The Death Of The Yacht

1633 Words Feb 11th, 2016 7 Pages
He was on the yacht. His name Kennedy Billings, but he was only known as The Collector. This is the man that travels the world killing people and collecting body parts. As he sat under the warm Caribbean sun he thought about his fortune. How he found the hole in the stock market and took advantage. Everyone hated him. The man that stole their money. But they didn 't even know who he was... what he was. Just fifteen miles away the man that would prove the largest adversary of the Collector was sitting at a bar in Key West drinking himself to death. His name was John Fish. Shot after shot of cheap vodka, numbing him from the horror of the world. As he sat there and thought to himself about his life and the stock market crash but just slurred senseless rants. As his phone rang he thought to himself and knew that this horrible vacation was over. As he starts to pass out falling off of his tiki bar stool he only has one thought. Who 's dead now? "The plane ride was smooth and the vodka was great!" He said to his colleague and partner at the world headquarters of Interpol in Lyon, France. His partner recoiled, considering he was a rookie not even old enough to drink, but with an intuition that could rival a mother grizzly. As the boss started to roll out the cork bill board filled with the evidence for the new case, John knew this would be different than all of the others. All the blood drained from the bodies and one body part…

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