Scarlet Crystal
Bibbity Rabbity
“Full of Secrets”
rated PG-13 for violence
Arvin Sloane stood in the darkened office, an unwanted and unexpected guest. It wouldn’t be long before the man entered the room and met his untimely end. It was to be the man’s end, decided Arvin as he examined the photographs on the wall. The man was an unimportant contact by the name of Chandler, and Arvin needed only one thing from him.
On the other end of the hallway outside the office, the sound of the elevator arriving rang out. Arvin sniffed. He thought he might be getting a cold. Setting aside this mundane thought, he positioned himself by the window and examined the city lights.
Muffled footsteps echoed from the corridor, and a key fumbled in the lock. Arvin slid his hand nonchalantly into his pocket and grasped his gun lightly. The door swung open and closed. Chandler stood by the light switch, unaware of his visitor. As his finger pressed the switch, Arvin removed his gun from his large coat pocket and fired a silenced bullet into the man’s leg.
Chandler let out a painful cry and collapsed onto the floor, clutching his leg and emitting shrieks. Arvin crossed the room in a few steps and flipped the lock on the door. Chandler rolled away from him, whimpering and convulsing.
“Hello, Chandler,” Arvin said pleasantly, looking down at his captive. “How’s my aim?”
The man did not respond, but took sharp breaths and scrambled across the floor in the opposite direction.
“Well, you must know why I’m here,” Arvin said loudly. “You didn’t deliver. All I want to know is who paid you to double cross me.”
“Go to hell,” Chandler spat, a manic grin on his contorted face. He shuddered and scooted so that he sat with his back shivering against the wall. “I won’t tell you anything.”
“At least we agree you betrayed me,” Arvin acknowledged. “That simplifies this matter somewhat. Before you confess to your benefactor, I’d also like to know what you’ve done with my package.”
Chandler shook his head violently.
“No?” Arvin asked shortly. Chandler continued to shake his head furiously, clutching his thigh. Arvin fired a bullet into the man’s opposite shoulder. Chandler howled and gripped his shoulder.
“Stop! Stop!” he cried between inhuman shrieks.
“You’re going to talk to me?” Arvin questioned, impressed at the man’s cooperation.
“Yes! I have the package. It’s not far. I didn’t deliver it yet—”
“Deliver it?” Arvin cut off. “To whom did you intend to deliver it?”
Chandler shook his head forcefully once more. “I—I can’t…”
“Why not?” Arvin asked, looking at the clock. “That’s where you’ve lost me.”
Chandler set his head against the wall, attempting to breathe deeply. “I can’t,” he repeated.
“I understand that much,” Arvin said, raising his gun.
“No! Stop!” Chandler cried. “They can hear! They’ll know!”
“Can they?” Arvin demanded. Chandler nodded this time.
“To be frank,” Arvin said, “I don’t care. At least they’ll know I can get to them.”
“I don’t know their names anyway,” Chandler said quickly.
“Are you telling me that you have no information of value?” Arvin asked. “Because you know what that means.”
Chandler’s eyes widened. “Please, no—I can tell you something.”
Arvin waited, glancing out the window. It was nearly 7:00 PM, and he had dinner to catch. “Feel up to sharing yet, Chandler?” he demanded, refocusing on the man on the floor in front of him.
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I can tell you—I can tell you…”
“Well, say it, then,” Arvin spat, his patience rapidly deteriorating.
“It’s Christmas,” Chandler said weakly. Arvin thought he detected a grin on the man’s face.
“That’s right,” Arvin said at last. “And guess who won’t be going home to his family?”
The grin disappeared instantaneously. Arvin raised his gun once more. “No!” screamed Chandler. “No!”
“If you won’t talk, I have no reason to keep you alive,” Arvin explained in a bored voice.
“Wait. Wait, Sloane. I can tell you where the package is. It’s near. It’s very near.”
“That part I can find for myself. I confess: your telling me its location would only spare me some extra time. All I really needed from you was who you worked for.” Arvin crouched at Chandler’s side and looked him in the eye. “If you can’t tell me that much, your existence is completely worthless.” Arvin stood and backed up a few steps. He raised his gun slowly and aimed it between Chandler’s bulging eyes.
“Please, it’s Christmas—please, I’m begging you! Kill me tomorrow. Kill—”
Losing patience, Arvin fired and ended his captive’s raving. All sound ceased. On a whim, Arvin approached the body and felt in the pockets. His brow furrowed as he felt a small, smooth package. Removing it, he chuckled to himself. It was a Christmas gift, fully wrapped and ready for delivery. While it was not the package he had hoped for, Arvin was nonetheless pleased. He stood, wondering at what lay inside the wrapping. As he unlocked and opened the office door, he turned off the light on his way out.
Arvin entered the living room, a whimsical smile on his face. Nadia looked up from her seat by the fireplace and set her book aside. “You made it! I was worried I might have to spend Christmas alone,” she exclaimed, rising to greet him.
“Never, sweetheart,” Arvin promised, holding out his hands. She took them and looked him kindly in the eye.
“I hope you haven’t tired yourself out too much,” she said with a smile. “Writing reports is grueling work.”
“Yes, it certainly is,” her father agreed, allowing himself a moment of self pity.
“Well, put work to the side for a moment and help me set the table.”
“Yes, Nadia. I’ll be right along. I need to put my coat away first.”
“Sure.”
Arvin hung his black coat in the closet by the door and removed the package from the pocket. It was slightly spattered with blood, so Arvin removed its contents and crumbled the wrapping in one hand. With the other, he opened the dirtied box. A shiny gold pendant glittered in the dim light. Arvin raised his eyebrows. What luck! A gift had presented itself to replace the one he had forgotten to buy.
“Nadia?” he called, stuffing the wrapping and box back into the pocket and promptly shutting the closet door.
“Yes, Dad. I’m in the kitchen,” she responded. The sound of a drawer sliding open and closed reached Arvin’s ears.
“Do you mind if I give you your gift now?” he asked, turning the corner with his hands behind his back.
Nadia pivoted on her heels to face him, two pairs of forks and knives in hand. She shrugged. “If you want. I’ll bring yours out as soon as we sit down,” she conceded. Arvin smiled and inclined his head.
“As you wish,” he said. Nadia disappeared into the dining room. Arvin cast about for something to wrap the pendant in. Nothing presented itself, but he wasn’t bothered. Wrapping was a waste anyway: it would only be ripped apart moments after he presented the gift. He entered the small dining room and seated himself where he could see the fireplace through the doorway.
Nadia returned with a small wrapped gift, which she handed across the table. “Open it. You can give me mine second,” she suggested, sitting across from her father.
Arvin removed the wrapping and set it to one side. Within the slender box was a stylish and somewhat costly black fountain pen. He raised his eyebrows, impressed.
“I noticed your favorite Montblanc pen exploded the other day, so I got you a replacement,” Nadia explained calmly.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you,” Arvin said meaningfully. He passed the unwrapped pendant across the table, adding, “Merry Christmas.”
Nadia looked confused. “I didn’t have any wrapping paper,” Arvin lied. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked peremptorily.
“No, of course not,” Nadia said quickly. “It’s beautiful! Where did you get it?”
“That’s my little secret,” Arvin said easily. Nadia laughed.
“You’re full of secrets, Dad. I love you. Thanks for the present. It’s very pretty.”
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Arvin said with kind expression. “Shall we eat?”
THE END.
rated PG-13 for violence
Arvin Sloane stood in the darkened office, an unwanted and unexpected guest. It wouldn’t be long before the man entered the room and met his untimely end. It was to be the man’s end, decided Arvin as he examined the photographs on the wall. The man was an unimportant contact by the name of Chandler, and Arvin needed only one thing from him.
On the other end of the hallway outside the office, the sound of the elevator arriving rang out. Arvin sniffed. He thought he might be getting a cold. Setting aside this mundane thought, he positioned himself by the window and examined the city lights.
Muffled footsteps echoed from the corridor, and a key fumbled in the lock. Arvin slid his hand nonchalantly into his pocket and grasped his gun lightly. The door swung open and closed. Chandler stood by the light switch, unaware of his visitor. As his finger pressed the switch, Arvin removed his gun from his large coat pocket and fired a silenced bullet into the man’s leg.
Chandler let out a painful cry and collapsed onto the floor, clutching his leg and emitting shrieks. Arvin crossed the room in a few steps and flipped the lock on the door. Chandler rolled away from him, whimpering and convulsing.
“Hello, Chandler,” Arvin said pleasantly, looking down at his captive. “How’s my aim?”
The man did not respond, but took sharp breaths and scrambled across the floor in the opposite direction.
“Well, you must know why I’m here,” Arvin said loudly. “You didn’t deliver. All I want to know is who paid you to double cross me.”
“Go to hell,” Chandler spat, a manic grin on his contorted face. He shuddered and scooted so that he sat with his back shivering against the wall. “I won’t tell you anything.”
“At least we agree you betrayed me,” Arvin acknowledged. “That simplifies this matter somewhat. Before you confess to your benefactor, I’d also like to know what you’ve done with my package.”
Chandler shook his head violently.
“No?” Arvin asked shortly. Chandler continued to shake his head furiously, clutching his thigh. Arvin fired a bullet into the man’s opposite shoulder. Chandler howled and gripped his shoulder.
“Stop! Stop!” he cried between inhuman shrieks.
“You’re going to talk to me?” Arvin questioned, impressed at the man’s cooperation.
“Yes! I have the package. It’s not far. I didn’t deliver it yet—”
“Deliver it?” Arvin cut off. “To whom did you intend to deliver it?”
Chandler shook his head forcefully once more. “I—I can’t…”
“Why not?” Arvin asked, looking at the clock. “That’s where you’ve lost me.”
Chandler set his head against the wall, attempting to breathe deeply. “I can’t,” he repeated.
“I understand that much,” Arvin said, raising his gun.
“No! Stop!” Chandler cried. “They can hear! They’ll know!”
“Can they?” Arvin demanded. Chandler nodded this time.
“To be frank,” Arvin said, “I don’t care. At least they’ll know I can get to them.”
“I don’t know their names anyway,” Chandler said quickly.
“Are you telling me that you have no information of value?” Arvin asked. “Because you know what that means.”
Chandler’s eyes widened. “Please, no—I can tell you something.”
Arvin waited, glancing out the window. It was nearly 7:00 PM, and he had dinner to catch. “Feel up to sharing yet, Chandler?” he demanded, refocusing on the man on the floor in front of him.
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I can tell you—I can tell you…”
“Well, say it, then,” Arvin spat, his patience rapidly deteriorating.
“It’s Christmas,” Chandler said weakly. Arvin thought he detected a grin on the man’s face.
“That’s right,” Arvin said at last. “And guess who won’t be going home to his family?”
The grin disappeared instantaneously. Arvin raised his gun once more. “No!” screamed Chandler. “No!”
“If you won’t talk, I have no reason to keep you alive,” Arvin explained in a bored voice.
“Wait. Wait, Sloane. I can tell you where the package is. It’s near. It’s very near.”
“That part I can find for myself. I confess: your telling me its location would only spare me some extra time. All I really needed from you was who you worked for.” Arvin crouched at Chandler’s side and looked him in the eye. “If you can’t tell me that much, your existence is completely worthless.” Arvin stood and backed up a few steps. He raised his gun slowly and aimed it between Chandler’s bulging eyes.
“Please, it’s Christmas—please, I’m begging you! Kill me tomorrow. Kill—”
Losing patience, Arvin fired and ended his captive’s raving. All sound ceased. On a whim, Arvin approached the body and felt in the pockets. His brow furrowed as he felt a small, smooth package. Removing it, he chuckled to himself. It was a Christmas gift, fully wrapped and ready for delivery. While it was not the package he had hoped for, Arvin was nonetheless pleased. He stood, wondering at what lay inside the wrapping. As he unlocked and opened the office door, he turned off the light on his way out.
Arvin entered the living room, a whimsical smile on his face. Nadia looked up from her seat by the fireplace and set her book aside. “You made it! I was worried I might have to spend Christmas alone,” she exclaimed, rising to greet him.
“Never, sweetheart,” Arvin promised, holding out his hands. She took them and looked him kindly in the eye.
“I hope you haven’t tired yourself out too much,” she said with a smile. “Writing reports is grueling work.”
“Yes, it certainly is,” her father agreed, allowing himself a moment of self pity.
“Well, put work to the side for a moment and help me set the table.”
“Yes, Nadia. I’ll be right along. I need to put my coat away first.”
“Sure.”
Arvin hung his black coat in the closet by the door and removed the package from the pocket. It was slightly spattered with blood, so Arvin removed its contents and crumbled the wrapping in one hand. With the other, he opened the dirtied box. A shiny gold pendant glittered in the dim light. Arvin raised his eyebrows. What luck! A gift had presented itself to replace the one he had forgotten to buy.
“Nadia?” he called, stuffing the wrapping and box back into the pocket and promptly shutting the closet door.
“Yes, Dad. I’m in the kitchen,” she responded. The sound of a drawer sliding open and closed reached Arvin’s ears.
“Do you mind if I give you your gift now?” he asked, turning the corner with his hands behind his back.
Nadia pivoted on her heels to face him, two pairs of forks and knives in hand. She shrugged. “If you want. I’ll bring yours out as soon as we sit down,” she conceded. Arvin smiled and inclined his head.
“As you wish,” he said. Nadia disappeared into the dining room. Arvin cast about for something to wrap the pendant in. Nothing presented itself, but he wasn’t bothered. Wrapping was a waste anyway: it would only be ripped apart moments after he presented the gift. He entered the small dining room and seated himself where he could see the fireplace through the doorway.
Nadia returned with a small wrapped gift, which she handed across the table. “Open it. You can give me mine second,” she suggested, sitting across from her father.
Arvin removed the wrapping and set it to one side. Within the slender box was a stylish and somewhat costly black fountain pen. He raised his eyebrows, impressed.
“I noticed your favorite Montblanc pen exploded the other day, so I got you a replacement,” Nadia explained calmly.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you,” Arvin said meaningfully. He passed the unwrapped pendant across the table, adding, “Merry Christmas.”
Nadia looked confused. “I didn’t have any wrapping paper,” Arvin lied. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked peremptorily.
“No, of course not,” Nadia said quickly. “It’s beautiful! Where did you get it?”
“That’s my little secret,” Arvin said easily. Nadia laughed.
“You’re full of secrets, Dad. I love you. Thanks for the present. It’s very pretty.”
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Arvin said with kind expression. “Shall we eat?”
THE END.