Assassinator wins. Or does he...... Part 2

“Amy!” The teacher asked, while doing a head count. A hand moved up swiftly.

“Tom!” The teacher repeated with Tom. “Tom!” the teacher repeated. Oh, I almost forgot to put my hand up. I hurriedly put it up.

             You see, I was Rotanissassa Eht, not Tom Swen, who was a high school student. But I was forced to do that. I masqueraded as multiple people before since I decided to become an assassinator and escaped prison.

             Here’s the logic of how it works, based on my detailed planning. When you kill someone, you imposter them. Everyone will think that you were the real person. I mean, you don’t suspect that everyone around you are imposters, do you? It will take a while to realize that the murder victim is dead, and by then, my road will be clear of obstacles, enough to flee before the case is solved, leading to dead ends for most of my cases, or innocent people getting charged for my murders.

             The teacher continued the head count. Urgh, I wanted to leave this place tonight! That teacher will be bringing me to the discipline master for some random lecture on attention. But I was attentive. Tom wasn’t even my name!

             I pulled out the knife from my pocket. I was going to leave this every lunch break. I took out a sketch of the vicinity. Mapping out everything made it much easier. A pencil lead ran across the page, heading from Gate 3 of the school, straight to the Main Square, then to the statue which I called Nameless Statue. From there, it would be easy to head to the Main Square, which leads easily to the mansion with my private jet in it.

             I told my pilots to fly me straight to a desolate village which I knew. There was only 200 people in there, and it would be easy to kill in the night sky. I then use the bodies as ritual sacrifices. Then it continues to go on, the survivors of my attack encourage to kill to vent their anger on others. That was why I had started killing.

             I played the news on my phone, who was being told by a male reporter. He looked muscular, and was definitely worth a challenge, to see if he could fight me off before I killed him. I was getting stronger from every prison I escape. I was an excellent escape artist, a person stronger than the most muscular person on earth and a perfect person of disguise.

             “Welcome to ABC news report. Today the main topic of our news is regarding the search of The Assassinator, which will be conducted by his past survivors. Well, we all know he is a master of disguise, and thus they shall practice Shoot At Sight. I turned off the news. That guy didn’t even realize he just made a Grammatical Error. But the words played repeatedly in my mind. Search… Shoot At Sight… I really freaked out, and told the pilots to keep in the air and fly to an isolated place out of this country.

             “There will also be planes patrolling the borders to ensure that he doesn’t leave.” I had just realized that I had turned the news back on.

             “Just land here.” I told my pilots, glancing down at the village which we had arrived at. It didn’t really look like it was a bait. After all, I have evidence to back myself up. That was Tom’s passport. Another thing to note is he looks like my twin, so I would have no problem with that. They were probably not real guns anyway. The moment I landed, the pilots flew the plane away with my lavish clothes in it. The point was for it to be shot down by the border patrol. And they will think I’m dead with my clothes in the plane.

I lived an ordinary life in the village for a few days, aching that I had no knife with me . I even got some of the villagers to give me their clothes and side with me.

“Hey! Aren’t you The Assassinator?” A bunch of man charged through the door and threw the question straight at my face.

             “No, not!” A woman came forward beside me. “He is my son!”

             “Yes, that’s right! I was the one who helped to give birth to him!” exclaimed the village doctor. Following suit, I was praised for being the fastest runner in the village to carry buckets of water from the handpump to the village. The men had no choice but to go after they heard that a private jet with my clothes was shot down. I got away scot-free again.

             “No wait! He looks just like The Assassinator. Let’s fit him into his clothes to check it out.” Someone from the back called out.

             “No not now. He needs to get a bucket of water for me. I am thirsty.” The woman said. I ran with superhuman speed to the handpump.

             “He is the fastest runner in this place.” One of the men commended. “Let’s leave.” He said while the others turned around and left.

             It was really a close shave this time. I gave everyone a big thumbs up, who smiled. The deal was so. I ran to get each household 30 buckets of water. I ran straight back to my hut, lucky that I had got away. I played the news again.

             “Welcome to ABC news report. Today the main topic of our news is regarding the search of The Assassinator, which will be conducted by his past survivors.” The news reporter was the same reporter who said all his lines with gusto. “The menace of the country was finally removed, after a plane with his clothes was shot down.”

             I was somehow spared, with the dark arts merging in a combination, resulting in a total collapse of any object which tried to pierce through. The combination of dark arts is the worst thing that can ever happen, but the best for those dark themselves……