A Killer's Field Day [Part C]

Oliver groaned as he woke up in his small, cluttered bedroom, the sunlight spilling aggressively through the thin, useless curtains. The obnoxious blaring of his alarm clock cut through his pounding headache like a knife.

He slapped the snooze button so hard the clock nearly toppled off the nightstand. "F***ing mornings," he muttered, running a hand through his messy black hair.

The room reeked of stale air and yesterday's half-eaten instant noodles. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a wrinkled hoodie off the floor, shoving it on before heading to the kitchen.

The place was no better—dirty dishes piled in the sink, an overflowing trash can, and the faint smell of mold in the air. His mom was already gone, probably at her second job. 

He poured himself a bowl of off-brand cereal, the milk teetering dangerously close to its expiration date. The first spoonful made him wince—it was borderline sour, but he ate it anyway.

His phone buzzed, it was a message in the group chat. Ethan had send them a message that said, 'Meet me at Central Plaza.'

Oliver stood up and took the bowl to the kitchen sink that was already overflowing from yesterday's dishes still unwashed and dirty. Plates with yesterday's food still stuck on it and cups with some mysterious liquid and Oliver didn't know what it was and didn't want to know.

Oliver stared at the mess in the sink for a moment, then shrugged. "Not my problem," he muttered, setting his bowl on top of the heap of disgust.

He grabbed his battered sneakers from under the kitchen table and slipped them on, the soles so worn they might as well have been paper.

His phone buzzed again. Another message from Ethan.

"Don't be late."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he muttered under his breath, stuffing the phone into his hoodie pocket. He grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and stepped outside.

The city greeted him with its usual blend of noise and grime. Central Plaza wasn't far, just a few blocks away, but the walk always felt longer when you had nothing to look forward to... and also when you were going to do something illegal the next day.

The streets were alive with the chaos of everyday life—honking cars, vendors selling questionable foods and drinks, and the faint sound of a street musicians' guitar somewhere in the distance.

As he neared the plaza, he noticed Ethan already waiting by the fountain. His trademark cocky grin was plastered across his face, and he was fidgeting with a pack of gum.

Jamie was there too, leaning against a lamppost with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking very jolly for a person who was going to rob someone tomorrow.

"You're late," Ethan called out as Oliver approached.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Oliver shot back, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Ethan smirked. "Good. Let's get started then."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Started with what exactly?"

Ethan's grin widened, and for a brief moment, Oliver wondered if showing up had been a mistake.

"We are buying supplies for tomorrow's... heist," Ethan said in an almost conspiratorial tone. 

Oliver narrowed his eyes clearly skeptical about this. "Where the f***k are we getting the money from?"

Ethan chuckled, pulling a crumpled wad of bills from his pocket and waving it in front of Oliver's face. "Relax, I got us covered." 

Oliver eyed the money suspiciously. "Where'd you get that? Don't tell me you robbed someone already." 

Ethan smirked. "Nah, my mom had some cash stashed away. Consider it an advance on her paycheck." 

Jamie let out a low whistle. "F***king risky move, stealing from your own mom. You sure she won't notice?" 

Ethan shrugged. "She's too busy cleaning up after rich assholes to notice a couple hundred missing. Besides, she's getting tips from Mrs. Nerss, so she'll be fine." 

Oliver sighed, already regretting his decision to show up. "Fine. So what's on this 'shopping list,' mastermind?" 

Ethan's grin widened as he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "Masks, gloves, and a bag for the goods. Maybe some snacks too. Can't rob a place on an empty stomach." 

Jamie snorted. "You're seriously planning to walk into a store and buy robbery gear? That's not suspicious at all now is it." 

Ethan rolled his eyes. "We'll split up. Go to different stores, spread it out. People won't connect the dots. It's not like we're buying ski masks and crowbars in bulk." 

Oliver shook his head but didn't argue. He knew Ethan wouldn't listen anyway Ethan was an immovable stubborn idiot. "This is so goddamn stupid," he muttered under his breath. 

"Stupid or not, it's happening," Ethan said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder. "Now let's get move. Time's ticking, and we've got a house to rob tomorrow." 

With that, the three of them set off, each heading in a different direction. Oliver couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut. Something about this whole plan felt off—more than just the obvious illegality of it. 

But as much as he hated to admit it, he was in too deep to back out now. They would make at least a few thousand if they were successful and that would help a lot.

******

Daniel sat at the sleek, polished dining table in the vast and overly pristine kitchen of the Nerss Manor. The room was bathed in the morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, giving everything a glow.

On the plate before him was an omelet, perfectly folded and adorned with sprigs of parsley, alongside a freshly baked croissant and a small bowl of mixed berries.

He scrolled through his phone with his free hand, checking the messages his mom, Sarah, had sent after landing in Paris.

Sarah: 'Just arrived. The flight was long but comfortable. Paris is as beautiful as I remember and please stay out of trouble.'

Sarah: 'And eat something healthy, no skipping meals! Love you, kiddo.'

Daniel smiled at the last message, taking a bite of his omelet. He appreciated his mom's concern, though it wasn't like he didn't know how to take care of himself in fact he knew many other things.

He sent a quick reply: 'Glad you made it safe. Don't worry about me; I've got it covered. Enjoy Paris, Mom.'

He set the phone down, taking a sip of orange juice as he looked out the window. The estate's sprawling garden stretched far and wide, trimmed hedges forming intricate patterns.

'Quite a peaceful day... peaceful is very boring. Peace is overrated. People think that peace is a divine, special... treasure. In all honesty it is just... boredom.' Daniel took another sip of his orange and he stood up from the dining table, stretching a little as he finished his orange juice.

He walked out to the parking and called one of the chauffeurs. 

"Yes Mr Nerss," a middle aged chauffeur asked.

"Can you take me to Central Plaza I need to buy somethings."

The chauffeur gave a polite nod. "Of course, Mr. Nerss. I'll have the car ready in a moment."

Daniel stepped back, watching the man move to prepare the car. As he waited, he glanced at the garden, the intricate patterns of the hedges momentarily catching his attention.

It was immaculate, yet it annoyed him. Everything around him was too pristine, too ordered and there were the bushes the patterns were mismatching and it was not ordered at all.

The sleek black town car pulled up to the front entrance, the engine humming softly. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the door for Daniel. "Your ride is ready, sir."

"Thank you," Daniel replied, sliding into the plush leather seat. The door closed behind him with a satisfying click, and they were on their way.

The drive to Central Plaza was relatively quick, the car gliding through the busy streets of the city like a shadow. Daniel sat in silence, his mind elsewhere. 

The city was on edge, the Owl killings dominating headlines and conversations. Fear hung in the air, almost tangible, and Daniel found it almost... addicting. 

"Will you be needing assistance with your errands, sir?" the chauffeur asked, breaking the silence.

"No, need," Daniel replied smoothly. "Just wait for me near the plaza. I won't be long."

The chauffeur nodded, pulling up to the curb near the bustling plaza. Daniel stepped out, adjusting his jacket as he took in the scene. The fountain at the center of the plaza sparkled in the sunlight, surrounded by people going about their day—shoppers, street performers, and vendors calling out their wares.

It was the perfect place to observe people. To study them. Buying things as well.

******

Ethan divided the money into three eighty dollars each. Oliver was to buy ski masks and baseball bats. Jamie would buy the bags, large ones to fit in all their stolen treasure. Ethan himself curiously went to buy... snacks.

Ethan smirked as he shoved the wad of cash into Jamie and Oliver's hands. "Eighty bucks each. Don't f***k this up," he said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder.

Oliver sighed, examining the crumpled bills in his hand. "Ski masks and baseball bats. Right. Because nothing screams 'not suspicious' like that shopping list," he muttered under his breath. "Might as well throw in a paper and pen to write a confession." 

Ethan ignored him, turning to Jamie. "And you—bags. Big ones. Something durable, nothing cheap that's gonna rip open the second we stuff it full of loot."

Jamie shrugged, pocketing the cash. "Sure thing, boss," he said sarcastically. "Anything else while I'm at it? Maybe some glitter to leave a trail? Or like Olie said a confession note." 

Ethan gave him a sharp look but said nothing. "You guys know the drill. Split up, different stores, no being seen together. We don't want anyone connecting the dots."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah. And what are you buying, genius?"

Ethan grinned, holding up his own wad of cash. "Snacks."

Jamie blinked, his expression blank. "Snacks? You mean, for the heist?"

"Exactly," Ethan said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You think we're gonna rob a house on an empty stomach? No way. You need fuel for something like this. Chips, candy bars, maybe a few sodas. The essentials."

"Right... very essentials things those are," Oliver said sarcastically. 

"Hey, I'm the brains of this operation," Ethan shot back, already walking off toward a nearby convenience store. "Just stick to the plan. I'll meet you guys back here in an hour."

Jamie rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he headed off toward the department store. Oliver stood there for a moment, shaking his head before trudging off in the opposite direction, already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment.

Ethan, meanwhile, entered the brightly lit convenience store with a swagger in his step. The smell of processed food and overly sweetened drinks hit him like a wave, but he didn't mind.

He grabbed a basket and began tossing in bags of chips, a few candy bars, and a six-pack of energy drinks. He even added a box of protein bars, feeling smug about his "balanced" choices.

As he approached the checkout counter, the cashier, a bored-looking guy in his early twenties, raised an eyebrow at the pile of junk food. "Big night planned, huh?" he asked dryly.

"You could say that," Ethan replied with a smirk, handing over the cash. The cashier shrugged, ringing up the items without another word. 

With his "supplies" in hand, Ethan left the store and leaned against a lamppost near the fountain, waiting for the others to return. His grin widened as he thought about the plan. 

Tomorrow night, they were going to pull it off. And if everything went according to plan, they'd be walking away with a haul big enough to change their lives—at least for a little while. 

******

Daniel walked into the Mall in the centre of the Plaza. As he went in he saw a boy he looked like he hadn't slept in days, messy hair and baggy eyes. Daniel looked at him for a moment and then went in.

The automatic doors of the mall slid open with a soft whoosh, and Daniel stepped into the brightly lit space. The air was cool and carried the faint aroma of cinnamon from the nearby pretzel stand.

People bustled about, some carrying shopping bags, others sitting in the lounge areas chatting or scrolling through their phones. Some were making videos for YouTube and TikTok.

Reaching the upper floor, Daniel walked into one of the luxury stores. A sales associate immediately greeted him, their tone overly polite. "Good afternoon, Mr. Nerss. How can we assist you today?"

Daniel gave them a small smile. "Just browsing. I'll let you know if I need anything."

As the associate stepped back, Daniel moved through the store, his fingers brushing against the fabric of expensive suits and leather jackets. He checked the prices and all of them were above a hundred and fifty dollars all luxury and exclusive.

"Imagine it... human skin as a jacket. Soft, supple—like lambskin, but warmer. More intimate. Can you picture it? A bespoke coat, tailored to absolute perfection. Every seam stitched with care, every fold a testament to someone else's existence. People always talk about wearing their hearts on their sleeves. But what about wearing someone else's skin instead? Their life story draped across your shoulders. All their worries, all their success, everything just covering... your body. Their life... quite literally, your fabric.