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A Worse Idea 76

Anne sat in her Physics classroom, completely ignoring the blathering professor. This was par for the course as far as Anne was concerned. After all, the  professor was quite the blatherer and she really didn’t give a shit.

The odd thing about the scenario was where Anne directed her attention. She wasn’t scribbling wild ideas for impossible machines in her notebook. Nor was she staring off into space, imagining her fist ripping through Galactic Man’s skull.

Not even guilt was with her, in that moment.

Instead, sitting near the back of the lecture hall, Anne kept her gaze on her phone, which she kept in her lap, hidden from the professor.

(The professor knew Anne was on her phone, of course. He just didn’t care, so long as she didn’t flaunt how much more interesting the damn phone was, when compared to his drivel of a lecture.)

Three things made her phone so interesting to her on that day.

Thing one: she’d figured out how to get into the Killer’s Gallery app. The whole interface was fascinating, and she enjoyed looking through all the assassin’s profiles. She wondered what had led all these various folks — the freaks, the meatheads, the madmen — to kill.

In a way, she felt like she was looking at a gallery of kindred spirits. The only difference was that she was an amateur, whereas these guys were professionals.

Plus, she reminded herself, she’d been backed into a corner. She hadn’t wanted to kill Ricky and David.


Thing two: In order to view the app as someone else, she’d had to steal some poor sap’s identity. The poor sap wasn’t actually poor in this traditional case, but his identity had been stolen, which made him a bit of a sap.

He was some Estonian guy named Heino, and Anne had no idea why he wanted to kill people. She found it fascinating, though — impersonating a killer, while having no idea what his motive could be.

Thing three: Heino had made contact with a Hispanic hitwoman named Griselda. This woman was now messaging Anne (though she thought she was messaging Heino.)

The chat box popped up on the phone screen.


Anne’s hand hovered over her phone. Why did she want to confirm the kill?

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