Act 3

Gideon's phone rang just as he had downed his third glass of scotch. He cursed quietly; after what he'd heard about the mystery girl in the woods, he wanted to get as drunk as he could manage. However, it seemd his boss, Renaldo, or "Red", had other plans.

"You're areas been hit. I'm sending you the co'ords. Get to it, Gideon." Red's voice was curt and deep, and his instructions just as straight to the point as ever. Red was the only one he'd ever take orders from. Otherwise, Gideon gave the orders, and those he commanded did what he asked without question nor hesitation. It was just how it worked. With a heaving sigh he checked his text and stood, thanking the owners and grabbing his coat.

It was another of those gruesome hits. Lately, a string of murders had been occuring all across California, moving up from the south. Each one was a bloody mess, and hardly ever did any of the targets know each other in anyway. There were only two things in common. The blood on the wall spelled out a word, and the victim had some kind of shady background. There was no discrimination between man and woman, either. He walked quickly to the address he was given, the twon was small and he was only a few blocks away. He thought about the crimes, and his own job. He did the work no one else really could do. He was a hit man, a cleaner, he hid disturbing events from the public, he could hunt down a leak and make sure it was stopped. He could infiltrate the pentagon, kick with the guards and leave undetected, just for the hell of it.

Two black cars with little flashing lights and no sirens were waiting at the small two story home. Joining his two teammates whose names he didnt even remember, he went to the kitchen. As was the trademark of these murders, the wall was covered in bloody writing, and two bodies sat side by side in a grotesque parody of a normal family dinner, complete with cooked food and an overdose of alcholic beverages. Gideon's black eyes perused the bloodied wall. In an almost neat cursive, the word "Murderers" were painted. He turned to the murdered couble. The man's hands were only bloodied stumps, probably dipped in some kind of acid. Looking under the table, his feet were the same. The woman's eyes were gouged out, and judging by the item on the plate, her tongue was -probably- missing. A cut in the shape of a heart was etched into her chest as well.

"Who are the Vics?"

One of his men responded. "Married couple by the surname of Angeloutte. Two children, ages 5 and 2, younger passed a few months ago. Supposedly it was accidnetal consummation of anti-freeze."

Gideon's eyes looked back up at the bloodied wall. "Who ever did this doesnt think it was an accident, Im guessing." He paused, furrowing his brows. "Have you guys checked for the other child?"

"We checked the rest of the house except the basement. We believe its been wired, and decided to wait for you."

Gideon raced over to the hallway and inspected. A tiny, almost invisible wired did indeed cross the door at many points. He and his men, advanced as they were, would be the only ones able to see it, so it was rigged for someone to make it tighter by opening the door. It was as simple as cutting the wires to get in, and he wondered if it had been done on purpose and why. Deciding to risk it, he quickly snapped the cords, carefully opening the door and standing against the wall next to it, incase there was some surprise. When nothing happened he looked down the stairs, and there was a soft light.

Treading quickly but carefully, Gideon found a large bed at the bottom, a four poster made of mahogany and cherry wood, with black drapes encasing what was within. Cautiously, he slowly drew the curtains back. A small boy sat in the center of the bed, a loose blindfold around his eyes and dressed in very comfortable and elegant black pajamas, grasping a white teddy bear dressed in black and red clothes and a red top hat. When he undid the blindfold, the child only smiled softly, as if relieved. Gideon saw no fresh wounds, but the boy was riddled with old scars and fresh bruises and small cuts.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Gideon picked the boy up, holding him gently. The litle boy looked at him curiously.

"Are they dead?"

Gideon hesitated, then nodded slowly, not wanting to lie to the child. He was taken aback when the child only msiled more.

"Good. Then I'm okay now. The angel kept her promise."