Stiles stepped into the warehouse that he had just tracked his target run into. He had been hired by his wife to kill him – he had cheated on her or something like that. Stiles never really listened when his clients explained their reasons for hiring him. All he cared about was getting paid.
Hearing a small groan coming from behind a metal canister, Stiles knew that the poison he had added to his knife was now taking effect. He slowly strolled over to the canister, leaning his elbow on it as he peered his head around it and smiled at the man with fake sympathy; he always told himself that the ones he killed deserved it and that they were bad people. How else would he stay sane?
He watched as he guy involuntarily jerked his muscles and fell onto his back, gasping for breath as the air was sucked out of his lungs by the poison. A stab on sadness echoed though him as he watched him slowly dying; he didn't enjoy him job, it was a last resort. His family history had made it so that no sane person would ever hire him to work anywhere.
As his victims face turned purple, he made the decision to end his suffering. Stiles knelt down beside him and slid his blade into his temple, killing him instantly.
Stiles drove straight to the bar that he had met the poor bastard's wife in; it was pay time. When he finally arrived, he headed straight behind the building like they had planned. The woman was already stood there, a guilty expression plastered on her face that Stiles was so used to seeing. Stiles stopped directly in front of the woman and nodded, confirming that he had finished the 'deed'. She sighed a guilty and relieved sigh and pulled a plastic bag out of her pocket, handing it to him with her mouth set in a grim line.
Taking the bag, he turned and sauntered away from the woman without saying a word – he knew that if he stayed, he would most likely be met with excuses of how this didn't make her a bad person… blah blah blah. Instead, Stiles got back into his Jeep and rode towards his 'home' without sparing the wife a second glance.
Stiles pulled up outside the block of flats that he momentarily slept in and heading inside. He keyed himself into his flat and went straight to the loose floorboard and placed his 'equipment' back into its rightful place, along with the money. He then placed the floorboard back down and shook off his shirt and jeans. Rubbing his eyes, he fell onto the mattress lying in the corner of the room and immediately fell into a coma-like sleep.
The sun awoke him the next morning, shining through the window and into his eyes. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, sitting up and taking a moment to wake up properly. Eventually, he stood up and stumbled into his bathroom and then into the shower.
Two hours later, Stiles was showered, dressed and sitting in his favourite café with a latte stood on his table. He took a huge gulp, letting the caffeine wake up his tired body. Hearing footsteps, her turns to see a guy about his age slumping down into the chair opposite him on his table.
"Can I help you?" Stiles queried, raising his eyebrows at the man intruding on his personal time – which he didn't get much of.
"Yeah, you can", the man replies, smiling and tilting his head in a way that would have made anybody else intimidated; Stiles just found it irritating.
"What can I do for you?" Stiles smiled fakely, sipping his latte again.
"I want you to kill someone for me." He answered, making Stiles choke on his drink and check around to make sure nobody was listening.
"Excuse me?" he folded his arms and shot him a warning look that should have sent him running. Instead, he kept his creepy smile and tilted head.
"I want the job done before 8:00pm tonight. If you complete the job, there's two hundred grand in it for you." The guy explained. Stiles eyed him up, deciding whether he was a cop – he had 'clients' in the past who had turned out to be cops trying to bust him for murders. Since that had started, he had been a lot more secretive about what he did for a living.
The guy slid a piece of paper over the table towards him and then continued to speak, "However, if you fail to complete the job, I'll have to do it myself… and I'll take you down with her." He added, crossing his arms in a 'that's final' kind of way.
Stiles turned over the piece of paper. On it, an address was written. He stayed silent for a few while, deciding whether or not to trust this kid – he looked shifty as hell but he seemed to be being honest with him.
Finally deciding, he nodded and shoved the paper into his jacket pocket. He checked the time '11:56am'. "Meet me here tomorrow morning with my payment." He said standing up and starting to walk away; if the guy wanted it done by 8:00pm tonight, he would have to start preparing now.