Part 1
The Past
Chapter 1
The Collector
Collection Complete
Rostov, Russia
The plan worked perfectly, and it went easier than I expected, considering the risk was higher. It was simple to isolate the other girls, but this one was never alone.
This made my job more difficult, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d let out the air in his right tire just enough to cause an issue but still be unnoticeable.
With the cold, snowy weather, it would take twice as long to change it out for the spare. I followed the family at a reasonable distance. I knew their fastest way home was along deserted back roads with sparse houses and minimal lighting. It was the perfect spot. All that remained was to approach, offer help, immobilize, and kill.
As I drove up to the disabled car parked off to the side of the road, the only light illuminating the dark sky was the glow of the car’s headlights and the man’s single flashlight.
Pulling up behind them, I hopped out of my car and walked toward him, concealing my weapon of choice. While a gun would be quicker, it would defeat the staging we’d planned. The night was silent except for my footsteps and the clanging of tools the man used to change his tire.
He had a heightened sense of awareness about him, glancing my way almost immediately. I’d noticed it earlier at his daughter’s dance audition. He should have paid more attention to his gut feeling. Now, however, it was too late.
“You look like you could use some help,” I stated, speaking in Russian.
“I’ve got it under control, thanks,” the man replied, dismissing me. With a tip of his head, he indicated to his wife to get back in the car.
“No you don’t,” I said.
The spotty cell service and his flat spare, courtesy of me, made it a given he didn’t have it under control. He stood as I raised the tire iron in my hand, and I brought it down across his head, knocking him out. I’d deal with him in a moment. I needed to take care of the woman before she could get away.
She hadn’t listened to her husband and was standing frozen at the front of the car when I turned to her.So stupid. This made my job that much easier. She screamed as I moved toward her.
A sinister laugh slipped from my lips as I hit her with the tire iron. Several strikes later, she lay there dying. The man moaned on the ground, and I walked over to him before squatting next to his head.
“Thank you for your contribution,” I said with a menacing smile. “Your daughter will make a lovely addition to our collection.” Grabbing him, I snapped his neck.
After finishing with the man, I checked the woman for a pulse to ensure the job was done. It wasalmosta shame the parents had to die, but the girl was closely protected, and we needed her. No matter the cost.
Grinning, I turned my attention to the car. The headlights were still glowing, illuminating the gruesome scene. The girl sat in the back seat, her eyes squeezed shut. I took several steps toward the car, wondering how much she saw before closing them.
The snow crunched underfoot as I whistled an eerie tune. I grabbed the door handle and found it locked. Knocking on the car window, I looked at the tear-streaked face of the little girl. Her eyes flew open, and she shook her head and placed her hands over her ears. Once more, she shut her eyes, trying to block everything out.Poor thing.
Raising the blood-drenched tire iron over my head, I swung it hard and easily broke the front passenger window. In one blow, shattered glass was strewn across the front seat, and I reached inside and unlocked the doors.
Grabbing her, I put the cloth to her face and watched as she breathed in the chemicals. She struggled, but her small frame was no match for me. Five minutes later, she finally went limp as the sedative took effect.
This wasn’t the first girl I’d taken, and everything went exactly the way I wanted it to. My plans were always strategic, and my approach was thorough. I looked down at the tiny, unconscious girl in my arms before returning to my car a few feet from her parents.
She would join the others. My ability to find my prized girls never failed me, and I had a feeling this one was going to bring us the most money. I’d studied her for over a year, and there was nothing I didn’t know about her.
Every aspect of her life, from the color of her bedroom to her favorite foods, was ingrained in my brain. On Mondays, she had ballet training, Tuesdays gymnastics, Wednesdays vocal lessons, and Thursdays and Fridays were all about specialized training in acrobatics. She had a tutor and didn’t attend traditional schooling.
I knew the grace she used when she moved across the floor and how her voice sounded in song. But her sheltered life had been irrevocably shattered in a mere second. If I’d had a heart, I might have felt for her.
Without so much as a grunt, I shifted the girl in my arms and wrangled open the door to the back seat. I gently laid her inside, fastened a seat belt around her, and took out my camera. The shutter echoed through the silent night as I snapped the first of many pictures I planned to take.
Documenting the growth and journey of my girls gave me the mementos I craved. I examined the small viewing screen, satisfied with the way it looked, and then closed the car door. Walking around to the driver’s side, I took a deep breath. A feeling of accomplishment ran through me as I climbed behind the wheel.
