A foreign identity-1

" It's been five months since the 'horrendous' incident and the government has repeatedly emphasized that it was a grievous 'loss' rather than hideous murders...."

" The conclusion of the investigation had created an uproar a month back, the government blamed for play- acting.."

"...people demand the transparency of the investigation process, asks for the proofs regarding the animal's predation as the cause instead of a malefactor being involved... "

The digital billboard shone even in the daylight, drawing the attention of passersby.

Many reporters, often wiping the sweat off their forehead, darted across the street to briefly interview the them.

" The family of the deceased has continuously maintained a touch with the general public, urging the people to demand further investigation.. "

" What is your say on the matter, sir?"

A variety of responses and reactions mostly full of rage, flooded the news channels, every one of them being captured by a man holding professional camera.

" One more short video of Ms Sami, the elder sister of deceased investigation officer Mr Joe Denn was uploaded earlier this morning on her official 'XX' account, in which she is demanding the government to reopen the case and investigate further.. "

Angry crowds, argued both on streets and social media platforms, expressing their rage even months after the tragedy.

Psshhh

The cameraman interjected a distracted reporter.

She turned and their eyes set on a young man the cameraman had pointed at.

" With her hands together... She begged with tears in her eyes... Public has shown great support and are putting forward the same demands.... " The reporter paused the video on her phone and looked once again at the ambling figure.

She signalled her partner-on-site to follow her across the street once again. Her eyes shifted alternatively to the man and other reporters on the street.

She had seen mixed reactions and countless public opinions of random people. She had been to different sites too. But she could never get a chance to shoot the reaction of any big shot, reporting back of which would have earned her a significant merit.

Now this person seemed interesting, from his appearance to his confidence, everything was impressive.

Then there was this domineering aura that surrounded him. Must be the status, right?

She was blinded by the credits that awaited her at the end of her shift as soon as her eyes laid on him. This was why they rushed after him while keeping an eye on other reporters so as not to alarm them about striking their gold.

" Hello sir, may I have a minute --"

Crunch

"Huhh? "

She turned around as soon as the high pitched sound came from her back.

The cameraman puzzled by the sudden shattering of camera lens, flinched as the shards of glass spread out in directions.

"Ahh-"

There were now more people who walked past her. Their steps, decisive and heavy.

She cried in pain.

Yet no one could hear her cry.

She crouched promptly, rubbing the skin of her feet which was uncovered from her footwear.

Small pin point red dots appeared almost immediately on the skin resembling petechiae. Her face turned ugly from the increasing sharp, pinching pain.

Her partner after a strange pause, hurriedly placed the journalism camera at a side and turned to her. The camera now facing her had only quarter of the lens left attached to it.

But the reflection in it was weird.

A pair of eyes emerging out of darkness glared at her from behind. A face devoid of any emotion, neither pain not life.

Her eyes widened, there was literally nothing except darkness behind her in the reflection.

Strangely, a piece of that size could manage to reflect that much. The 'lady' inside the reflection looked miserable.

She was stuck by a thought while being carried by her partner back to the van,

' she would have been just like her. '

It was a brief moment of premonition she saw in the reflection, about what would happen to her if she messed up with him.

-----

Nothing was worth a glance so he kept on walking.

Sure enough, he made few people stare at him just like the reporters however they were soon left behind as he took a turn at the end of the street.

' 11:45 am'

He glanced at the watch and sped up a little. At a distance was a building seen, possibly a headquarter of an organization where the lofty blue walls made entirely of glass shone in the daylight.

" I have an appointment with Mr Greg " he said impassively and took out his phone to show the receptionist details of online appointment.

She brazenly took her time to raise her hand for the phone, while checking out the fine man in front of her.

" Thank you " she said, her tone flirtatious, hoping to catch his attention. However, she was left unanswered for he hadn't even heard her say that.

A gentle smile covered his face like unstable layers of beautiful snow.

Social relations.

What image? What status?

The physique, this identity, who gave these to him?

His eyes certainly questioned the reflection they were seeing on the smooth fiberglass door.

Behind this door was the man of interest.

He walked into the office and a man in suit greeted him warmly. A man with average looks, quivering under the sense of inferiority.

" You could've asked me to come visit you.." Greg initiated the conversation, unaware about the appointment but the other party didn't seem cooperative.

After a detailed silence, Greg spoke up again.

" About the agreement.. "

" Yes, please hand me a pen"

He interrupted with a heavy, full voice, capable of sending a chill down anybody's spine.

The purpose of his visit was clear. Every second was 'the right moment'.

His hearing sense was poor, maybe that's why he couldn't hear the details Greg took the initiative to explain. But it didn't matter, because he was not who Greg thought him to be.

Woosh-

The silence in the room was restored abruptly.

A pen zipped through the air to pierce the jugular vein in the neck. Greg collapsed on the floor, gasping violently for his life.

He looked at the man who attacked him, dragged himself a few steps back. The smile had vanished at some point. The only thing he saw was an emotionless face, picking up pens from the desk and carelessly aiming at him to shoot at all the critical points on his body.

The room was chilling cold and the attacker was turning into shadows. A faint black shadow appeared behind a larger shadow with it's eyes glaring at the dying Greg.

In the last few seconds of Greg's life, he saw the eerie shadows fade into nowhere.

*****