Slum kids. Always underfoot. Hiding in places where there was no light, trying to hide from those that would like nothing more then to listen to them scream. Sometimes they make something of themselves.
o0o
The night was dirty, black, stained yellow in places where the street lights dared to hit it. Diving around these yellow patches was a suited figure. The man was young, fit, and terrified. He kept looking over his shoulder, passing through part of the lit street here and there, while frantically trying to maintain a foothold on the shadows. Then he saw them, eerie blue and mako green eyes shining at him from the other side of the street.
The pair of eyes loped across the street from him, never blinking, never looking away to navigate the light poles. He mis-stepped, blinding himself in the lamplight. When the suited man looked again, the eyes were gone. In the next moment, there, in the yellow light in front of him was the Turk.
Red hair was wild, falling into eyes that were so clear and steady they held his attention. Dark scars arched over the pale skin of his high cheekbones. The suited man wasn't given time to see the rest, in a flash, the Turk was gone, then beside him.
He saw the red knife before he realized his throat was cut. Staggering forward, the man's hands felt hot, he felt dizzy and sunk to the sidewalk. The red head looked down, though he didn't bother to check his victim for a pulse. It was best that way, no fingerprints, no trace that he had been there. Using the crook of his arm, the red head wiped the blade off. He almost walked away when something made him stop short. He snapped his head to the side, a malicious smirk on his face.
Someone was watching him.
o0o
Reno hated to be interrupted.
The two kids stood, hands in the air laughing nervously. One, around fifteen with shaggy hair and a deep voice started talking. "Hey, hey man. We- we jus wanted ta rob the guy… we don't want any-"
The boy fell backwards, a hole in his chest.
Reno's smirk spread to a smile, watching the second boy sputter. The muzzle of his death penalty smoked slightly, its silenced end working to perfection. He turned his eyes up to the second child. Younger then the first with the same bright eyes. He took one look at Reno, said nothing and fled.
Turk Manual: Section 43: Never allow a witness to a crime, silence all potential leaks without question.
Reno walked forward, not bothering to run. It was a dead end alley. With an amused laugh, he replaced the gun and lit a cigarette before walking after the child.
o0o
Frantic now, the boy was trying to reach a fire escape. He stacked a box on the top of a dumpster and made a desperate leap. Barely, he caught on, his feet touching the ground as his weight took effect on the springy ladder. His sigh of realize rushed back into his lungs. He was staring ahead, blue-green eyes shadowed by bright red bangs.
He let go of the fire escape, scrambling backwards until he fell against the brick wall. He stammered, only to be cut off as the red head grabbed his collar, slamming him into the wall. Then, smoothly, the Turk let him go, backing up slightly to peer down at him. "Why- why aren't you shooting me?" The boy asked, perhaps hoping that his age would save his life.
He thought wrong. Moving quickly, the Turk was suddenly beside him. The pain was too much to gasp for as the knife plunged deep into his ribcage. He looked over, though his vision blurred, into the smiling eyes of the Turk. What he heard, last in the world was a deep voice, full of laughter. "I just like to get my hands dirty."
o0o
Reno laughed, then twisted. The boy's rib snapped and his eyes went wide. Jerking the blade free Reno looked at it, watching the liquid drip to the dirty alley. Once again he wiped the blade off and snorted, those stupid slum kids, always underfoot. Sometimes they make something of themselves.
And sometimes, they don't.