Short Stories ~ Nomi

THE SHORTYS: "Danger and Diapers" (𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪)

⚠️TW; killing, blood

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Prompt: This is the definition of a morally gray character.

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"So, what do you say? Can you... take care of them?"

"Of course, I can. Are they dangerous?"

"Pshhh, the Callisters? Nah. They just owe us money. More than they'll ever be able to pay off. Their organs, on the other hand?" my employer smirked, "Well, you get the idea."

"Yeah. But I expect my payment upfront."

"Ah, of course. Here ya go, Gun."

I was handed not an expensive leather suitcase like I was used to, but an oil-stained duffel bag. I checked the contents, somewhat skeptical, but they checked out: 30K in cash, just as promised.

I nodded, "Consider it done."

"Don't make me regret this." the employer watched his money exchange hands with a somewhat pained look on his face.

I hefted the bag over my broad shoulder and left to stash it safely in my car.

It would go towards the new apartment I'd been saving up for, but before I could spend it, there was something I had to do.

~•~

The gate was chained shut and locked with a padlock. I assessed the situation and decided it would be easier to break open the lock than to scale the tall, pointy fence.

I retrieved a packet of red phosphorus powder and a box of matches from one of my many pockets. I turned the lock upside-down and began carefully filling the keyhole with the red phosphorus.

Once it was packed in, I stuck a match in so that the red end was sticking out. Then I lit it and took a step back.

A small explosion sounded from inside the lock and it popped open.

I unraveled the chain holding the gates together and pushed them open, not bothering to close them behind me.

I crossed the front yard in fifteen long strides and picked the lock of the front door effortlessly with a small silver tool.

I took out a small spray bottle and quickly oiled the hinges of the door, just in case, before opening it and stepping inside. I'd almost been caught before because of creaky doors and wasn't going to risk it.

The soft soles of my shoes made no noise on the carpet as I made my way through the house. The house itself was deceptively nice for people who had so much debt.

I found the bedroom easily and this time I didn't bother with discretion: it was too late for them.

I opened the door and it swung open noisily. I turned the safety off on my pistol and almost lazily aimed it at Brandon Callister's forehead.

Him and his wife had woken up when the door had opened and were sitting up and blearily rubbing their eyes.

"What's happening..?" Mrs. Callister asked groggily, looking around the room in confusion.