Somewhere in
Chicago, at two in the anti-meridian, two men were talking amongst themselves inconspicuously.
They wore suits and ties, looking rather sharp, prim and out of place in the
forest. Some twenty or thirty yards in front of them walked a man, unbeknownst to
the fact that he was being followed. The man in the front wore a suit too, but
it was blue, unlike those of his stalkers. The man seemed composed and normal,
as if he was used to walking in the woods alone at two hours past midnight. But
only he knew that he was pale and trembling within, filled with fear from head
to toe. The only sign of fear that he exhibited was when he looked back once,
his eyes searching for something- or maybe someone, as if he doubted if he was
alone. The attempt was in vain, though, since the two men had blended into the
night as if they had vanished and never had been there.
The man
continued onward for some time, his stalkers following him watchfully, aware of
his every move and talking among themselves in hushed whispers. The scene continued
uneventfully until one of the black suits pulled something out of his pocket.
The item in question seemed to glint in the dark. Before you ask, no, it was not
a knife. It was a handkerchief. Dipped in chloroform. The black suited men advanced
toward their unsuspecting prey and pounced. The man struggled but seemed to
weaken his efforts gradually. After about two minutes or so, the men removed
the handkerchief, leaving the man barely conscious. One of the two men took out
a knife from his inner coat pocket and proceeded to cut the man’s chest with
the precision and accuracy of a master surgeon. The other watched, his eyes fixated
at the gruesome scene, as the former tore open the man’s chest, whose breathing
had, by now, become labored. The patient started whining as the men went
through their autopsy, slowly removing parts of his body and storing it in
coolers they had previously hid behind a bush. The man slowly accepted his fate
and gave in to death.
The men
continued to work in silence. They cleaned everything up efficiently, not
spilling a drop of blood on the forest floor. They used a tiny machine to drain
out the blood in the body, which they stored in what seemed like plastic bags.
Sewing back the body, the first man got up. The second, However, spent a minute
looking at the morbid scene.
“Why him?”
“He messed
with the wrong people.”
“What, the
government?”
The man who
was standing remained silent.
“Are you
not of the government yourself?”
“They said
he too had many questions.”
The curious
man started to ask something else, but wisely decided to keep his trap shut.
The two men turned back, their torsos straight, military trained, as they
marched back the way they came.
Little did
they know they would soon have nothing to go back to.
