John stood outside of a sound proof room, his new employer was inside handling a deal he couldn't be trusted to keep secret. John was doing his best to keep his nerves in check, it was his first job after all.
John kept on scanning his surroundings, there wasn't much. It was a dimly lit, wood panelled hallway with a door on each end. There were also two alcoves in the walls opposite of each other, each large enough to conceal a person.
This was supposed to be an easy errand, but John knew nothing involving him was easy. That's why when he heard a commotion coming towards him he wasn't surprised.
John readied his gun, he wasn't scared of killing someone, he'd done it before, the Ruska Roma made sure of that.
The door burst open and John didn't hesitate; he shot down the first person who entered, efficient and effective.
The next few attackers knew what was coming and came in guns drawn. John fired a few rounds as he dove into one of the alcoves.
"He's just some kid," John heard one of the men whisper, presumably to their leader.
John wasn't a kid, he never was. He wasn't a man either, he had to earn that and this job would. The ability to do things without the Ruska Roma's consent, to not have to train or study every moment of every day.
"You're not in too deep, kid," The leader spoke after a long pause, "I'll give you a chance, get out of my way, I won't tell you again."
John was in too deep.
He was raised by the Table. He served the Table.
If he survived but the job failed the direktor would kill him. He'd seen it happen to others who failed their final test.
He could never leave.
"Drop your gun, kid," The leader spoke, taking a step forward.
John listened silently as the thug took a few more steps, his footsteps were almost silent.
One final step, then John moved.
He shot the leader in the foot. As the leader was stumbling backward John knocked the gun from his hand and used him as a human shield to shoot at the other two goons in the room. Abdomen then head. They were quickly dispatched.
John spun the leader around and shot him in the head.
John stepped back and analysed his work, all the thugs were unmoving, the pools of blood around them getting bigger.
TW: Mentions of Blood
He wasn't out of the woods yet. He walked past the bodies and peered out of the open door. The yellow light was still flickering, illuminating the dead bodies and the blood splatter on the walls.
No one was moving, everyone was dead. But not John. He sighed, it wouldn't be the first time.
He went back and knocked the patterned knock on the door and collected his boss. John stayed vigilant as he escorted his boss to the car out back to find the driver deceased. His boss wasn't surprised.
Neither was John.
Whether John knew it or not, he just cemented himself into the world of the Table as a feared bodyguard.
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