TRICKED

PROLOUGE - 2

J.

I slide behind my mark of today with Lethal and silent steps just like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

My mark of today- Jacob Ricci- doesn't even notice, my presence and walks down behind cheap bar's back and dark alley with his guard down as if there's no predator waiting for his life behind his back. Che scemo. (What an idiot)

I still don't understand how come idiots like these manage to do something risky and reckless like back stabbing or more.

And then I have to clean up their messes. Well I'm not complaining. My hands are always hungry to feel their skin slice and the fucking fountain of blood to cover my chosen weapon.

It's always soul relaxing to know you're in control. That their life is in your hands. And to know- they deserve it. There was a time when I wasn't in control and that was also the last time when I felt vulnerable. I paid the price and learned my lesson. From then there's not been a single fucking day when I'm not in control in whatever the fuck I do. Nobody can play with it anymore. I don't fucking allow it.

Jacob here not only back stab the ones who provides food on his table but he also has killed and raped innocent children. Well- I'm no people protector in any means but this gives me the reason to slice my mark without a fucking hesitation. knowing he deserves even more.

I pause behind him as he faces the side wall and pulls out his small dick to empty himself out. The stink of piss feels the air as I slowly take out my today's chosen weapon from my inner pocket. A knife. Il mio preferito. (My favourite)

I don't wait for him to tuck his small limp dick in his jean and launch for him. I put the knife only half an inch away from his jugular and cover his mouth with my other gloved hand. He scrambles a little but stirs completely when I push the knife on his skin around the neck. Not too much but enough to pour a little droplet of blood.

I can feel his panic and almost hear his heartbeat thumping with loud drums. His fear for his life feels like a soothing balm on my burning wounds.

"Hey Jackie" I say In a mocking whisper, clutching his mouth shut tight when he muffles something. Probably begging for his life or to ask stupid fucking questions like- who are you? What are you doing...etc. etc. they don't get to know it though. No body does.

"Back stabbing should only be done when you have big enough balls to face the consequences." I continue as if I'm reading a fucking story book to a child and not pulling the life out of him.

His eyes widen and the stronzo (asshole) starts to shake like a leaf before he pisses his pants ones again.

Fottutamente patetico. (Fucking pathetic)

"those children you raped and killed are waiting for you." my voice turns lethal and brute right before I slice his throat open with the razor sharp knife. His eyes rolls back as the life leaves out of his body and he slumps on the dirty alley like a jello.

I wipe the knife on my black pants and smirk. "Goodbye Jackie."

The tiny bluetooth in my ears vibrates with an indication of a call. I tap the smaller than my nail device twice and soon the familiar voice filters through my ears.

"Check your phone." The bossy undertone will never cease to piss me off.

"Hello to you too? Jackie would be offended in hell that you didn't ask about him. Don't care if he's dead or alive?" I mock in the tone that I know, gets on his nerves.

"I'm sure you've done your work." The sign comes first before the words.

"That I did and I assume you'll take care of the body as usual." I huff out a breath in exaggeration "What's in my phone?"

Probably something new to add on my work.

"Your new mission." Comes the all serious tone that demands no nonsense.

"Mission?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"Si(Yes). This is something very important and I want you to do the deeds. It's probably the longest mission we will ever have. We can't fail. Non e un'opzione (that's not a option)."

"Finalmente pensi che io sia pronto?" (You finally think I'm ready?) I ask in a tone that is masked with coldness but I can't show vulnerable emotion like hope even though I feel it.

"Sei piu che pronto (you're more than ready)."

Pride fills my body but I don't show it in my voice when I ask. "What's the mission?"

"To bring information about someone. Every little detail. Everything you find about them."

"You're telling me to keep an eye on someone?"

"Si."

"Chi? (Who)"

"I sent you a picture. That's why I told you to check."

I pluck out my phone and open the chat. I tap on the picture and it starts to download slowly. I tap my phone screen impatiently.

"Pazienza (patience)"

I roll my eyes at the bossy attitude. Well practically I am talking to my boss. Just not in good, commercial job like a normal person would. That doesn't exist in our lives. Normal, I mean. What normal for us is this. Blood, kill, death.

It would probably give a commoner a heart attack when they figure the definition of normal is different in our dictionary.

The picture finally comes in the view and piercing blue eyes with almost black hair stare back at me in a glare. If I wouldn't know I'm staring in my phone and not in real, i would probably say, this person could kill a devil with just glare.

"Intimidatorio (intimidating)" I say in a mocking tone.

"What did I teach you? Underestimating is stupidity."

"I'm not underestimating." I pause and lock my phone back before continuing. "Who's this?"

"Our biggest enemy at the moment."

Interesting. Very interesting.

face seems familiar and not in a good fucking way. I don't know how but I feel it in my every nerve that this person's gonna be the toughest one to break. But they will. Eventually. Cause I will find their fucking weakness. They all have one.

"So? What do you want me to do now?"

No matter how dangerous this person is, if my people are behind them for something, they probably gonna wish to be dead after how their life's gonna turn from now on.

I'm very much loyal to my people. At least to the one who made me who I am today. And I won't ever fucking disappoint them. If they're asking me for something, they'll get it on a silver fucking plate.

To be continued...