Various Short Stories

Assassin

Through the hole in his head I could see the bullet hole in the wall behind him. I lowered my gun, a silenced FNH 5-7, top of the line with enhanced sights and a laser sight attached under the barrel, and surveyed my surroundings one last time making sure there were still no witnesses. I am a professional after all, how am I supposed to keep working if everyone knows who I am? I grabbed the body of my target and pulled him over next to his unconscious body guard, I took the bullet out of the wall, and shot him three times in the chest with the body guard’s weapon, then I shot through his face hole.

 I pushed the body guard to his stomach pulled his hands behind his back and then I screamed for help, after all, who would suspect the Good Samaritan who “apprehended” the killer? I jostled the body guard awake and he began to struggle against me. “HELP!!! THIS MAN’S A KILLER!!!” I heard people running, and I started to hit the body guard.

People ran in and began to help me “subdue” the “killer”. Soon enough the police were involved and I was telling them the bullshit story I’d made up before I even began the hit, like how I’d heard gunshots, and then I’d kicked the door down and disarmed the murderer, and here we were. They interviewed a few others who could for the most part confirm my story, as they hadn’t been in the room for the reality of the situation.

I smiled, this was going off without a hitch, the target’s body guard was drunk and was about to pass out, and the target was yelling, giving the body guard motive, and a nice little BAC, to further prove his guilt. I heard a loud thump but by then I’d already used the body guard’s key card to open the door and fire a single shot directly between the eyes of my target.

As I walked away from the building, my lips curled into a smile of satisfaction, another job well done, another customer pleased and more money for my precious Pricilla. As I boarded the bus going to the airport, my thoughts drifted to my past, as they often did after I finished a hit. I could remember every detail of the night my life changed forever.

Dark, quiet, the only noise that could be heard was the gentle whisper of the air conditioning during that hot summer night. I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, the basement was deathly cold, my heart beating fast, I was angry, hurt, and hateful. My life was in a down spiral and I was only 10. Family dying, friends leaving…you never really forget the ones that hurt you the most. My ears perked up at the sound of a creaking from upstairs, it was a long loud creak, almost as if the house was crying for the tragedy about to unfold.

The dog at my side growled, a low growl, barely audible but his chest was vibrating against my leg. I sat up in bed, and listened. Whispering, the dog growled again, louder this time, but not by much. “Shhh…” I whispered to him, “be quiet boy,” he looked at me head tilted, ears perked, as if to say, you hear them too?! I nodded in response, then I heard a door open, my parent’s room was right above mine. The dog growled again, this time loud enough for me to wince in fear of being discovered.

I swung my legs out from under the sheets and stood up. “Come!” the dog followed me, before I opened the door I commanded him to “Stay!” then walked out telling him to “Heel,” and like a good dog he obeyed, but I could see his muscles tense and his eyes widen, he could smell intruders in his home, and we were going right towards them.

He wasn’t a big dog, but he wasn’t small either, he was a German Short-Haired Pointer, white, with brown tick marks all over his body, a big brown spot on his side and a brown head, with some white hair thrown in around his mouth, giving him an aged look even though he was only six. The brown was so dark it actually looked black when he wasn’t in direct sunlight, and his body was all muscle, I don’t think I’d ever seen him stop running and playing, he was a very happy dog, and he was fiercely protective of his humans. His name was Daxter, or Daxy for short, and I loved him more than I’d loved anyone since, save maybe my daughter and her mother.

Together me and my faithful companion climbed the stairs quietly, I could hear someone whispering and then there was a cry of pain. I grabbed the dog around his neck and closed my hand around his muzzle, “Shhhh…we’ll get them soon enough Daxy,” his body relaxed as I whispered small words of comfort that I knew he couldn’t understand. I let go and continued on, pressing my back against the wall, I peeked around the corner. There were three men, clad in all black, they wore ski masks, and all carried silver pistols, weapons I know now as Desert Eagle, two of them whispered quietly while the third tied up my parents. In my parents room a lamp was turned on casting a grim light on the scene unfolding before me.

My mom and dad were both bleeding, but dad was worse, his nose was obviously broken, his lip was split, and he had a nasty bruise forming over his right eye. They were both unconscious and for the moment, safe. I stopped looking and slid down the wall, my heart was racing, my eyes had tears in them, and adrenaline coursed through my veins. It was dark enough in the hallway that I could probably sneak up on them, so in my youth I decided that was the best course of action.

I crept quietly towards them keeping my hand on the dog’s neck the whole time, his body tense, his legs ready to run, and pounce, the scruff on his neck bristled and he was ready to kill. I’d never seen him so…primal, so angry. I stroked his neck twice, then we were at the door. I couldn’t contain him any longer, Daxter ran forward and pounced. The intruders, cried out in surprise and fear, then there was a yelp, as my dog, my best friend was thrown into the wall, like any protective being he just got up and continued his assault. Another yelp as he was pistol whipped.

I was enraged that these men could do this to a defenseless family. The men were focused on my brave dog, and the one Daxter attacked first had dropped his gun. I reached for it, it was cold and heavy in my hand, and that was when I heard it six gunshots. Not one after the other, the first, and a yelp, my dog whined, a second and the whining ceased, then two more in rapid succession, and another two, my body froze, my mind screamed and my heart comprehended.

Dead…all dead…my dog…my parents…at those thoughts my paralysis ended and my focus sharpened, I saw things clearly, shadows of the trees outside, the dim light cast through the door from the lamp inside the room to my left. I could hear the men talking to each other, “I guess we should probably leave this place, you know before the cops show up,” then their footsteps. I turned the corner gun raised in my right hand, and pulled the trigger once, the lead burglar, stopped in his tracks, as a bullet pierced through his brain, twice, the one on the left took a bullet in the eye as he flinched away from the first, thrice, I caught the last one in the heart as he dove for cover behind my parents’ lifeless corpses…

The next few days were a blur, police reports, the orphanage and the realization of my life’s work, I was a killer, I am a killer, and I will always be a killer.