Warning: swearing, underage substance abuse, mentions of gore
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Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Heaving a drag of the chocolate flavoured cigarette I twisted between my fingers, I blew out the smoke and scowled down at my scuffed shoes dangling over the edge of the bridge.
"Hey! There you are!"
I heard the familiar voice but chose not to aknowledge it. Taking another drag, the paper whittled down under the burn of the embers that were flicked into the breeze.
"You're a fetus, you shouldn't be smoking those" the man beside me laughed as he lifted himself up to sit beside me, eying the pocket of my hoodie expectantly "got one for me?"
"You owe me" I grumbled as I shook one out and handed it over.
"What? Like, fifty cents for this?" he snorted before finding the scrawl on the edges "flavoured? Seriously?"
I shrugged, trying to let his jest roll off me.
I wasn't in the mood for his stupid games. Not today.
"Tastes better than the other shit."
The man shook his head and snapped his fingers to produce a flickering flame from them. Guarding the cigarette from the wind with the other hand, he took a few puffs to blow the smoke upwards.
I heard the disgust of the taste muttered under his breath.
"And why would I catch you here, of all places, Dominic?"
I peered back at his little smirk that faced the sky. His red eyes stared straight at me through jagged brown hair that tangled in the breeze.
"Why are you using real names, Slaughter?" I shot to him.
Maybe it was a test? Someone could be nearby, waiting for me to slip up and let down my guard.
People like him had it easy. The worse the name, the better your chances were in the hell-hole we shared. People tended to avoid others with names like his, whether it be out here or in there.
Even though he had one of the worst, I held the higher position through association. I was someone's favourite, and for that, I got the shit jobs like this one that I had been avoiding.
I learned never to refuse an offer. I was only just able to sit up now without my ribs feeling like they were skewering me from where they had been broken under a steel-capped boot.
Turning back, I scanned the empty road behind me. Up the walkway to the right was a woman walking her raggedy dog. To the left was some guy joking with his pack of friends as they shoved each other on the way into town.
"We aren't there" Slaughter's hand waved lazily that had a bulky grey band snapped around it "no-one is listening to us right now. Live a little, Dommy."
I looked down at my identical one that was branded with my fake name. Scowling at what I was supposed to live by, I took another long drag to choke my lungs with sticky sourness.
"You've got to give up on the past, Derrick" I muttered up to him "you should know damn well that we don't go by those names anymore."
He smirked again, finding the whole seriousness of it a damn joke. The guy never listened unless it was being beaten through him.
"Sure, Stripey" he rolled his eyes at me as he flicked off the ash that blew back "you're the boss, Boss."
Stubbing out the butt of the cigarette on the metal railing, I brushed the litter off the edge to watch it sail down into the water where it was promptly picked at by hungry fish that spat it back out.
I knew I had to move from this bridge, but I knew that once I was back on that pathway, it would be leading straight to another good couple of hours of scrubbing blood out of my clothes again.
"Are you getting cold feet?"
The other cigarette was crushed beside me and sent flying down to bob after the first still cruising ahead.
Would I admit that I didn't want to do what I was here for? Make myself sound pathetic to another I barely knew?
"I just needed a smoke" I grunted back, hauling my legs over to the pathway.
"Stripes, you're eight" Slaughter choked out another snort "you aren't that addicted to smokes. You're avoiding the Mission."
"Fuck you" I hissed back.
The stupid grin was back at confirmation of my avoidance.
"Look, if you can't handle it..."
"Say another word about it and I'll throw you off the bridge!" I jabbed a finger back to him as I stormed across the road, watching Slaughter lazily follow behind.
"Zip my lips" he mimed beside me when we headed up to the right "I would never...."
I felt my own smile play on my lips at his thick sarcasm.
Even though he was a smart-arse, the guy did have a way of simmering the anger I was trying so desperately to keep bottled up.
That's why I chose for him to come with me. That, and the fact that he wasn't too hard to replace if I killed him today.
"Now, you sure it's all going to go to plan?" he muttered to me nervously now "because I've got my own things to do when I get back and I'd like to be alive to do them."
"Why do you think the reward is so high?" I smirked back now to him "lost your nerve because of a little kid like me?"
"I know what you can do" he shoved me back playfully "don't give me that shit!"
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We jeered and joked up the pathway out of town until I stopped outside a skyline. Staring up at the towering high-rise, I pulled out a folded piece of paper from my pocket to study the task I had been given. Attached was a photograph, obviously snapped from across the road of our target entering the front foyer with her arms sagging under a hefty amount of groceries.
Paper trails were harder to trace than digital ones. Still, it didn't make it any less inconvenient to haul this sensitive info around so openly.
I flipped over the paper to find it empty.
Did she live alone? Or was there someone else to expect up there?
"Should be the floor up near the top" I pointed it out "room forty-eight A. The woman is called Melissa Carbor. She's going to be a tough one."
Slaughter groaned as he tilted his head back up at it and squinted against the sun.
"Want another smoke break?" he jabbed my side expectantly as I passed him the paper to promptly burn in his hand.
"Come on" I huffed.
He groaned again and shuffled after me while grumbling under his breath. The ashes of the paper fluttered behind him. The parts that clung to his hands were promptly wiped onto the front of his jeans while I ran my fingers down every button to hit one that responded by opening the locked foyer door for us.
Someone was always expecting a visitor. It made it way too easy to slip closer to our victim.
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We kept our heads under our hoods as we circled each flight of stairs. Our hands remained buried in the pockets to hide the unmissable grey Band snapped permenantly around our right wrists.
Slaughter had the advantage of not being recognizable. He could walk with his head higher and flash little smiles to wary strangers passing by. I, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate. Everyone knew who I was. Holding the position I did in an organization that dealt with darker situations like this was bound to make you recognizable.
Still, that's why I was as valuable as I was. Because I got my hands dirty, whether I wanted to or not.
My age wasn't a restriction to them. Being young made me quicker to the kill and easier to snap over to the side that achieved it.
Once anger took over, that was it. Whatever happened after that was for the monster in me to decide. It was my curse and blessing that I wouldn't hold any memories of what it did when it was forced out through soulless eyes. It killed whatever it wanted, however it wanted it. Not even our own people were safe.
I was a weapon, and that's how they liked it. Only it remembered everyone it killed. Being blind and deaf to it all only made me more perfect.
Suddenly, I was craving another smoke break. Somewhere further from here...
There was no turning back now. We were rounding to the level that she was on.
Slaughter turned to me when we reached the door. He held his hands on my shoulders to give them a little squeeze.
"Please don't kill me in there" he tried to play it off as a joke, but his whispering voice betrayed him "we work through this together OK? We don't even know what's on the other side of that door, so we have to be a team."
"You know I can't control it" I forced a smile back "but you do owe me for that cigarette, so I'll try and hold back."
He did the same, letting his hands fall with a suppressed laugh that made his eyes glisten.
"Yeah, I guess I do owe you, huh?"
He turned back to the closed door to focus on burning out the sides where the hinges would support it. I approached as I felt the darkness bleeding it's way out of my pupils and through the colour of my eyes.
The fog devoured all of my thoughts with it. They dissolved into a sharp buzzing that burned for the warm caress of blood to soak through every pore and run down my tongue.
Further and further my rationality melted, until the door before me was kicked open and I was thrown straight into the void at the sight of my target screaming against the wall.
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