~Cole~

IF    Y O U    A S K E D    for a description for Cole Walker at this exact moment, you could receive many different answers. The best one would probably be, "feeling like a sea at storm."

Cole was furious. Waves of anger crashed over him like huge, relentless waves of saltwater crashing into rocks during a sea storm. His eyes were dark and scary, like the ocean during a hurricane, as he glared at the man in front of him with every bit of hatred inside of his body.

How dare he? Cole thought. How dare he do this and try to get away with it? His gun was pointed straight at the man's head, his arm as straight as it could go. His hands did not shake. His palms did not sweat. He showed no fear, felt no fear. Only burning anger.

"Where is she?" His voice was deadly low, sending chills down the man's back. But still, the man did not respond.

"Where. Is. She." Cole pronounced every syllable with more and more anger. 

"I don't know what you are talking about." The man finally responded. His voice squeaked at the end, and his tiny eyes watched Cole's finger as he rested the trigger on it.

"I'm going to give you one last chance." He muttered. "Where are you hiding my sister?"

Finally, the man gave in. "P-please don't kill me. She's in the basement of the house down the road. But you'll never find her. If you kill me, you'll never find her again."

"Is that a threat?" Cole muttered, staring at the man. His eyes were wide with fear, but also defiance. Cole sneered at this man. He was not getting away with this. "Listen here. You will never, ever, hurt my sister again. If you think I am going to accept your help after all that you've done, you are mistaken."

"Going to kill me, Cole? It's a bad idea. My team will get revenge." the man smirked.

"That won't happen, you see. I will kill your team just as I kill you." Cole muttered, his finger getting restless on the trigger. "Any last words?"

"You're not my son." the man whispered with hatred.

"I was never your son." Cole whispered with even more hatred. "I was never your son, after you killed my mother." And with that, Cole Walkers pulled the trigger.

***

This wasn't Cole's first murder, so he had some experience. After hiding the body and any evidence that was left behind, he took his father's gun and put it in his back pocket. That was Cole's mark. He would steal the enemy's weapon - and if they didn't have one, he'd steal their most valuable item.

Then Cole left the crime scene and ran down the street. It was a deserted road - no one had lived here for years. But at the very end stood a tiny, one story house. This was the only house on the road, so it could be the only place where his sister was being kept. He walked up the creaky old steps. His footsteps sounded on the porch.

First Cole tried to knock. Then he face-palmed himself. No one was going to answer. Instead, he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a shiny gold key, one he had stolen from the man he had just recently killed. He turned it in the lock, and it clicked, swinging the door open.

Cole removed his shoes first - they made too much noise - and then proceeded down the hallway, checking for any entrances to a basement. At the end of the hallway, he opened a door. Sure enough, there was a flight of steps that led to a lower floor that could only be the basement. Careful not to be seen, Cole lowered himself slowly onto the first step, and then to the second, and so on until he reached the bottom.

Two men's voices were speaking. Cole couldn't recognize them, but he knew they weren't good from their conversation.

"What were you doing? You were supposed to keep watch on her!" one said.

"No I wasn't." another replied. "You were on duty. I was watching TV-"

"Watching TV?"  the first said. "How could you be watching TV when you were supposed to be keeping watch on -"

"What does it matter if she's gone anyway? You put that tracking device on her, didn't you, Raymond?" the second one cut him off, irritated.

"Shut up." the one called Raymond ordered suddenly. "Be quiet, Thomas. I think I hear someone."

Cole didn't waste any time. He stepped out of his hiding place, and while Raymond was looking the other way, he pointed his gun at Thomas and shot him in the back of his head. The gunshot echoed around the room as Cole ducked behind a stack of boxes.

Raymond jumped around at the noise, his suspicious face morphing into anger at the sight of his friend's dead body. Then he walked right over to the stack of boxes, pulled his gun out, and walked right behind it.

"HA! I've got you now!" Raymond said as he peeked behind the boxes.

But Cole wasn't there. He had already gone around the room and was now on the other side. While Raymond looked behind the boxes, his back was turned to him. Cole pointed his gun straight at Raymond, and pulled the trigger for the third time that night.

Cole leapt up as soon as Raymond hit the floor. He didn't even bother to clean up the mess in the basement. He grabbed the mens' guns and ran up the stairs, throwing the door open and stepping into the cold night air.

The police could take care of the bodies. He could care less about Raymond and Thomas.

Right now, he had a sister to find.

***