Infringement Read Online Free PDF Page B

the street again and still seeing no lights or other signs of life, he moved slowly toward the man again, staying in the shadows close to the building facades.
    He stopped and ducked into an unlit doorway about 60 feet away from the man, took out a pair of black leather gloves from one of his coat pockets, and put them on. Next, he gently removed the perfectly polished and sharpened hunting knife from the inside pocket of his military coat. The 12 inch metal blade glistened ever so slightly in the night. Stanton closed his eyes and readied himself. He breathed in slowly, he breathed out slowly. He breathed in again, even more slowly, more measured, then let his breath out again, controlled and calm, but with a quiet fury burning deep within him. With each breath, his mind focused more pointedly on the scum digging through the trash, on the dirt-ridden and matted excuse for a human being who’d had the audacity to tell Abaddon’s servant to move the hell along.
    Stanton felt his limbs tightening, steadying themselves for battle, preparing his body to release the just and righteous fury building to a crescendo within him. He gripped the knife tightly in his hands and closed his eyes to envision the long metal blade sliding smoothly into its victim.
    “Abaddon, great one, give your servant the strength to fulfill your mission,” he whispered into the cold. “This, the first blood I’m about to shed, the first fruits of my coming harvest of blood, I dedicate to you, the Destroyer, Abaddon the mighty.”
    Stanton ducked deftly back onto the street, immediately locking his eyes like a killing machine onto the silhouette now standing erect in front of him, unwrapping something he’d apparently found in the trash. He moved swiftly toward the man, feeling as though he was practically gliding. When he was within about five feet, the man either heard or sensed that he was no longer alone and turned around to see Stanton bearing down on him. A second later, Stanton was upon him and immediately thrust the hunting knife deep into the man’s stomach, dropping him to the sidewalk instantly.
    Stanton swooped down onto his knees above the man, who was writhing on the concrete, and looked into his eyes, which, to Stanton’s great joy, were an indisputable mixture of terror, pain and disbelief.
    “Take solace in that you are blessed to be the first among many,” Stanton whispered into the man’s ear.
    Then, with one fluid precise left-to-right movement with the hunting knife, David Stanton slit the man’s throat, and sat above him watching the last warm breath wriggle meaninglessly from him into the cold night air. Where seconds before, the man’s eyes had been overflowing with emotion, they were then completely void in every respect. This change fascinated Stanton to no end. He stared into the lifeless eyes below him, fully cognizant of the fact that
he
had taken the life and emotion from them. An unexpected sense of pride and power came over Stanton. He was worthy of the task before him, truly he had been born for it.
    Sensing it was time to move before someone happened by, Stanton pulled out his iPhone and quickly took a close up picture of the man’s blank eyes. He then collected some of his blood in a small plastic medicine dosage cup, and held the full cup up to the night sky.
    “I pray that you now find your servant worthy,” he said still looking to the sky. David Stanton took the cup to his lips and, with great satisfaction, drank the man’s blood. The salty taste on his tongue and lips only whet his appetite for more.

Chapter 8
    December 21 st
    “Declan, are you ready? We’re going to be late for our range time.”
    “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Declan replied while locking his computer.
    “So, what did you think of Bleeker’s initiative this morning?”
    “It seems ambitious,” Declan responded. “I’m not really sure how it’s going to play out in practice, but it is ambitious.”
    “That’s not