Agent 16

Chapter 1

He ran straight into a deadend, a conclusion I had come to minutes ago as he attempted to escape his fate. I had been following him through his maze of twists and turns, but I knew he would end up in this exact spot. I had been watching him for weeks, and by the end of the ordeal, I had picked up on his mannerisms and patterns. Left, left, right, left, right, right, left, right, left, left, deadend. It wasn't a hard pattern to follow, so I simply met him where I knew he was going to end up. Might as well save myself the hassle.

"Why are you doing this? I don't understand why this is happening," he cried. That was always what they screamed out. Why? Who wanted this to happen? Why now? But they had a family.

I don't know who and why, but I know when and where. I was paid a generous amount to assainate the people sent to me over email. The server was unhackable - believe me I had done my damn hardest, enlisting the help of one of the world's top hackers. No dice.

"Oh, Greg. You've been a naughty, naughty boy," I crooned, twisting my switchblade in my hand. "You know exactly why I'm doing this."

A sheer look of panic covered his face, making his pasty complextion pale even more than it already was. His face had a sheen layer of sweat covering it, glowing ominously in the horrid lighting we had in the hallway.

"It was once! I sent those codes once! Why are they just now tracking me down?" he exclaimed. I pretended to know what he was talking about, hoping he wouldn't realized I didn't have the nearest clue as to why any of this was happening.

"Oh, Greg, honey. They've been tracking you for ages now! For seeming so smart, you sure are pretty dull," I taunted, pulling a pouty face. Anger crossds his face, but immediately went back to the look of panic.

"Please don't do this. I have a wife and two children, another on the way. I need to be there for my family. I'm begging you." I was used to this excuse by now. It didn't phase me like it had in the beginning. The emotional part of me had been blank and void for some years now, escaping as I continued to murder people in cold blood.

"Well, I guess this is gonna be real hard them isn't it?" I take the moment to strike, piercing the skin deeply where his heart rested. I could hear him choke, the sudden movement being the last of his life. I lean close and whisper in his ear, "Unfortunately, my pay grade doesn't require me to care."

I twist the knife inside his chest cavity before removing it and shoving his body onto the floor. He looks up at me, blood dripping from his mouth and his eyes glazed over as his life slowly begins to slip from him. I walk away, leaving the man to die alone in the dimly lit hallway.

I don't really remember a time when this wasn't who I was. My mother had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer when I was fourteen. By the time they had found it, they were able to give her treatment. She came out healthy and happy that she once again had control of her life. On my sixteenth birthday, instead of getting a new car like most teens would wish for, I ended up in the hospital, being told that my mother's cancer had come back and spread throughout her entire body. She was stage four and there was nothing they oculd do to help her, except make her comfortable so she could die happily.

She passed away seventeen days later as I held her hand while we both slept.

My father had taken off from my family when I was just nine. My younger sister had just been born and he apparently couldn't take responsibly of a second life form he had created by not wearing a condom. He was never in the picture, so when my mother passed, I was left responsible for my little sister. We had no family left and I could pass off as eighteen. I began to receive emails. Not ordinary ones, the ones you get when you're part of a subscription for a store. But weird ones that used to send chills down my spine.

They began only a few short weeks after my mom had died. It told me that they had been watching me for a while and they had a way to help me if I had a way to help them. I was immediately curious, responding to the emails asking who was contacting me and what they wanted from me. Instead of receiving a proper response back, I was given a name and that they wanted me to kill her. I was outraged. Jennifer Sandoval seemed like a good name, the name of a person who didn't deserve to be brutally murdered by someone who had no idea who she was or what she did. I only received the sum I would be transferred if I made the kill.

The money was what sent me over the edge. I was in desperate need of money so I could pay bills and keep food on the table for Isabella. She had gone without proper nutrition for a while now, always complaining that her tummy was hungry and nothing we had ever sounded good to her. I don't blame her. Stale saltines and browning lettuce didn't seem very appetizing to me either. After I killed Jennifer, I was given the money and I immediately took Isabella out for a meal at her favorite restaurant.

I haven't looked back at my profession since. My younger sister is more important and deserves to have a roof over her head and food in her stomach. She was too young to remember a time when I wasn't disappearing in the middle of the night to go off and earn us money, so we had created our routine based around when I needed to go out and make plans or kill someone. She had never known what I did to get money, and I intended to keep it that way.

After sending the email confirming that Greg was dead and where I had left his body, I shut my phone off, knowing that I would find more money in the bank account tomorrow morning when I woke up. After all, I was pretty good at what I did for a living. Otherwise, I wouldn't be Agent 16.