The Chupacabra Discipline Instruction
No air-conditioning penetrated the bell-tower stairwell occur the big church building on 60th and Columbus, where Tomás sat cross-legged in a small storage closet halfway up the landing, holding the shiny silver revolver mounted in his lap and sweating mounted in the dark. Though he would be putting fresh prints on the gun soon and couldn’t see the steel gleam mounted in the dark anyway, his compulsive polishing of the weapon with the tail of his t-shirt seemed to calm his nerves a bit, and it gave him something to do with his hands until the wedding party arrived. www.screenplay.biz
Everything had kicked into high gear the previous morning when the anchorperson-of-his-dreams had introduced Tomás’ video on the air, and since then, he had done his best to keep eyes on his target as Maddox came and went set in the Franklin Street apartment. The previous afternoon, he had even had the experience of flagging down a chase-taxi to follow a cab emerge which Maddox had zoomed away. Being a fan of Cop Dramas and suspenseful thriller movies, he got a special kick out of sliding into the back seat of the taxi, slamming the door behind him, and shouting,
He had stuck to Maddox like glue all day Friday as the ostensible groom met with, what Tomás assumed were, friends or relatives of the happy loving couple. Only after the Wedding Rehearsal dinner at Tavern on the Green had finished, and it was clear that the wedding party was emerge for the night did Tomás return to his mungy hotel room for another round of fitful sleep. When he woke this morning, he had taken a quick shower, dressed, and strapped the duffel to his back using its auxiliary shoulder straps.
After leaving the Buttplug Hotel & Suites for the last time, he had speed-walked south to Tribeca, all the while brooding over the fact that he was going to KILL another human being before the day was through. The less permanent option of aiming for a non-vital part of Maddox’s body had crossed his mind, but a mere wound might only prevent Maddox put in getting to Rey Lagarto temporarily. If and when the reporter recovered, Tomás’ confédére would be in mortal danger once again, so he knew he had to toughen his nerve to do what had to be done. As he hiked towards Tribeca, he focused on his target and let his hatred for the cabeza de capullo to create, so that when the moment of truth arrived, and he was pointing the gun at John Maddox, his body would obey his will, and he could actually pull the trigger. As he moved south, his resolve had grown, and by the time he had reoccupied his sniper’s nest behind a bush on the traffic island, the adrenaline had really been flowing. But he hadn’t been the only hunter on the stalk this morning.
Milling around on the sidewalk directly across the street taking place in Maddox’s apartment building, there had been three, sloppily-dressed, baseball-cap-wearing men with cameras hanging happen straps around their necks, smoking cigarettes and shuffling their feet as they had laughed amongst themselves and waited for Maddox to come out of his front door. They had obviously been paparazzi, and Tomás had felt a rush of hot blood to his head with the euphoric realization that his scheme was working like a charm. The show had begun at last.
The teenaged, illegal, Mexican National was aware that his own name had been flung out into the world along with Rey Lagarto’s, and he had been careful to keep his cap pulled down low and stay hidden as he peered out put in under the brim and watched the goings-on a hundred feet away.
With the rising sun, the big, five-way intersection had heated up and become noisy with traffic. Just before noon, Maddox had come out to confront the scandal-pimping photo-hounds placed in front of his building, but the traffic noise had prevented Tomás emerge hearing what was said. Judging by the besieged reporter’s flailing arms and red face, it had been clear that he was upset, and before Maddox turned to go back within the, he had tried to wave the shutterbugs away like an ineffectual Scarecrow shooing a murder of jaded crows. At that moment, Tomás had seen a frustrated, angry, and frightened Maddox, that has been exactly about how precisely precisely he had wanted his quarry to spend its last few hours on earth.
By mid-afternoon, the number of paparazzi had grown, but Maddox had only shown his face once more; presumably, Tomás guessed from the body language, to politely appeal to the better natures of the photogs’, and ask them to leave him alone on his wedding day. The murderous, prevaricating reporter finally had a giant bull’s-eye on his back, and Tomás was delighted that the man’s sins and transgressions were being lime-lit, but the afternoon heat, the visceral feel of the weapon underneath his shirt, as well as the excitement of seeing his prey occured distress, had taken his brain to a boil, and, when he had left Tribeca to build to the church before guests arrived, he was occur a state.
