How To Not Make Conversation: 101

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Chapter Two

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Your POV

His stare was an unreadable gaze. He seemed confused; concerned, even. Even though I've never been one to worry about my own or other people's feelings, I was desperate to figure out what that expression on his face meant. He raised an eyebrow. Those didn't look real, by the way. He had to have drawn them on or something.

The building floor was cold. Freezing, really. It wasn't that comfortable to have an electric box behind my back blowing air at me.

Was it safe to stay here on top of this building now? The one I claimed as mine? Sure, it was just an average building, and yes- I did have a place to live, but it would kind of hurt to part with it just like that. I took a breath. If it meant I had a lesser chance of meeting those turtles again, hey. I would take it.

Taking one last look at the building's smoky night sky, I closed my eyes. The breeze was cold, just like the floor. I could hear cars endlessly honking at each other. The sound of their horns was like a child crying for his mother. Quiet chatter flooded the sidewalks. I could smell funnel cakes and hotdogs that came from food trucks. I won't lie, it made me a bit hungry.

I opened my eyes once again and grabbed a black backpack that was sitting beside me. It contained some snacks, some of my extra knives, and some money. The bag was tossed over my shoulders, and I departed the building for my final time.

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"Even if you might be able to kill and assassinate people routinely, I doubt it'll happen as frequently now that we're here."

"We'll take care o' ya?"

"Put you in your place?"

Hah. Funny.

I've been doing this for so long. Why have they finally shown up now? I've moved buildings, which means I can move to find new alleyways now, too. Besides, they're turtle monster things. They couldn't go that far to find me without being noticed, could they?

I'm starting to doubt my thoughts. The more I think about it, the more I want to remove the whole experience from my mind.

My apartment door clicked as I swiped a keycard against the lock. The door swung open with a given push and I stepped inside, shutting it behind me.

The room itself looked more like a hotel room than an apartment. From the entrance, you could see the slightly cobwebbed living room. The entire place was embedded with dark planked floorboards. The kitchen was right by the living room, and a bathroom was in a separate corner. Finally- my bedroom was in the back, a white, creaky door blocking it. I grabbed a soda from the fridge as I walked in and plopped down on the couch, sinking my back into it.

How should I be feeling right now, exactly? Should I remain alert with how I handle my job? Was it even a job? Should I be concerned that those mutants even existed? That they spoke to me? Or am I overthinking this? Yeah, yeah. That's gotta be it. The carbonated drink sparked in my mouth as I took a large sip.

I opened my computer, searching up the environment of New York City. As of previously, I normally rested on top of some random business tower. I scrolled through Google for a good while, occasionally picking up my phone out of boredom. Hey, there was a super tall university tower right by this weird looking pizza place! It always seemed a bit sketchy to me, but it was a populated location for targets.

Eastlaird University, was it?

I opened Google once again, looking up the location. Overall, it was a three-story building with some tall towers on the side.

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