"Tobirama, you got this?" His brother's voice rang in his left ear accompanied by the usual static from the ear monitor.
Tobirama did not appreciate the interruption, but continued walking silently. By this time, Hashirama's overly concerned self had become tolerable enough for him to keep focus and drown out the unnecessary questions about his safety periodically being blared in his ear.
"Tobirama." This time his brother's voice was stricter than usual indicating that a response could not be avoided.
Sighing Tobirama stopped in his tracks and placed his hand on the monitor pressing the little button that would enable Hashirama to hear him.
"Do you really need to do this every fucking time?" Tobirama questioned harshly as he pulled out a cylindrical object from the inner pocket of his coat.
"Yes. You know we don't have room for mistakes." Hashirama replied with the same stern voice as before.
"Humph. I am not capable of mistakes, brother." Tobirama said as he smirked and fastened the object tightly on to a revolver.
"I deactivated all the alarms. You can access the terrace without any problem now." Hashirama explained ignoring the obvious cockiness of his brother.
"Now that's the kind of stuff I need to hear from you." Tobirama said holding the weapon in his hand and running his gloved fingers over the rough surface of the gun admiring -caressing- it knowing that he will soon depart from it.
"So, how are you gonna do it? Make as less of a mess as you can, please." Hashirama pleaded, aware of the unceremonious ways his younger brother has gone about doing his job before.
"Drowning." Tobirama declared placing the revolver back in the harness and buttoning up his coat.
"No…..Tobirama ...no, please no ." Hashirama, unfortunate enough to not be present there with his brother to physically stop him, begged him to reconsider over the monitor. "God, do you not remember the last time…?"
"That was just one time! The sad bastard wouldn't die so I had to. This time it's planned. Besides, I like this gun, I don't wanna lose it." Tobirama announced his ultimate plan and took off the ear monitor which still resounded with Hashirama's voice.
"See you at dinner, brother." Tobirama said before throwing the monitor on the ground and stepping on it, crushing it under the weight of his heel like it was a pest of some sort.
The butler stood next to him as he picked a glass without looking. He didn't know what it was, he didn't care what it was, it had alcohol in it and that's all that mattered.
He downed the whole glass in one gulp, the flavor of the drink mixed with the mint in his mouth creating an awful taste that made him wince, but didn't keep him from swallowing.
His target had gotten out of his sight which made him walk faster through the crowd of corrupt, pretentious fucks infesting the ball room. Everywhere he turned he saw a face from his Bingo Book. In the near future, he had no doubt one of them will make face to face contact with the barrel of his gun, however, right now his assignment wasn't any one of them.
In his haste to capture the sight of his victim, he forgot to pay attention to his surrounding which caused him to collide with what looked like a flash of red from his peripheral vision.
"Oh I am so sorry, hun." The voice indicated that the flash of red was a woman. He didn't care enough to turn to look at the woman, his focus entirely fixated on finding his target.
"Hey, are you okay?" The woman asked him softly as she placed her warm hand on his shoulder.
The contact seemed to startle him. He turned to look at her to hurriedly mumble a "sorry" and walk away. His instructions were to have minimal contact with the occupants of the building and he tried not to deviate from them.
"Wait...please hold on!" The woman walked after him, her dress rustled against the floor as she tried to keep up with him.
"I am looking for someone. I've asked everyone here and no one knows him ….I was wondering if you'd seen him….He was wearing a black suit and had these unusually white hair ...Do you know him by any chance?" Her words fell on deaf ears or ears that were concentrated on hearing things other than her voice, yet she followed him adamantly, clearly in desperate need of finding the mystery man.
"Sorry, ma'am ..I...I don't know who you're talking about…" Her question did not really register in his mind and he just replied instinctively.
Faintly hearing the woman's apology for bothering him, he moved forward towards the end of the seemingly endless ballroom.
His nerves ignited ferociously as the man he sought for finally became visible to him. Standing by the elevators, his soon-to-be-victim wore sunglasses tinted with the brightest orange imaginable.
Forget the assignment; he would have killed the man just for his extremely poor choice of color.
He watched from a safe distance as the elevator door slid open to allow his target to walk in.
He walked closer, but still maintained a distance that kept him inconspicuous making sure to not appear suspicious to the ones surrounding him.
The flashing numbers on top of the elevator stopped at five, indicating where his target had gotten off.
It wasn't that he didn't know the exact location of the man; in fact he had an uncomfortable amount of intel on the guy, even than he had to be completely sure. Mistakes in a profession like this meant certain death and he sure as hell did not want to meet his demise through the hands of a man wearing orange sunglasses.
As he raced up the stairs, he felt the smooth metal of his gun against his sweat covered skin. The thrill of killing never ceased to exhilarate him. The way all his senses seem to awaken by the rush.
Fear, excitement, anxiety and a myriad of other intense feelings mixed and mingled with the perfect amount of sensory hyperinnervation provided him with pleasure that almost nothing else could.
No matter how excited he was internally though, his external stayed calm and precise as he pulled his phone out.
His thumb glided against the screen of the phone with habitual precision before he left the stairs to enter the hallway.
He took one step into the hallway and the lights within the exquisite lampshade chandeliers lining the walls flickered off like they had been synchronized to do so.
However, it wasn't just that particular hallway, but the entire building fell victim to the darkness much to his delight. His plan was progressing perfectly, but it was too early for him to rejoice just yet.
He pulled out the magnum resting adoringly against the side of his chest. Loving the cold feeling of the handle, he stopped in front of one of the rooms and with a swift and powerful push broke the door open.
Before any of the occupants of the room had a chance to react, he open fired. From the sound of the impact of the bodies with the floor after the shots, he calculated the number was two, one less than he desired.
The third victim, the one he really wanted, was struggling in the dark to escape through the window. The moonlight from the window hit his sunglasses making him stand out like a candle.
The man after realizing, a little too late, that his attempt to escape was futile turned back with a pistol in his hand pointing towards the intruder.
But before he could shoot, he was quickly disarmed and his arms pulled back painfully with brute force. He tried to pry himself free from the grip of the other man, but miserably failed to overcome the power of the one holding him.
The struggle caused his sunglasses to fall off his face which cracked as they made their with the floor. He tried to tilt his head back to get a look at his assailant, but the back of his skull made a painful union with the hot muzzle of a gun and he froze in place.
"If you're going to impersonate me , at least make it believable. Orange? Really?" The man said as he felt the hostage in his grip become rigid with fear. He pushed the gun against his head harder in an attempt to let the guy know what's coming next.
"Madara…?" His victim said squeamishly and a shiver ran through him.
The man now known as Madara would have loved this to continue, the fear, the intimidation; he took extreme joy in emotionally crippling his victims before the final kill. But, alas just like with his other victims, time wouldn't permit him to revel in such activities.
"This is the last time you're gonna abuse that name, Obito." Madara announced and pressed the trigger. The spark created by the bullet as it left his gun had usually gone unnoticed by him, but in the dark it glowed bright transiently before the bullet made its entry into Obito's head.
He removed his hold on Obito and watched his now lifeless body fall to the ground.
Without giving a second thought to the corpses around him, Madara made his way towards the exit as he securely placed his gun back in the harness against his chest.
Opening the door that he broke just a few minutes ago, Madara left the darkness of the room to enter the similar darkness of the hallway. Things were quieter now and he could hear the rough heels of his boots brush against the carpet beneath them.
For the few minutes that were left, he indulged in the silence as he descended down the stairs to finish his new task.
'One down, one to go'
A:N: Can't beileve I decided to write a second fic, but I was so inspired by a particular movie that I couldn't resist writing this. If you've seen it, you might be able to guess the name of it since the fic will contains a few elements from it. Well, this is the first chapter :) If you like it let me know...If you hate it ... well, you can still let me know I guess :(