Assassin for Hire: Never Forget | Teen Ink

Assassin for Hire: Never Forget

April 12, 2011
By sandhawk3000 PLATINUM, Collinsville, Connecticut
sandhawk3000 PLATINUM, Collinsville, Connecticut
45 articles 1 photo 6 comments

I can’t blink now…I can’t think right now. I can’t get past the few dots of sweat that have formed on my forehead, and are threatening to run into my eyes, and temporarily blur my vision. As they do this I blink furiously, mentally swearing to myself that I’ll get a better helmet. One that doesn’t make my face feel like it’s going to explode in hotter climates.

It’s just one of those more humid nights of summer, and I half want to rip the thing off of my head, and be able to breathe again. This is going to be distracting, especially since I have a mission to be getting over with.

Not to mention…I’d gone into the sewers to get where I needed, and…let’s just say I was getting new boots, and a new pair of pants. There were things that even bothered me, and sewage just happened to be one of those things. Not only did it stain leather…it also let your enemies know you, or a garbage monster was coming. And since the second was highly improbable, people just seemed to avoid smells this bad. At least my helmet worked to filter out some of the worst of it.

At the moment hiding behind this truck was best, though I made sure not to touch it. Didn’t want to leave any trace, or set off some obnoxiously loud car alarm.

Then there was a sound, a scuffle of quick footsteps. The footsteps of a business man that needed taking care of? Possibly…I tried my best to blend in with the black car, in that dimly lit parking lot. Hand on the sheathe of my blade, as I flicked it out slightly by the hilt.

Then I saw the flash of his blond hair, and pulled my blade out in one quick, fluid motion. Cut to the shoulder sent him down, “Give me the Flash drive in your breast pocket…” I ordered, as the man grinned. I hissed, “Give it over, a**!” I yelled through the helmet, which garbled my voice.

The man reached into his breast pocket, and chucked the piece of plastic at me. It bounced against the leather jacket that I was wearing, and I glanced down to the ground.

“Don’t move.” I hissed, as I kicked the man back down to the ground, and stood with one foot on his chest. “Try and run off, and you die in the most painful way possible.” I growled, as I stared him over. Bending down, and carefully picking the USB of the drive, and staring down at this.

“You better pray to whatever god you believe in, that this piece of crap works.” I muttered a tad bit more quietly, before placing the chip into my pocket. “Otherwise, I will make your afterlife, even worse than this.” I hissed, as I stood up straight.

“You’re lucky the job isn’t to kill tonight…” I muttered, as I turned and continued walking on, the man just grinned even wider.

“Y-You don’t know what you’re doing, by helping whoever you’re helping.” He muttered, “There are things on there….things that could change the future!” he yelled, “Young man, please just listen to me!” he said, the grin on his face looking psychotic by this point in time. Maybe he was scared…or maybe he was just a crazy b******.

Letting go of the man’s neck, I glared down at him. “More like it can change the future of your paycheck.” I muttered, more than half trying to not think about it.

This was my job, I got paid for it, and that was all that mattered. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if this man was right. If this really could change the future, and ended up causing some kind of disaster.
Even though it wouldn’t be my fault directly, and there would be no way of telling if my job had really caused it. There was still a big heaping plate of guilt, and I would always wonder if it was my fault.
It didn’t take me as long as usual to find my motorcycle, and when I did I was already bothered by what was going through my head. I needed these thoughts to stop, and I needed them to stop now.
Getting to a quiet spot, one on the bridge, I tugged out my cellphone. “The job is done…” I hissed into the phone, “Just get me my money…”

The author's comments:
A piece~

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