Tales of the Parodyverse

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jack
Wed Jun 27, 2007 at 04:34:55 pm EDT
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Derek Keys
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                    Derek Keys
                 By Jack L. Bryson


    On a Sunday morning, Derek prepared for a job he had at a Cathedral in Philadelphia. His preparation was meticulous. On a table in Derek’s kitchen was a map of the area and photographs of the church including interior and exterior shots. There was the front entrance from Mercy Street. Derek would use this entrance, but he would exit from the West wing onto Porter Street after the parishioners cleared the building. His target would already be in his office on the second floor of the building well before mass started.
In Derek’s back holster was his Beretta 9mm with a silencer and a backup .357 in an ankle holster. He dressed in a nice blue suit for Sunday mass and wore a light brown trench coat to conceal his weapon. Before leaving his apartment, Derek went over his plans twice and rechecked his weapons. Then, he checked himself in the mirror. He looked smooth and inconspicuous like another churchgoer simply attending mass.
    Derek’s target was Cardinal Joseph Farris. The Cardinal was a thin, older man. He had white hair and brown eyes set deep in a gaunt face. For many years the Cardinal had alter boys visit him in his office before mass where he molested them. There was a police captain who attended the Cardinal’s church and knew this secret. The Cardinal paid the police captain off. About six months ago the payoffs ceased, and the police captain didn’t want to arrest the Cardinal, because he knew the Cardinal would tell the press and everyone about the payoffs. Someone in the captain’s department knew a guy who knew Nephilim, Derek’s alias, and a week later; the captain received a bid for the Cardinal job seemingly out of nowhere. Soon after, Derek received a note telling him his bid was accepted.
    Derek entered the Cathedral with all the other parishioners and quietly took his seat in a pew. The only contact he made with them was an insignificant nod or smile. After the Cardinal began the mass, Derek checked the time. He knew exactly how long the mass lasted from when the Cardinal opened the bible to the last hymn. When it was over, the old Cardinal left for his office using the same exit he had been for the last two weeks. Derek got up with the parishioners and pretended to make his way to the front exit amid the usual expressions, “Oh what a wonderful service,” “What are you doing for lunch?” etc.
    Alone in his office, the Cardinal shuffled over toward his desk. A nun had sent over a vase with flowers. There was a note attached and the Cardinal read it out loud. “To his eminence, please enjoy these new daffodils from our garden.” “Oh how delightful,” The Cardinal said. He picked up the vase and looked around his office. There was an empty lamp stand in the corner, which was the perfect spot for the flowers.
    Just outside the Cardinal’s office, Derek was ready to pounce. He had one hand on the doorknob and one behind his back, gripping his Beretta 9mm. The Cardinal was good as dead. ‘Just walk in and shoot the Cardinal. There’s no way you can screw this up.’ Derek said in his mind.
Inside the office, the Cardinal set the vase on the lamp stand and Derek entered, shutting the door behind him with a small slam. “Hello?” The Cardinal asked as he turned around. The force of the slam was enough to knock the vase off the lamp stand, shattering at the Cardinal’s feet. This startled the Cardinal so much that he began to have a heart attack.
    Derek witnessed the Cardinal clutch his chest and became horrified. “Oh no, not again. No, no, no, this can’t happen again.” He rushed over to the Cardinal’s side and helped him lay on the floor. “You can’t die right now. Come on, breath.” Derek performed CPR, but it was no use. The Cardinal was dead.
    “Damn it, damn it, damn it,” Derek said under his breath. He didn’t even get the chance to draw his weapon. It was thought that Derek Keys had killed 48 people, now 49, making him the deadliest hit man on the East Coast, but he never killed a single person. Through one accident or series of accidents, all of his targets died before he could eliminate them.
     Derek stood up and looked down at the Cardinal. He lay in front of his brown desk with his mouth gaping open and his eyes rolled back in his head. Derek panicked for a moment. He looked left and right for a clue as to his next move. No one was coming up the stairs, which was good. He decided to proceed with the plan just as if he shot the Cardinal. He left the body where it was and before leaving the Cardinal’s office, he made sure there was no alter boy coming down the hallway. Derek slipped into the hallway and then through an exit in the west wing of the Cathedral where he made his way onto Porter Street.
The following Monday Derek read in the morning paper that Cardinal Joseph Farris died of a heart attack. This had Derek very worried for a major reason. If the police captain found out that Derek wasn’t responsible for the Cardinal’s death, would he demand his money back or have an actual hit man come and take care of him? How many of his past employers would hunt Derek down if they found out he wasn’t the one who eliminated the targets?
    As he sat on the couch, sipping his coffee, Derek felt his cat brush up against his legs. He picked up the large black cat and dropped him on the couch beside him. “Do you think I suck at my job?” The cat was unresponsive. Derek wasn’t sure what to do next. He debated whether or not he should try and take out the police captain and suspected that might be futile.
    A knock on the door startled Derek. He heard someone drop something on his front porch and walk away. It was inevitable; Derek had to investigate. Carefully opening his front door, Derek looked down and saw a small brown box. He stuck his head out the door and looked around but no one was in sight. He picked up the package and carried it back into the house. After setting the package down on the coffee table, Derek took a deep breath and opened it with a penknife.
Inside the box were a dozen thick stacks of one hundred dollar bills and a note. Derek looked over the note, which read: “Excellent work, making it look like a heart attack.” Derek breathed a sigh of relief. The police captain just assumed he was successful in his mission. As Derek walked into the kitchen, found some matches and burned the note, he shook his head and thought to himself, “How does he think I killed him? With poison?”

















    
    
    
    



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