Psycho (Phan)

2

With the intention of devising a plan and fixing his hair, Dan went to have possibly the longest shower ever. Normally it was a system, normally he would wash and get out. Today, however, he stood and thought. He couldn't think of one single way to get this new mission even started, let alone finished quickly, especially if he didn't even know the last name of the victim. The victim could be anyone, or anywhere, but apparently they were nowhere.

Dan couldn't get to nowhere.

He walked out of the bathroom with his sweats hanging loosely around his hips. He pulled a grey cashmere jumper over his head as he walked into his living room, stopping dead when he walked through the door.

There was something not right about it, something different. Dan couldn't think what it was, scanning the room for any kind of sign. It was dark and he couldn't see much, but he could tell no one was in the room. Someone had been there though. He knew. He just knew, despite nothing having changed. He glanced at the stainless steel coffee table, tensing when he saw it. The MacBook was in exactly the same place, his wallet was balanced exactly where he'd left it, but there was a smudge. On the glass was a small, practically invisible mark that could only have been made by a finger that would not have been Dan's. Confirming Dan's suspicions, the fingerprint meant someone had been in his house, which meant they could still be in his house.

Dan remained deathly silent, his hand was creeping to his pocket. The small, five inch grey-silver blade he kept with him at all times grazed his finger, but he didn't pick it up yet, he just listened. It was too dark to see anything useful, so he shut them. He breathed, he stood, he listened, he felt. His instincts were on high alert and all his sense were tingling, poised and ready to react, the air around him vibrated with anticipation. 

The scene flickered like a black and white movie, finding precision in a grey spectrum. For a second, Dan smiled, then he turned around and punched the man behind him in the face.

Without hesitating, Dan pushed the stumbling man against the opposite wall. However, as he went to draw up his knife, the man knocked it out of his hand. The sound of metal clanging to the floor pierced Dan's ears, the muffled rustling of the two men was the only other sound as a cold hand clasped around Dan's wrist. The man was much bigger than Dan, far more experienced, and his lack of retaliation stunned Dan into losing his balance. After the split second of regaining himself, Dan looked up in time to feel his back slam against the grey stone of his kitchen wall. It was still almost pitch black. Dan was smaller, Dan was tired, Dan was cornered, yet the man still did not hurt him.

"You're losing your touch, Howell." The familiar voice broke the confusing moment. The light switch was flipped and bulbs lit the room immediately. Dan relaxed as his wrists were released and the pressure was taken off his whole body, the man opposite him smirked, clearly proud of himself for overpowering Dan. "You're not allowed to get caught this time, not with this job, especially this mission."

Dan said nothing as he walked into his living room, he sat down and looked enquiringly at the man. His name was Runt, unofficially. He'd worked for the bosses for years, but never risen high enough, he hadn't quite made it to the top. He was devoted, loyal, and not that bright, easy to talk to and hard-working. If a little messed up. They all were.

Runt sat on the floor across from Dan, rather than the sofa, and smiled.

"I came to talk to you. I saw your next mission. I had to deliver the file, and, uh, I figured they hadn't given you that much to go on." Dan nodded, waiting for him to continue. "I came here to tell you what I know."

"Could've used the doorbell" Dan said quietly, Runt laughed but ignored him otherwise.

"I think this mission is suicide" Runt burst out, looking at Dan and waiting for a response.