Chapter-2 Assassin

I've heard men scream before Greyson is no different Loud, Useless and far too late.

Blood flows from him painting the concrete floor red. I don't feel bad. He EARNS this treatment-and worse, God knows.

I should tell him I'll let him go if he stands up and switch off the fan with his fingers. I smile to myself a quit, private grin at the humorless joke I've just told myself.

''Stand up and switch off the fan with your fingers''I say to him-He has no fingers left.

He looks at me with venom.

He keeps trying to curl fingers that aren't there.

Pathetic!

And toes? Gone too...

I look at him in the eyes, my elbow resting on my knees face in my hand.

''So...want to say something OR don't want your penis intact…''

He looks at me, sweat sliding slowly along his jaw, I stab him at some places that sure going to hurt like crazy, but it won't be enough to make him dead...

His voice cracks as he finally screams

''HENRY SANT!!!"

He screams I stop halfway, blade still in the air(in my hand)…

''Henry sant, I sell him names!!!''

He said panting fear clear in his eyes…

''OK'' I said voice low and steady.

I rise from my chair and got behind him, his panic grows, I load bullet into the chamber.

''You were a real piece of work, Grayson but thanks for the name.''

A click from the gun.

I pull the trigger.

His head does not blow apart-Thanks God,Or i'd have to clean up this mess.

His face falls a pause,then I walk to his body as if on autopilot.

I work the knot free. For a second he hangs there, then his weight pull him forward, and he falls off the chair. I glance at him rolled my neck and feel it crack. and tension in my shoulder start to ease.

I discard him easy.and.simple.

That how it works. The one who ask...always gets the name.

I got my money.

Now I sit in my porch and sign...

I dont kill for money,I kill?why I kill...nice question I dont know....I know,I kill people that are bad according to me for example:Rapist,sex trafficking,child traffickers?..huh..and 50 more people in list...

When there's no money..there is-A look from someone who survived.

I...I feel good.

I sit behind the wheel,head on the steering wheel,eyes on the city light.

''It looks peaceful from here.'' I murmur to myself...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Today a stranger reached out,offering me a contract-take out the mafia.

I never take mafia jobs.I dont feel like playing their games.But then...

I see the name.

But, But...

I killed him five years ago.

Then who the hell is this???

BONUS:)