Infringement Read Online Free PDF

soon to come to the whole world, he’d already accomplished. The second stage was his virtual training, which he engaged in daily. While he acknowledged the value and essential nature of his virtual training, no matter how realistic the simulation, it could never substitute for killing a real flesh and blood human being. David Stanton had never killed anything substantial before and he couldn’t leave such an important detail to chance. He couldn’t run the risk of freezing when the time came to seize his glory, and risk the humiliation of failing in front of his anticipated world audience. Quite simply, Abaddon had to know, beyond the shadow of any doubt, that David Stanton could kill and, more importantly, would kill without hesitation. Thus, stage three of his plan.
    In the early evening Stanton double checked his equipment, then dressed in a shabby, intentionally dirty, second hand military jacket, nondescript black t-shirt and worn jeans he’d picked up for $1.00 at Goodwill. The outfit hadn’t been washed in two months, despite multiple wears, intentionally carrying the strong distinctive scent of body odor. Once dressed, Stanton stuffed a shabby unkempt high-quality brown wig and a dirty faded baseball cap into a small brown paper bag and headed out.
    He walked over a mile from his apartment to a bus stop he’d scouted and knew to be generally deserted most nights. Most importantly, the bus stop featured a covered partially-enclosed seating area, which was only dimly lit at night. Stanton ducked inside, took the wig out of the brown paper bag and applied it over his own closely-shaved hair. He put the baseball cap on over the wig and threw the paper bag into a trash can. A few minutes later, the No. 202 bus, which was headed downtown, stopped and let Stanton board.
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    The downtown streets were frigid and mostly deserted. Stanton walked deliberately through the biting cold, being sure to take in anything happening around him. Generally, things were quiet and still, but every so often a car would pass a bit too slowly or he’d notice another pedestrian moving about. Whenever he saw signs of life, another person out on the streets, he paid close attention and quickly assessed whether the situation fit his various conditions. In most instances, for one reason or another, it didn’t.
    After walking for about thirty minutes, Stanton decided to veer off onto a small side street when he heard someone sneeze. He walked slowly, looking around for the source of the sound, until he finally saw a single silhouette leaning over a trash can about a hundred feet in front of him. Stanton stopped and watched the silhouette for a few seconds, then looked around the rest of the street to see if any lights were on in the surrounding buildings or whether there was any other movement on the street. Seeing nothing, he slowly approached the silhouette, still leaning over the open trash can.
    “Anything good in there?”
    The startled silhouette jumped slightly and turned around quickly to face Stanton. “You scared me to death, man. What the hell?”
    Stanton looked over the man standing in front of him. He was young, maybe in his early 20’s, but with an already worn-down and rugged face. He had a full light-brown beard and dirty matted hair which seemingly hadn’t been cut in quite a while. “Sorry,” Stanton replied. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    “Dude, you should know better than to come up from behind somebody like that. That’s not cool.”
    “Sorry. Forget I asked.”
    “Whatever. Why don’t you just move the hell along?”
    “Fine, I’m moving along.”
    Stanton turned around and began walking back in the direction from which he’d approached. The man watched him until he reached the end of the block and turned back onto the main street. A few seconds later, Stanton discreetly peeked around the corner to see the man’s silhouette once again leaned over the trash can. Looking around