Jᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ 1, 2021
Mateo D'Angelo.
Alexa flexes her fingers in the black, leather gloves she just slipped onto her right hand, strapping the wrist band around tightly.
Mateo D'Angelo. . .she saw his picture and information, there's no doubt that it's not him. A quick flash of recent times skips through her brain in a pictures. Mateo knocked her out that night, because it was what he was told to do. After that, he did nothing but try to take care of her when Sebastian wasn't around. Now, Mateo is a red tag on a private, illegal webpage. He's been doxxed.
"Be careful." Phillipeño whispers, putting on a plain, black face mask.
What? She barely spares him a glance, throwing on a cloak and flipping the hood over her head. Phillip sighs when she leaves the changing room.
It's way past 12am and Alexa scurries in the darkness, a GPS map alight on an Iphone that Petro gave out to everyone earlier, with their targets address. Once there, she puts away the device in it's case strapped to her thigh, going through the back like a ghost in the night.
There is he; sitting in an old, wooden chair on his back porch. His forehead is raised to the sky and a cigarette protrudes from his parted lips. He looks worn down, sitting awfully with his hands dropped by his side. Alexa takes off the hood and steps into the dim light of the moon, approaching him openly. Soon, he notices her and straightens quickly, squinting at the little girl.
Mateo's cigarette falls from his lips when he recognizes her. "Ales–Alessia. . .?"
She steps onto his porch, that creaks beneath her weight and with her cloak russling at her feet, she stops to his left. "Yes."
"No. . ." She smiles at that, nodding as he gapes. "I–I thought you. . .what happened? Where'd you go?" He stands slowly, towering over her figure and taking in her choice of covering. "What's all this?"
"I'm better now." She states simply, before cocking her head back to meet his gaze. "How's Sebastian?"
Mateo stiffens and he sits again, staring out at the uncut grass in his yard. "Sebastian's dead. He killed himself a week after you disappeared." The hopeless man takes a long drag from the almost burnt out cancer stick he retrieved from the ground.
"I'm here to kill you." She says, emptily.
His eyes dim and he looks up to the sky, a tilt on his lips. "Okay."
"I'll make it painless." He glances at her approach, taking a breath. And when her small hands coil around his neck in a grip of death, she whispers maybe a bit sadly, "Happy New Year."