by Daniel Hurst
No one in my hometown has ever seen me again and I know many people back in Japan think I am dead. On the contrary, I am having the time of my life, causing so many other people around the world to end up dead.
With my love of killing ignited by my maths tutor and a sudden need to make enough money to support myself, I decided to combine the two and become a paid assassin. I will kill anybody if the price is right and if you want them to stop breathing badly enough, then you will pay me whatever I ask.
I’m twenty-four but I feel much older than that because I’ve seen things that very few people on this planet have. I’ve watched the life drain out of a man’s eyes as I stood over him and waited for him to bleed out. I’ve seen a woman’s head explode from the simple twitch of my trigger finger. And I’ve caused revolutions in several countries just because I took out a leader who many people thought was invincible.
But I’ve never had a job like this one before. So many people, all at the same time. And so many innocent bystanders too. I believe there will be over 200 people on this yacht on Saturday. That’s another 200 people on my kill count. Not many people can boost their numbers that quickly. By my recollection that will make my kill count reach the lofty figure of 441.
Maybe my maths isn’t so bad after all.
If only my tutor could see me now.
I zip up the back of the $2 teddy bear that I bought from a tourist shop on the beachfront this morning and hold it at arm’s length to get another look at it. It has brown fur and black beady eyes and is wearing a little white t-shirt that says “I Love Miami.” But the most important thing is that it doesn’t look like there is a deadly amount of C4 explosives hidden inside it.
I love Miami too.
With the bear taken care of, I place it inside the white box that will hold it and then pick up the roll of wrapping paper that will cover the whole thing. This one beautifully wrapped box will form part of the large pile of presents that will be waiting for the birthday boy when he walks onto his yacht.
He may open the presents during the party, or he may not. It doesn’t really matter because even if he does unwrap this box and find the teddy bear inside, he will have no idea how dangerous it is. He will just think it is a cute gift from a friend and move onto the next gift-wrapped item.
Little does he know that this present will be the most important one that he will ever get.
I chose a teddy bear to be the carrier of my explosive surprise because it had seemed like the right thing to use once I had read about the owner of the yacht. Zack Reynolds is a social media star, which is all I needed to know before I happily decided to blow him into a million pieces along with the influencers I’d been hired to kill. But I’m a professional and so I had conducted more thorough research into him and I had found out that one of his nicknames online is ‘The Teddy Bear.’
Apparently, the nickname came about because he is known for hugging every single person he interacts with. Even his online fans seem to have taken to calling themselves ‘his bears.’
I wish I could blow all of them up too but there simply isn’t enough room on the yacht for them all. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough that my next job will involve eradicating at least some of Zack’s flock of followers.
Not that I need the money anymore. I already have millions stashed away and this next assignment is paying me millions more. While there might be big money in being a social media influencer, it’s nothing compared to the money in killing those social media influencers. Both our industries are booming right now but only one of them will be booming on Saturday night.
I had thought about getting an account on PhoGlo, under a pseudonym obviously. I could post photos from all the places I go and maybe even ‘before’ and ‘after’ shots of my victims.
Here’s a photo of them smiling with a drink in one hand and a canapé in the other. Now here’s a photo of them with their head missing.
#Gruesome #Headless #JustAnotherDayAtTheOffice
Documenting my crimes online would be risky and draw a lot of attention to myself but I feel like doing such a thing is the only way I’m ever going to get caught. I’ve been murdering for fun or money for seven years now and there hasn’t been a single law enforcement agency in the world that has been able to identify me, let alone stop me. I feel like a PhoGlo account and a load of morbid followers might be the only chance I have to get some credit for what I have achieved in my young life.
But there’s far too much fun to be had before being caught and so I won’t be downloading any apps just yet. The selfies and the hashtags can wait. Right now the only thing I have time for is playing with the cute little teddy bear that will be making plenty of new friends at the party on Saturday.
Just before it blows them all away.
#3DaysBeforeTheParty
#HomeSweetHome
Emily Bennett
I’m back in the UK for the first time in three weeks and after spending so much time overseas it’s good to see so many of the familiar sights of the capital again. The double-decker buses driving past me on the busy streets, leaving plumes of dirty smoke behind them. The black cabs weaving about in between them, most of them with their headlights on, already trying to combat the mid-afternoon gloom. And all the people here, rushing in and out of tube stations, clutching their travelcards and sacrificing manners for speed, trying to get to wherever they need to be, completely unaware that the only thing they are getting themselves closer to is a heart attack.
I’m standing in the middle of all this classic London chaos but just like many of the tourists who visit here every day, I am not dismayed by the sight of the crowds or the general lack of manners from everybody pushing past me. Because just like the tourists, I am glad to be here.
But unlike the tourists who will soon head back to the airport with memories and a phone full of photos of Buckingham Palace, probably destined never to return, I will always come back here, no matter how many times I leave or how far I go from these shores.
England is my birthplace.
London is my love.
Being here means I am home.
Okay, so strictly speaking, home for me is Billericay, a small town several miles outside the capital. But I’m only here for just over twenty-four hours and I am here on business so unfortunately there isn’t time for me to go back there. It’s a shame because I’d love nothing more right now than a homecooked meal and a night in my old bed but those are the kind of luxuries that are rare for a full time social media influencer these days.
I haven’t spent more than one night at my mum’s house in the last three months and the next three months aren’t looking much better. But I don’t feel too down about it. I get to see the world and it wasn’t too long ago that I used to sit in my mum’s house and wish that I could get out of there.
Besides, it’s only a house and the only thing I really miss about it is the fact that my mum is there. That is why she is coming into London tomorrow morning to grab breakfast with me before I fly back to America again.
If I can’t go to my mum, then my mum will come to me.
I can’t wait to see her and fill her in on all my adventures. She keeps tabs on me via my PhoGlo account of course but it’s not as personal as sitting next to me and hearing me actually bring life to all my incredible tales. And it’s the same for her. She sends me a few messages about what she has been up to and it sounds like she is happy and having a lot of fun now she has left her job in the supermarket, but it’s not the same as getting to see her.
We will only have a couple of hours to catch up, which isn’t a lot of time when the Bennett girls are together, but we will do our best to bring each other up to speed with our life events in the short space of time that we have.
I will tell her all about Ryan and how things are going with him. They haven’t met each other yet but I’m hoping they will early next year. Ryan is already planning a small UK tour, which would provide the perfect opportunity for mum to get to know him.
I can’t wait to see his face when he sees Billericay.
It’s not exactly Brooklyn after all.
In return, mum will tell me all about her boozy ladies’ nights with her friends, how things are going with my fan mail and the charity we set up in memory of my father, and maybe even a little about the affair she believes our next door neighbour is having.
Mrs Smith, the saucy minx.
I love a good gossip and a catch up, and there’s no one better to do it with than my mum. I just feel sorry for the people sitting near us in the restaurant tomorrow.
It’s going to be loud.
But that is tomorrow, and I still have today to tackle first. I am on my way to Kensington in the affluent West End of London for a meeting about a possible new venture.
A fitness video.
To say I was shocked when I got the invitation to make the video is an understatement. I have been helping promote various health-based products for a few months now but that doesn’t exactly mean that I’ve been reaping any rewards from them. I do my best to keep the weight off but because I am constantly on the move, it is difficult to keep to a healthy routine.
I haven’t really put on any weight over the past few months, but I haven’t lost any either and so I’m still the same reasonably slim, but fairly unfit girl I’ve always been.
Quite why this company wants to film me performing exercises for them is beyond me. There are a million girls on PhoGlo who are more toned and athletic than me but for some reason they have requested to see flabby Emily who can’t perform a squat or a push-up to save her life.
This should be fun.
I’m just about to head into the underground tube station that will take me to my meeting when I hear someone calling my name behind me. I turn around and look back down the crowded street and I’m not clear who exactly it was that was trying to get my attention. Probably just a fan. Maybe they just wanted me to turn around so they could snap a photo of me and show it to their friends later to prove that it was me.
But I’m not exactly an A-Lister. I’d have been happy to pose for a photo with them if they wanted one. Some influencers stop caring about their fans once the money starts rolling in but I’m not one of them. I’d stand here and take photos all day if there were enough people that wanted me to do it. But I doubt there are. Just because I’m famous online it doesn’t mean I get stopped very often in the street.
Having failed to see who shouted my name I go to turn back to the tube station but as I do, I hear someone calling me again.
I look around quicker this time and then I see a young woman coming towards me through the sea of shoppers and commuters. It’s Rebecca, the girl who replaced me on the reception at the solicitor’s office after I was fired for spending too much time on the internet early this year.
Maybe she is on her way there now. She is certainly dressed like a receptionist.
‘Oh my god, it’s you’ she says as she finally reaches me. ‘Come here.’
She brings me in for a hug, even though we were never that close to begin with. But I hug her back because I’m in a good mood.
‘Hi Rebecca’ I say as our bodies separate.
‘You remember my name?’ she asks me, sounding surprised.
‘Of course, why wouldn’t I?’ I tell her, and then I notice how in awe of me she seems to be.
‘It’s just that you know so many people now, I didn’t think you would ever remember someone like me’ she says, coming off like a starstruck little kid.
It’s a far cry from the last time we saw each other when she was there to take my job. I even remember her handing me the embarrassing list of future PhoGlo posts that I was planning for my account. That was also the day that Sebastian messaged me for the first time. A lot has happened since then. But apparently not so much in Rebecca’s world.
‘How are you?’ I ask, smiling to let her know that I am still the same girl with whom she once competed for a job, even though our lives have gone in very different directions since then.
‘I’m good. I’m still on the reception desk’ she says, pulling her face as if I needed confirmation of what a crappy job it was. ‘But I’m working on my PhoGlo profile every day. You’ve inspired me to try and become an influencer too.’
I smile again, touched that she sees me as an inspiration. It’s crazy because the last time we were together she saw me as the sad girl who had got fired because she spent all her time in the office fantasising about a life she could never have.
‘That’s great’ I tell her. ‘Well if I can do it then so can you.’
She laughs excitedly and grabs my arm, almost afraid of losing me in the crowds of people pushing by.
‘Please, you have to give me some tips. Tell me how you made it. I’ll do anything to be like you. Anything.’
She is hanging on my next word, desperate for the one piece of advice that will get her out of her crappy job and into the kind of life where you get to go to Kensington to meet people who want to pay you to make a fitness video.
I think about it and I know I could tell her all about what I did. How I was just lucky, or unlucky depending on how you saw it. How it’s not all as glamorous as it seems through your mobile phone screen. How I was forced to work for a crazy businessman who threatened me and my family.
How I killed him before he could kill me.
But she seems so happy and excited and innocent. That’s exactly how I used to be about it all and I don’t want to burst her bubble. Therefore, I don’t tell her about any of the things I had to go through to get to where I am. Instead I just think of the policy that Mason and I have of promoting a different account to our millions of followers every day at 2pm. It will be a lot easier if I just do that.
‘What’s your PhoGlo name?’ I ask her, taking out my phone.
She almost bursts with excitement as she figures out what I am going to do for her but the way I see it, in a way she helped me escape the job I hated, so now maybe I can do the same for her.
And at least she won’t have to kill anybody for it like I did.
#GreekGoddess
Mason Manor
I’m lucky that I have been to so many beautiful places around the world during my career as an influencer. But without a doubt, my absolute favourite place is still the one that I am in right now.
The island of Mykonos has become one of the most popular destinations on the planet and social media is one of the main reasons for that. Every summer there are hundreds of thousands of images from this Greek island uploaded to the phone screens of millions of people’s phones and it has become one of the most desired holiday locations in the world.
It’s a favourite of influencers, who have no problem figuring out what to share with their followers when there are so many stunning views here. Whitewashed villas on rocky hilltops, plunge pools overlooking impossibly blue oceans, beach bars where the patrons are all as picture perfect as the view.
I love it here and for the next twenty-four hours Mykonos is Mason’s Manor.
This is just what I need after a hectic few days. Sure, I’m here to work but it never really feels like work when I’m in a place like this. I’m here to promote a new hotel that has just opened and the idea is that once I have shared this new accommodation’s spacious suites and dazzling array of pools, then many of my followers will want to book their own stay here on the island next summer.
It’s currently September, which means high season is coming to an end, but that doesn’t mean the weather is any less ideal. The sky is still a deep blue and the temperature is more than warm enough to warrant me wearing nothing more than a bikini. I’ve already spent most of the day swimming and sunbathing, as well as keeping my followers updated on my movements.
I can hear the hum from a motorboat out on the Aegean Sea, but it is the only sound on an otherwise still and silent day. It’s a far cry from Paris, where I have just spent a hectic couple of days launching my new fashion line amidst a cacophony of photoshoot
s and catwalks.
It was touch and go for a while but thankfully, now the dust has settled, it seems like ManorGirl has gone down well with both the critics and, most importantly, the general public, who eagerly awaited the photos from the day to be published online.
While the website selling my clothes doesn’t go live for another two weeks, there is already great demand for many of the items that were modelled in Paris, so it seems like a safe bet to say that my latest venture could be my best one yet.
But it hadn’t seemed that way on Monday, as I prepared to walk out and pretend to be a model myself, after one of the professionals failed to turn up. I was worried that my appearance on the catwalk might make it seem like I considered myself pretty and talented enough to be a model too and that was the last thing I thought myself to be.
However, after the show, and when my heart rate had returned to a healthier rate, I saw some of the first reviews going online and thankfully they were all largely positive. PhoGlo was ablaze with photos of me on the catwalk and I have to say, even in my own humble and very biased opinion, I looked quite good up there. Which believe me, was a big surprise considering I had been sweating and just trying to concentrate on not falling over.
Of course it wouldn’t be social media without some negativity and there have been a number of nasty comments about me and the clothes that were being modelled. But my glowers have come out in force to support me and I am forever grateful for that. I always thought the best thing about being an influencer would be the money or the freedom but now I have my platform, I can say without doubt that the best thing about being an influencer is having the support of millions of people who see you as one of their friends.
My experience in Paris has reaffirmed my belief that social media can be a real tool for positive change in the world and proves that Emily and I were right to take down Sebastian and his evil empire when we did. There’s enough hate in the world already, so it warms my heart to see how much love is out there too.