The Way to Hell

Chapter Three: She's a Maneater

World's most ironic anarchist.' she snorts. It would be his arrogance that will lead for bad decisions once again.

Her bike, however, will certainly be hidden in the thicket. Climbing up the mossy ground, Ingvild makes her way into the forest. The air becomes thicker and the sun is devoured by the trees the deeper she goes.

There, not too deep, against an old oak tree, stands her motorcycle with mud splashed all over the white paint.

"Prick," she mutters with a frown and pets the dirty surface of the bike as if it was a living creature.

She leaves it as it is for now, not wanting to raise suspicion in case August will return. At least now she knows of his whereabouts and the arousal for the kill begins to thrum through her warming blood.

*~*

The city centre is peaceful. With a population of about two hundred thousand and hardly any tourists this time of the year, he manages to enjoy a silent morning. His first stop is at some fancy clothing shop. He buys himself several tailored suits, neckties, and a pair of black Italian leather shoes. Trying on his new clothes in front of the mirror, he nearly feels like the man he used to be. Suave, confident, menacing.

Fully suited up, he picks a leather travelling bag on his way to the cashier and winks at the busty redhead standing behind the counter. His hungry gaze follows the blush that runs all the way from her neck down to her ample cleavage.

"Too bad, dear," August murmurs, never lifting his gaze while collecting the change along with his receipt, "At any other occasion, I'd love to fuck your tits."

The girl covers her mouth, muffling an ecstatic peal of giggles that bursts from her thick orange lips while August departs with another wink.

The digital hardware store is his next step. A new computer and a mobile device are in order if he wants to contact the apostles and fulfil his mission. Naturally, reaching them via regular means of communication won't be possible which is why he will need to access his old server at the Darknet.

That bleak and slimy pit, reeking sewage full of nightmares.

The first time August encountered the dark web was during an investigation when he was a junior agent. It was then when he discovered every horrifying evidence of the rot that exists in the system; human trafficking, modern slavery, government officials indulging in paedophilia.

Though, August wasn't phased nor was he mortified; he knew back then, these are the fruits of a sick world - a world that needed curing.

After picking up his electronic, he makes his final stop at the hunting gear lodge.

"Good thing this country approves hunting," he mumbles to himself while his eyes beam by the many rifles that hand on the wall, decorated by different antlers and dead animals hide.

'Never quite got the point of killing someone unarmed and unaware. Where is the glory?' He huffs with disrespect before approaching the man at the counter to request the gun and ammunition he will need.

Sitting at a half-empty gelato shop, Ingvild licks a strawberry cheesecake-flavoured scoop of ice cream while peering her silver eyes follow the bewhiskered man while he runs his errands.

The August that appears before her now is a different man from the one she met at the gas station; his messy bundle of curls is now combed neatly to the side, a dark grey suit and a tie decorates his firm posture and to finalise his elegant gait, he purchased the most expensive long coat he could find at the store.

'Such arrogance. Maybe he wants to get caught...'

Ingvild nibbles her bottom lip while carefully registering his behaviour, it dawn her that the strict and organized man might be the real him.