Page 16

D on’t fear the unknown

As Azazel and Cherrie lay entangled in a post-coital embrace, the ambiance of the room is reverberating with the aftermath of their passionate exchange. The air is thick with the scent of their interludes, and the silence that follows is comfortably deafening. But this tranquil moment is suddenly ruptured by the intrusive buzz of Azazel's phone. With a curious frown, he reaches for the device, his eyebrows knitting together while he reads the message on the screen.

"Who is it?" Cherrie asks, her voice laced with a hint of concern.

Azazel's expression turns grim as he shows her the screen. It’s was a text from an unknown number, and the message sends a chill down their spines. "We're watching you, Azazel. We know what you've done, and we're coming for you. You can't hide from us forever."

The message is concise, but the threat it carries is clear. A sense of unease settles in the pit of their stomachs.

"Who the hell could this be?" Azazel mutters, his eyes narrowing. "I don't like this, Cherrie. I have enemies, but this feels different."

Cherrie sits up, the sheets pooling around her curves, her eyes reflecting the same worry that etches itself onto Azazel's face. "This doesn't sound like a random threat. They know your name, and they're implying they know about your past. Maybe someone from the organization?"

Azazel shakes his head, his green eyes intense and focused. "I've made sure to cover my tracks. No one should be able to trace anything back to me. This is personal, and that's what worries me. Plus, the organization doesn’t send threats, they carry out promises."

The unknown sender remains silent, leaving them with mounting anxiety and a slew of unanswered questions. The following day, as Azazel and Cherrie prepare to embark on the next leg of their journey, another text arrives, delivering another dose of paranoia straight to their veins.

"We're closer than you think. Your little game of cat and mouse will soon be over. Prepare to face the consequences of your actions, Azazel."

This time, the message feels like a punch to the gut, leaving them breathless and shaken. Azazel's grip on his phone tightens, his knuckles turning white as he fights the urge to smash the device in frustration.

"This has to stop," he snarls, his eyes reflecting the rage that simmers within him. "I won't be toyed with. I need to find out who's behind this.”

Cherrie places a calming hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him despite the turmoil that rages within. "We will, Baby. We'll figure this out together. But for now, we should lay low and be cautious. Whoever this is, they're trying to unnerve you, and it's working." Azazel takes a deep breath, his possessive nature warring with his rational mind. He knows Cherrie’s right; they need to keep a low profile and employ the very skills that make him a formidable hitman. But the thought of someone stalking them, someone who knows about his past and his penchant for darkness, sends a thrilling–yet unnerving–sensation down his spine. Over the next few days, they traverse the country in an attempt to lose their mysterious pursuer. They check into seedy motels, always paying in cash, and keep off the radar as much as possible. But despite their efforts, the text messages keep coming–each one more menacing than the last.

"Your time is running out, Azazel. The noose is tightening. Can you feel it? We can see you, even in the shadows."

"You think you can hide, but we're everywhere. Your little companion should watch her back. Accidents happen."

Each message strikes a nerve, intensifying their fears and fueling Azazel's determination to unravel this enigma. The unknown sender seems to take pleasure in toying with them. It’s a world he and Cherrie eagerly embrace, but even she feels a tinge of hesitation as the threats become more specific and violent.

As they hole up in a dingy motel on the outskirts of a small town, Azazel's normally unhinged demeanor transforms into one of focused aggression. He spends hours analyzing the messages, searching for clues that might lead them to their tormentor. Cherrie, ever the adventurous partner-in-crime, suggests they use their own brand of twisted tactics to strike back.

"Let's play their game, Az," she purrs, her eyes sparkling with a dangerous light. "We can turn the tables on them. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Cat and mouse is our thing anyways, Babe." Azazel's eyes light up at the prospect, and a devious smile curves his lips. "You're right, Cherrie. It's time we show them we're not easy prey. Let's give them a show they'll never forget. Until we figure this out we can’t even depend on the bosses in the organization. But there are some members I trust with my life." Over the next few days, they craft a plan that capitalizes on their shared love for the taboo and their willingness to traverse the boundaries of conventional morality.