pockets on the sleeves. After a tense moment, she found what she was looking for, a small capsule. She swallowed it and yelled “Please don’t hurt me. I won’t say nothing! I haven’t told and its been 17 years!”
“Sorry, I got orders,” he said, moving towards the bedroom.
The man had to shoot Enora in 1 minute 24 seconds. First, she needed a bullet hole. Gritting her teeth, she slammed the knife into her breast. She calculated her stab to be shallow and in an inconspicuous area. She didn’t want scars to show while dancing if she could help it.  Enora took a deep breath and let a sob escape.  The idiot wouldn’t know she wasn’t terrified. She saw a small sliver of light coming around the curtain.
5..4..3..2..1 she threw her blouse in front of the light and a shot rang out. Before the sound of the shot ended she had thrown herself on the floor with a thud. The man’s footsteps echoed closer as the pill kicked in and she slid into darkness.

Published by Robert C Hartwell

I live in Northeastern Vermont in the US. I am currently working towards becoming an author. I am the proud father of two great kids.

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