Crazy Crazy Secretary dont love me I kill

THE SWEET CHIRPING of birds could be heard. It sounded like an eagle soaring in the sky, with its majestic wings spread wide. As you looked up, you could see four of them, flying high above the scorching sun of Los Angeles.

"Hahaha!!" The voice of a woman reverberated at the top floor of a building. She was laughing maniacally, holding on to her stomach with one hand abd the other hand, holding unto a metallic oblect.

"Die! Die! Hahaha!" From the balcony, you'd sight her pointing to the air.

The fleet of birds which had this usual turnabout in the air continued doing their thing and many joined till they were numbered up to ten. That beautiful twirl and turn with squirt. A beautiful sight indeed. Tourists would do anything to see this. The smooth, gentle wind blew past. Making the blend more worthwhile.

The first was a wild shout from one of the birds, after the echoed sound of a revolver shot and then the dismantling of the peaceful assembly. The birds went into a frenzy and their wails were heard and increased. Then came another shot, hitting its second target who dropped dead on the beach and sounded close to the other. And then again, the shots continued.

This neighborhood is built close to the beach, off Hollywood. Only the extremely rich could afford homes in this area.

When the noise and shooting had stopped, the crazy figure could be seen from a distance at the top balcony pointing fingers in no specific direction. Within thirty minutes, all the birds flocking in the fleet, twirling beautifully, were dropped dead on the beach. Any normal person would have been nothing but astonished.

Somebody must have reported this to the police as within a short time they'd driven into the estate. Their siren resounding, again, and again throughout the streets until they made a halt at the designated building.

The doorbell to the condo rang twice. A lady, chubby enough but not fat with strands of hair on her round Caucasian face, which fell out from the packed bun. She was wearing a black body hug jumpsuit.

Hurriedly, she got out of the kitchen to attend to the anonymous guest. She had her mouth tightened in a twist. Having visitors was not a usual thing here.

For a second she paused to confirm if it was really their condo's bell that was being rung. Then it stopped, and she made a halt right in the middle of the sitting room. But then, it rang again.

Peeping through the door hole she could not make out who these men standing outside were.

"I'm coming" she yelled, the Korean accent in English was too strong.

"Hari! Go get the door" the voice of a lady resounded from inside the house. The owner of the voice must have been using the white man's house.

"Don't worry, I've got it."

"Uh," the lady in her mid-thirties took a step backward, astonished. She was shocked by the presence of the Los Angeles anti-crime patrol.

"The cops?" She whispered to herself, eyes widened.

"Good evening ma'am" the two American police greeted, respectfully before pushing past into the sitting room. From gathered information, they located the house where the shootings were heard and evidence of about ten dead eagles on the sand beach was enough proof. The apartment building was just in front of the sandy beach, like other buildings.

Madam Hari wasn't defensive; she let them in.

"Good evening" she greeted with a bit of shiver. They never get visitors except the floor cleaner who comes in regularly to clean up the house. And then Naila's doctor came in for a routine check-up. They never get visitors.

"Should I get you water?" She asked in the traditional way of welcoming visitors. They ignored her and kept on with their business of looking around the house. One officer had his chin raised, looking about and taking notes.

"Yeah, are you one miss Kim Kim em…?" The White officer said, trying to get the full name.