"I can't wait to see you all dressed up." Lincoln whispered, his lips pressed against his wife's ear as his chestnut arms held her from behind.

Michelle smiled softly as a chuckle slithered past her lips. "Well, you have to let me go in order for that to happen."

After Michelle's confrontation with the overseer, she decided that it was critical that her and Lincoln spent a weekend away for a mini vacation. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep late at night enthralled in her husband's sweet embrace and to wake up to breakfast in bed in a five star hotel. But, more than anything, she wanted to calm her racing mind and forget about yesterday's events entirely. However, despite her determination to enjoy time away with her husband, she couldn't for the life of her stop thinking about the retribution assignment that Mr. Everette demanded that she carry out.

The brunette wasn't stupid and she was well aware that the second Mr. Everette finds out that she failed to heed his orders, he'd station another retributioner at her house to watch her every move. After what he said to her the night before, there was no doubt in her mind that the overseer was capable of anything. And although she refused to follow the orders of any individual that referred to her as a monkey,  she still couldn't help but wonder if she was doing the right thing.

In the ten years that she had been a retributioner, she had never once failed to eliminate an assigned target. But, she also knew that her husband was right, she had to look out for her health considering she had a living, breathing being growing inside of her.

"Alright." Lincoln whined as he reluctantly pulled away. "Well, try not to take too long getting ready, our reservations are in an hour. I'm gonna go ahead and get a Do Not Disturb sign from the main lobby. For some reason, they forgot to give us one, which is a shame because we'll definitely be needing it tonight." He grinned before giving Michelle a quick peck on the lips and slipping out of the hotel room.

Michelle took her husband's presence as an opportunity to make the phone call that she so desperately needed to make. She pulled her burner phone from her suitcase along with the crumbled up sheet of paper that had a phone number printed on it in black ink. She frantically typed the numbers into the device before pressing it to her ear. A sly grin spread across her lips once the sound of the automated service made contact with her cochlea. 

"Name: Michelle Russel. District: New York. Certification Number: 1815445. Overseer: Charles Everette. " The ebony woman uttered urgently as she glanced towards the door, praying that her husband wouldn't be back too soon. She listened to the silence while her call was transferred.

"Vivian Sanders." A woman finally responded. "This better be good."

"Sir, she's not here." Martin reluctantly muttered into his cell phone. His eyes surveyed the overgrown grass and plethora of weeds that surrounded the vast amount of poorly structured homes with cracked windows and graffiti branded walls. He flinched at the blaring, blatant barking emitted from the mud covered golden retriever that yapped away at him from the outside of his car.

"Of course she isn't." Mr. Everette hissed into the speaker. "Thank you, Martin."

"Listen, we don't have to do this." The Asian man assured with a furrowed brow.

"You said that she's not there." The overseer sighed. "So, yeah, Martin, we do have to do this."

"She could just be running late or maybe she got lost on the way. I mean, this is an unfamiliar part of town, she may not know her way around and she could be on her way as far as we know." 

"We both know that that's bullshit. She's not there because she's disobedient. Plain and simple. And anyway, you need to calm down, what's about to go down won't be on you or any of us. It'll be on her, she made the decision not to show." The older man explained. "She wants to play ball...then let's play ball."

"But-."

"No buts." Mr. Everette demanded. "We're doing this."

"You have my go ahead." The overseer asserted. "Get it done quick, don't make it fancy, just get the job done and call me when it's finished and only when it's finished."

"You got it." Tyson promised just before hanging up. He pulled his black hood over his head and brought the matching raven colored scarf over his mouth, leaving nothing but his eyes unmasked. He grabbed his jet black duffel bag and swiftly slipped out of his vehicle, shutting the door with a soft thud.

He scurried down the street, hiding in the shadows produced by the gloomy night sky. He traveled to a grandiose oak tree, concealing himself using it's oversized branches. Tyson peaked out from the large plant and allowed his eyes to rest on the sizable home that sat just across the street. The bright lights within the home illuminated the entire house, giving off a safe, homey feel that Tyson was determined to destroy.

He surveyed the area ensuring that there were no bystanders before dashing out from behind the tree and running up towards the low window on the far left side of the home. He grabbed the compact mechanical screw driver from his hoodie before silently and smoothly unscrewing the silver bolts from the window. Tyson quietly removed the glass, placing it onto the soft grass. He lifted the straps of his duffel bag and climbed inside through the window, easing his feet down onto the hardwood floor.

His eyes danced from the bright purple walls to the plethora of makeup and clothes that filled the bedroom. He quickly unzipped his bag and pulled out a red gas tank before spilling its contents onto the floor in a straight line as he backed out of the bedroom, next slipping into an adjacent room.

After silently painting the area in the flammable gasoline, Tyson carefully peered out from the room and into the kitchen, his gaze landing on a brunette and a blonde, most likely teenagers, both dressed in matching Christmas onesies. His eyes softened upon seeing the young girls biting into their freshly baked sugar cookies as they sat on the kitchen island bar, having a quiet conversation.

He took a deep breath and nodded his head in determination, not allowing his backbone to falter at the sight. He inaudibly pulled two gasoline filled spherical balls from his duffel bag before grabbing a small black remote control from the depths of the bag. He placed the balls onto the floor and watched as they leaked oil while his fingers determined their direction through the use of the remote control.

The quaint balls stealthily traveled in silence, secreting oil throughout the remaining bedrooms, the kitchen, bathroom, and living room without raising suspicions to either girl. Tyson altered the direction of the spheres, safely rolling them back to himself. He lifted the now empty balls from the floor and placed them back into his duffel bag before scurrying back into the purple bedroom and slipping out of the window.

He stood outside of the home and took one last glance at the shadows of the two girls that remained inside of the kitchen. His fingers rubbed against the coarse box of matches that sat in his gloved hands. He quickly rubbed the cheap match against the box, immediately igniting it. Tyson took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he threw the lit match back inside, through the window.

He looked on as the purple paint, that was plastered onto the walls, became impossibly brighter as the fire illuminated the entire room in mere seconds, just before rapidly traveling throughout the rest of the home, destroying everything in its path.

As Tyson disappeared into the shadows of the night, his throat tightened as the frantic screams of the teenage girls filled his ears. The shrieks, pleads, wails and cries pierced through him like acid through flesh before eventually simmering down as death finally consumed them, trapping them in its unforgiving clutches. The sound of the crackling fire was soon the only one that broke through the serenity of the night.

Tyson made it back to his vehicle and got as far from the scene as possible, ensuring that by the time the smell of burning bodies hit the people in the surrounding area, he would be long gone. He only wished that the sight of the inflamed house, the sound of the screams, and the smell of the corpses were just as easy to get away from.

He shakily pulled his burner phone from his pocket and pressed it to his ear before steadying his voice once the overseer answered his call. "It's done."

Hey, y'all, I wish you all a safe and happy new year! Also, I hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote and comment! 🤗