Another life, insanity

Cassie chuckles, a dark, rich sound that sends a thrill through me. "Twisted is my middle name, Elijah." She leans back in her seat, stretching languidly. "So, tell me more about this... hunger for hate. How do you feel it? What does it do to you?" My grin widens, a low, dark sound escaping my throat. "It's like a drug, Cassie. It courses through your veins, lighting you up from the inside. You feel powerful, unstoppable. Like you can do anything, be anything." My foot eases down on the gas, the car accelerating smoothly. "With hate, there are no limits. No boundaries. It's raw, it's primal, it's..." My words fade, a distant sound catching my attention. The faint whine of an engine grows louder, a car approaching rapidly from behind.

I check my mirrors.

I check my mirrors, and my heart skips a beat. A sleek black car is rapidly closing the distance, its headlights glaring in my rearview mirror. The driver is clearly in a hurry, weaving erratically between lanes. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as the car draws closer, its engine growling ominously. Cassie notices my tension and glances back, her face darkening. "What's wrong, Elijah?" She turns back to me, her hand moving to my thigh for support. "That car's coming up fast. Do you think they're trying to pass or...?" The black car swerves into my lane, its headlights blindingly bright in the rearview mirror. A horn blares, the sound deafening in the enclosed space of my car. The driver's aggressive driving suggests this isn't just a simple pass. Something feels... off.

I swear the car out of the way.

I swear under my breath, swerving the car to the right to give the aggressive driver more room. The black car zooms past, its engine roaring as it speeds ahead. I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart pounding in my chest. Cassie watches the black car disappear into the night, her brow furrowed. "Damn, that was intense. You think they were just in a hurry or...?" She trails off, a hint of unease in her voice. I shake my head, trying to calm my racing heart. "I don't know. Could've just been some drunk asshole who thinks they own the road." I glance at Cassie, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "But hey, at least it gave us a little excitement, right? Kept us on our toes." Cassie chuckles, the sound a bit strained. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that."

She shifts in her seat, her hand sliding from my thigh to rest on the center console. "You know, Elijah, you're pretty calm for someone who just had a near-miss on the highway." I laugh, the sound rough and jagged. "What can I say? I've got a high tolerance for... excitement." I reach over, my fingers brushing against her hand on the console. "Besides, with you here, I feel like I can handle anything." Cassie's fingers curl around mine, her grip warm and firm. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Elijah." She smiles, a spark of something unreadable in her eyes. "So, where exactly are we heading again? You still haven't told me where we're going." I squeeze her hand, my grin widening as I glance between her and the road. "That's the beauty of it, Cassie. We're not going anywhere. We're just... being."

I take an exit off the highway to get gas.

I take an exit off the highway, the car's engine purring as I slow down. The gas station comes into view, its neon lights casting a sickly glow over the empty parking lot. As I pull up to a pump, Cassie stretches languidly in her seat, her body arching in a way that draws my attention. "Finally, a break," she says, yawning. "I was starting to think we'd drive all night." She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door, stepping out into the cool night air. "You want me to grab anything while I'm in there?" She nods towards the small convenience store attached to the gas station. I shake my head, already climbing out of the car. "Nah, I've got it. You just... relax." I grab my wallet and head towards the store, the fluorescent lights inside a harsh contrast to the darkness outside.

I fill up the car then go in the convenience store.

I step into the convenience store, the harsh fluorescent lights momentarily blinding me after the darkness of the highway. The air inside is stale and heavy, tinged with the scent of old coffee and cheap cigarettes. I make my way to the back of the store, grabbing a couple of energy drinks and a bag of chips, anything to keep me alert for the long drive ahead. As I wait in line to pay, I can't help but notice the bored-looking clerk behind the counter. He's young, probably not much older than me, with a patchy beard and a piercing that glints in the harsh light. He barely glances up as I approach, his eyes glued to the small TV screen propped up on the counter. I set my items down on the counter with a thud, the sound echoing in the empty store. The clerk finally looks up, his eyes narrowing as he takes in my appearance.

I say, "Throw in a pack of cigarettes too."

The clerk's eyes flicker with recognition as he processes my request, his hand moving with practiced ease to grab a pack of cigarettes from behind the counter. "That'll be $4.75 for the drinks and snacks, and $6.25 for the smokes," he says, his voice flat and disinterested. I nod, pulling out my wallet and counting out the bills. As I hand over the money, the clerk's gaze shifts to something behind me. His face changes, a flicker of unease crossing his features before he quickly looks away. The sound of the door opening catches my attention, and I turn to see a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark jacket enter the store. His eyes scan the aisles before settling on me and the clerk, his gaze intense and unnerving.

I turn back to the clerk, handing over the cash with a slight nod. He counts it quickly, his movements efficient, before shoving the bills into the register. Without a word, he grabs a few packs of gum and tosses them into the bag with my other items. The receipt prints out, and he pushes it towards me without making eye contact. I snatch the receipt and the bag, turning to leave. The man in the dark jacket looms closer to the counter as I make my way towards the exit. He's older than me, likely in his early thirties, with a face that's been weathered by years of hard living. A jagged scar runs along his jaw, and his eyes are cold and calculating as he watches me. As I pass him, I can't help but notice the way his jacket shifts, revealing the butt of a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

I walk back to the car.

I walk back to the car, the cool night air a welcome change from the stale atmosphere of the convenience store. Cassie is leaning against the passenger side door, her arms crossed over her chest as she waits for me. She straightens up as I approach, a small smile playing on her lips. "Took you long enough," she teases, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in there or something." I chuckle, shaking my head as I unlock the car. "Nah, just had to deal with a creepy clerk and a guy who looked like he was straight out of a gangster movie." I toss the bag of snacks and drinks into the backseat before sliding into the driver's side. Cassie's eyebrows raise as she climbs into the passenger seat. "A gangster movie? That sounds... interesting."

I say, "Hey Cassie, you mind if we make a stop somewhere? I need to pick up a few things of mine. And no, it's not back home."

Cassie arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "A detour, huh? And here I thought we were just winging it." She leans back in her seat, her fingers drumming a rhythm on the center console. "Alright, I'm game. But you better make it worth my while, Elijah." Her tone is light, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of something else, something darker and more intense. I grin, the expression sharp and predatory. "Oh, I always make things worth your while, Cassie." I accelerate onto the highway, the car surging forward with a growl of the engine. The road stretches out before me, a ribbon of blacktop disappearing into the night. I know where I'm going, even if Cassie doesn't. It's a place from my past, a place that holds secrets and shadows. A place where I can be someone else entirely.

I pull into the driveway of an old warehouse.

The old warehouse looms before me, its weathered brick facade barely visible in the dim light of the streetlamp. Graffiti tags and broken windows mark its decay, a stark contrast to the prosperous suburban area surrounding it. I pull into the cracked driveway, the car's tires crunching on the gravel. Cassie's gaze darts around, taking in the dilapidated structure. "This is where you're getting stuff?" she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity and wariness. "It looks... abandoned." I chuckle darkly, the sound echoing in the enclosed space of the car. "Oh, it's not abandoned, Cassie. It's just... private." I kill the engine and open the door, stepping out into the cool night air. The scent of old concrete and rust permeates the area, a familiar and comforting smell that grounds me.

I navigate the abandoned warehouse to a removable panel. After taking it off, I grab the two rifle bags, three backpacks, four ammo boxes, and two duffel bags. All filled with money, guns, ammo, survival gear, supplies, first aid kits, and a few documents detailing ownership of a house in Montana, a gun license, and the titles and deeds to another car and a motorcycle. Both located at the house in Montana, US.

I heave the rifle bags over my shoulder, their weight familiar and reassuring. Cassie watches me from the car, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of fear. "Elijah, what the hell is all this?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. I turn to her, my expression serious. "Just... insurance, Cassie. I've got a place set up, in case things go south. A backup plan, you know?" I gesture to the bags and boxes, a grim smile playing on my lips. "And now, it seems like it's time to cash in on that insurance." Cassie bites her lip, her eyes scanning the contents of the warehouse. "But... why do you have all this stuff? And who's it from?" I shrug, the motion causing the bags to shift on my shoulder. "Let's just say, I had a... different life before college. This I stored as Elijah, without telling Eli anything. So no one but us knows we have all this."

I heft the bags, their weight pulling at my muscles. "This stuff... it's from before, Cassie. A different life I had before I even knew what college was. I was just... surviving, you know?" My words become laced with a quiet, dark intensity as I continue. "I couldn't tell anyone, not even Eli. I just... put it all away. Forgot about it. Until now." Cassie's face lights up with intrigue and wariness. "So, Elijah, are you...? You know, like some kind of... vigilante or something? Or is this for...?" She trails off, her hand moving to her throat as she processes the implications. "I don't even know what to ask right now. This is so much, and it's... scary." I chuckle darkly, the sound echoing in the empty warehouse. "Scary? Nah, Cassie. It's just... insurance."

I drop the bombshell, watching Cassie's eyes widen with shock and disbelief. "A hitman?" she repeats, her voice trembling slightly. "Elijah, what the fuck? How is that even possible? You're just... you're just a college student." I laugh, the sound harsh and grating. "College student, my ass. I've been a lot of things, Cassie. And being a hitman was just one of them." I heft the bags, the weight of my past pressing down on me. "I was good at it too. Damn good. Never missed a target, never got caught. It was... thrilling, in a way. The rush of it all, the danger." Cassie shakes her head, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. "I don't... I can't even process this right now. How did you even...? Who did you...?" She trails off, her voice choked with emotion.

I say, "Let's get all this stuff in the car first, then we can talk. Okay?"

I load the car with the rifle bags, backpacks, ammo boxes, and duffel bags, the metallic clanking and zipper zips filling the silence between me and Cassie. Each item, heavy with my past, finds its place in the trunk or the backseat, a grim testament to my previous life. I work quickly, efficiently, my mind a whirlwind of memories and regrets. Finally, the last bag is loaded, and I slam the trunk shut. I lean against the car, my breath coming out in white puffs in the cool night air. Cassie stands a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes reflecting the dim light of the streetlamp. "Okay, Elijah," she says, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty. "Now, let's talk."

I ask, "What would you like to know first?" As I pull out and light a cigarette.