Disclaimer- nope- not mine. Please R+R. This is hopefully the first of three parts.
The Assassin
Martin, not that it was his name, but he found that it helped to think of yourself in terms of the name you were assuming, was finding it very difficult to concentrate. He had been here all night, and then several nights before that as well, and tiredness was beginning to creep over the barrier he kept between himself and his working self.
Tonight was supposed to have been the night, he actually only needed to be here tonight, but like others who worked in the same field as he did, he took a fascination in his work that was beyond what was necessary. He enjoyed getting to know people, especially if he was going to kill them. He enjoyed knowing that he was going to be the last person ever to see them, the last person that they would ever see. He loved watching the life fade from them, knowing all about them, but them knowing nothing about him. And he figured that if he had to live in the shadows, letting no one in, he may as well enjoy himself every once in a while.
But tonight was not going well, the creeping tiredness signified that. All he had to do was go in, one swift movement over both of them, and then leave. Not hard, not even remotely difficult. He'd get his money and the people who were paying him would whatever thrill it was that they were seeking from their deaths. He'd been ready to go, knife in his hand, but the bear had left just as he was preparing to leave. He'd stormed out in a fit of rage, slamming doors and screaming. The viper had simmered in the corner, she was still there now, eyes fixed onto nowhere, sleep a million miles away.
They weren't called that, he had their real names somewhere on paper, but he didn't care to remember them. He always named his victims, almost in the same way that he created a new identity for himself with every new job. He doubted anyone knew his real identity anymore, and none of those who did would recognise him anyway.
The viper was the female of the pair, and she was fierce one. He needed to be wary of her, she lurked, saw everything, but waited until she could pounce, waited until she could be sure of effect. He'd seen her with the bear, watching him, she would wait until she could be sure she could make him pay, but when she did, he wouldn't survive it.
The bear appeared the more dangerous of the two, but he was so blinded by rage that he would be easy to get by. He reminded Martin of bears caught in traps, well of any animals caught in traps really, but bears were the animal the male reminded him of. He was caught on something, unable to get past it, but every time anyone went to help, he'd swipe them away. Martin had been quite amused by him.
He was not, however, amused right now. In fact he was furious. By leaving, the bear had messed everything up. Martin regarded his job as an art, planning the kill was almost as enjoyable as carrying it out. And although plans could be changed, he hated having to do that.
Oh, it would be easy. The viper would have to sleep soon, and then he would get her, one movement of his knife and she'd be dead. But the bear, he wasn't here, and that created a problem. It had to be done tonight, and Martin was hardly up for gallivanting across the city in search of him. He'd return, but that meant something that Martin shuddered even to consider. He would have to use a gun.
Settling down once more to wait, Martin promised himself several days in bed after this. He deserved it, after all, he'd be a million dollars better off tomorrow.