S
A gasp of ecstasy escaped the man's lips as the needle pierced his skin and dug into the lattice of violent veins under the sheet of wafer-thin, chalk-white skin of his arm. Slowly, he pressed down, herding the twirling bubbles of the cloudy narcotics into the vein of his choice. And thus begun the pleasurable high, taking Sebastian Moran away from the grey street corners he inhabited.
Sebastian Moran was broken. He'd been ensnared by drugs as soon as he set foot on the streets and they had ruled his pretty much insignificant existence for so long that it was a miracle he was alive. Dark crimson and mauve scabs were splattered on his arms like wallpaper in a dull room, showing the points of entry from the much too numerous needles he'd had in his life. His blood was rarely pure; it was tainted with cocaine, heroin, opium, or perhaps another kind of drug he'd obtained.
"Oh, what a mess."
Sebastian looked up, his bleary eyes taking a while to focus on the figure in front of him.
A man who looked mostly comprised of shadow except his deathly pale skin stood above him, a slanted smirk on his face.
"What?" Sebastian slurred.
"Oh, how rude of me to not introduce myself." The man's voice was almost musical, his accent lifting and dipping, "I, Mr Moran, am a future employer of yours."
"Well that cleans sh*t up, doesn't it?" Sebastian muttered.
"Ooh, tiger has claws."
"What?"
"You see, Mr Moran, you don't know me. But I certainly know you. I know all about you. Did you really only last two years in the army? What did you do, tiger?" His smirk widened.
Sebastian gulped and reached for the dog-tags under his jacket and shirt. Memories of his army days he'd repressed came back. He never really did find out why he was discharged. It was probably the booze. Or the women. But then again, it was probably the refusing to fight sometimes because the beer was so much better when you weren't being shot at.
"I heard you're one of the best snipers the army has to offer. And to be honest, I have two others watching you from the roof opposite us. They won't kill you unless you accept my offer." The man's words were brutal, but the way he said them was light, yet laced with the perfect amount of venom.
"Which is?"
"I need to new bodyguard. Since you seem to be the best in the business, I came to you. It's funny how many druggies will talk when you offer them a line." The man looked like he'd start laughing.
"Guess who won't be alive in the morning." Sebastian growled.
"Feisty tiger."
"Stop calling me tiger. You obviously know my name so stop f*cking around."
The man laughed.
"Will I get paid for this bodyguard crap?"
"Of course. In the form of a free flat share, expensive suits and even more expensive guns."
Sebastian considered for a moment.
"So, what do you say, tiger?"