It was Christmas Eve, the night of joy and giving, but for me, it was a night of reckoning. The darkness outside seemed to mirror the emotions swirling within me. I stood in front of my mirror, adjusting my Santa Claus costume, the bright red suit and snowy white beard transforming me into a jolly old elf. But beneath the disguise, my heart burned with a different kind of cheer – a fierce desire for vengeance.
I checked the document paper in my hand, verifying the address one last time. Kingpin's home, a grand mansion on the outskirts of town, was my destination. The papers outlined the layout of the estate, highlighting potential entry points and security measures.
My mission was to deliver some special Christmas presents, gifts that would bring destruction and chaos to the man who had destroyed my family. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, but I steeled myself for the task ahead.
I patted my pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of the small bombs I had prepared. Planting them around Kingpin's home would ensure a Christmas morning he would never forget. The devices were cleverly disguised as holiday gifts, wrapped in colorful paper and topped with bows.
With my setup complete, I began the drive to Kingpin's mansion. The night air was crisp and cold, the stars twinkling above like diamonds. The GPS led me through winding roads, past festively decorated houses, until I reached the imposing gates of Kingpin's estate.
The mansion loomed before me, its grandeur and opulence a testament to Kingpin's illicit wealth. I parked my car a safe distance away, donning my Santa hat and grabbing the sack of "presents." The walk to the mansion was long and dark, the only sound the crunching of gravel beneath my feet.
As I approached the house, I noticed the guards patrolling the perimeter. My heart quickened, but I maintained my composure. Who would suspect a jolly old Santa of nefarious intentions? I offered them a warm smile and a nod, playing the part to perfection.
I began planting the bombs, carefully placing them around the mansion's foundation. Each device was carefully timed to detonate simultaneously, ensuring maximum destruction. My hands moved swiftly, precision guiding my every move.
With each bomb placed, my sense of satisfaction grew. This was it – the moment I had been waiting for.
As I finished, I stood back, admiring my handiwork. The night was still, the only sound the distant laughter of children and the soft hum of Christmas lights. The mansion's windows twinkled like stars, unaware of the chaos that would soon erupt.
But in a few hours, this peaceful scene would shatter into chaos.
I gazed at the guards, their alert eyes scanning the perimeter of Kingpin's estate with a mix of diligence and holiday fatigue. The crisp night air carried the scent of pine and wood smoke, a stark contrast to the darkness brewing within me. My Santa disguise had granted me access, but I knew it wouldn't last forever. To ensure a clean escape, I needed to neutralize these sentinels.
Reaching into my sack, I pulled out two thermoses filled with steaming hot Christmas juice, adorned with festive holly leaves and a sprinkle of cinnamon. The guards' eyes lit up as I approached, their faces softening at the prospect of a holiday treat.
"Merry Christmas, gentlemen!" I exclaimed, my voice jolly and warm, infused with the spirit of the season. "I brought some holiday cheer to keep you warm on this chilly night. It's a special recipe, passed down from my North Pole elves."
The guards exchanged skeptical glances but couldn't resist the offer. Who would refuse a gift from Santa? They took the thermoses, their hands cradling the warm containers as if embracing the promise of comfort.
I handed each guard a thermos, watching as they unscrewed the lids and took generous sips. The drugged juice would kick in soon, rendering them unconscious. I had carefully crafted the concoction, ensuring it would knock them out without leaving a trace.
As they drank, I engaged them in small talk, discussing the holiday season and their favorite traditions. The guards' responses grew sluggish, their words slurring as the sedative took hold.
"Hey, Joe, did you finish your shopping?" one guard asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Y-yeah...got my wife a nice necklace," the other guard stammered, his eyes drooping.
Suddenly, one guard stumbled, his thermos slipping from his grasp. The other guard tried to catch him but collapsed alongside his colleague, their bodies sinking into the darkness like fallen trees.
I smiled inwardly, relieved. My plan was working. The guards' radios crackled, but they lay silent, unable to respond.
Within minutes, both guards lay unconscious, the Christmas juice having done its job. I quickly dragged them into the shadows, ensuring they wouldn't be discovered until morning. Their peaceful slumber would soon turn into a chaotic awakening.
With the guards neutralized, I made my way back to my car, parked a safe distance away. The night air seemed quieter now, the darkness feeling less oppressive. The stars twinkled above, indifferent to the destruction I had set in motion.
As I drove away from Kingpin's estate, I glanced at the dashboard clock. The countdown had begun. In a few hours, the bombs would detonate, bringing Kingpin's world crashing down.
As I cracked eggs into a sizzling pan, the aroma of scrambled eggs and bacon filled my kitchen, teasing my senses and momentarily distracting me from the weight of my intentions. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the room and illuminating the festive decorations I had neglected to put up this year. My mind, however, was elsewhere, consumed by the events that would soon unfold. The bomb I had set last night would explode in about an hour, and I was planning to visit the site afterward, to survey the damage and ensure my plan had been executed flawlessly.
Just as I was about to plate my breakfast, a knock on the door caught me off guard, shattering the fragile calm. I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I wondered who could be visiting at such an early hour. I wasn't expecting any visitors, especially not today.
I approached the door cautiously, peering through the peephole to identify the unexpected guest. Officer Jenkins stood on my porch, dressed in casual clothes, a friendly smile on his face. No uniform, no badge, just a concerned expression that caught me off guard.
I opened the door, feigning surprise as I tried to compose myself. "Jenkins! What brings you here?" I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the growing unease.
"Merry Christmas!" he said, extending a hand in a warm gesture. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to wish you a happy holiday. I know you don't have any family to celebrate with, and I figured you might appreciate some company."
His kindness caught me off guard, stirring a fleeting sense of guilt. Jenkins had always been a decent guy, but I hadn't expected this gesture, especially not today.
"Thanks, Jenkins," I said, shaking his hand firmly. "That's really thoughtful of you. Come on in."
As he entered, I glanced at the clock on the wall, my anxiety spiking. 8:45 AM. The bomb would detonate in 15 minutes. How could I politely get rid of Jenkins before the chaos erupted?
"Can I get you some coffee or eggs?" I offered, trying to sound hospitable despite the turmoil brewing inside.
"No, no, I'm good," Jenkins replied, taking a seat at my kitchen table. "I just wanted to check in on you. You know, make sure you're doing okay."
His genuine concern made me uneasy, heightening the contrast between his kindness and my dark intentions. Here I was, plotting destruction, while he showed up with compassion.
We chatted for a few minutes, exchanging small talk about the holiday season. Jenkins spoke about his family's traditions, his kids' excitement for Santa, and the joy of watching them grow. I listened intently, masking my inner turmoil as I sought a polite way to usher him out.
As the conversation flowed, my mind raced. How could I ensure Jenkins' safety without arousing his suspicion? The clock ticked away, each passing second bringing me closer to a point of no return.