Dominant culprit

” do you mind having breakfast with me,”

The lady was stunned by her request, ” Uhm no, I am dieting,” she said, faking a smile, this aroused suspicion in Claire’s heart.

” Do you know Darrell’s mother,”

The lady began to feel anxiety grow within her as she adjusted uncomfortably on the couch.

“Uhm, he’s mom, he doesn’t have a mother,” she said blinking vigorously, Claire had her brown orbs glued to her body now, searching her guilty heart for answers, the pressure between them was getting heated up as Patricia felt rooted to the chair.

” Is their poison in this food?” she asked, as she removed long and steamy potatoes from the set of junk they had brought, I think so, why don’t you take a bite

“Told you I am dieting, I have work to get back to bye?” She said, stabbing herself on her heels, before exiting through the elevator, this was all Claire needed to know that the culprit was protected by vicious, ruthless, and cheap mother hens.

Claire stared at the food on the floor, they were all her favorite junk food, and they were poisoned. She sighs, takes the clothes, they look new, she puts them on, it was a weird mission when she was the target, by her target friends and family.

She picks up her phone and chats with Marley about the situation, and this was sent to the headquarters as a report, the agent has enemies within, and then Marley sent some food over to Claire, just an hour after the complaint.

Claire sat back on the couch reminiscing all the information she had gotten for the day, she had thought her culprit, was more of a saint, than a drug dealer, but he was also a bloody murderer, he wasn’t in the bar for drinks, he was there because he wanted to kill someone, why else will an introverted drug dealer be in a public bar?

Clair sat back on the couch and had been feeling claustrophobic. She wasn’t so used to sitting around but can’t move around as she might be tracked by Darrell, she knew her desperate act will bring nothing but suspicions so she decided to sit by and observe.

She takes her phone and walks around the house, looking for anything at all that could be a little dent in his career and mask, it isn’t a crime to get that hell job done in days she thought as she paced around the house.

It was an oddly big apartment, with a soft English interior. It looked like a family house, where a happy large family was supposed to leave, but some patch of dust on the wall meant no one had lived here in a while. She ran her hands through every door knob.

some were locked, what might be beside this door that makes it locked, and the keyholes were all rusty; it hasn’t been open for a while now.

Then she came across one door, which creaked when she touched the door knobs, it was left open, she opened it, and peeks right through, the lights were shut down, the scent of paint filled the air, it felt toxic to breathe in, it was everywhere.

She pushes right through as she finds the light switch in the dark ” gotcha” she said as she felt the switch on her fingertips, she turns on immediately, and a black room comes into view.

The light had exposed everything beneath it, as multiple boards came into view, all had images on them. It was like an art gallery. Claire was stunned by this as she covered her mouth with her palms. She walked closer to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination.

There were lots of paint brushes, paint buckets, and a Bluetooth speaker, Claire walked slowly towards the paints, and she ran her hands on the paint brushes, they were smooth and soft. She wasn’t into art but the look of the rust was obvious it was expensive.

She stares at the images on the stand, it was a picture of a child, both a girl and a boy, holding hands with a guardian, they were staring at each other, the boy had dark hair, a beautiful smile, and a flower in his hands, the lady had brown eyes, it was like a split rainbow with so many colors just like the multiple colors in a guardian.

The little girl had freckles on her nose, her hair was red, and she looked beautiful, and Claire stretched her hands running her fingertips on the picture, which made her emotional. She had no idea how her childhood was, no friends, nothing, just like she had started to leave when she was five.

Her name was Claire Anderson, so Lorenzo said, her heart beating rapidly as she saw more of his painting. It had gradually become a horror movie, she looked further, trying to read the meaning of it, it was a house on fire, with pictures of shattered glasses.

Everything look so real sending shivers of fire down her body, now she can see the little boy with the color of different eyes, tears pooling down his cheek, he had a girl in his arms in his hands, that’s a horrible image to look at, then there’s another, it all looks bad, and there it is the final painting but the girl is not there.

The boy is on the ground laying lifeless with blood pooling beneath him, is this a story? Or it’s just different shades of one painting? Weird everything about Darrell is weird. She thought to herself as she surveyed other paintings.

Most of them were gardens and flowers, why should a drug dealer have such? In his House, the elevator door rings, signaling someone is at the door. She closes the door, rearranges the brush, and makes her way down the stairs, then towards the elevator.

There he was in an elevator, in a cloak, did he go for play? Claire thought to herself, as she looked at his murderous face, a dark aura filled the room, and as he stared at Claire, ” good day harry potter” she teased, he ignored her, making his way to the room.

” where the fuck are you coming back from?”

” fraternity ”

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