Killing The Silenced

Killing The Silenced [0] The Assassin

Warning: In this story contains violence and some language.

Alright, this was a story I started a three years ago and I went back and refreshed a bit. This is an assassin story and for now this is just the preface. I'll upload the next chapter in a second.

All rights reserved

© Kalee E 2008

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The lives that I've taken,

The souls that I've stolen,

The path that I've chosen,

Have never been my choice,

But just pure instincts.

-Sean Faith

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Eyes glazed over when the man before him dropped to his knees weakly, a red substance gushing about while inching in every direction. Blood spurts from his mouth and wounds as he tried to breathe through the liquid, but fails in his desperation. Though a small cut was the reason for this calamity, it was placed near a very special artery that held access to the man's precious supply of life. It wasn't long until those timeless seconds ran out and he was faced with the gates of death.

From above, a man only watched in mild interest till the form of what used to be a human being was now a lump that reeked of death. Grinning, he took a minute to admire his work before wiping his blade, ridding any drops of the scarlet liquid that had stuck to it. During this, his features remained pleasant despite the gloomy situation.

"I was hoping you'd be a little more careful about killing him with a clean swipe, but that's just asking too much isn't it?" A voice spoke from behind him, stepping cautiously next to the man within the dimly lit room. Through the specks of light one could make out a classy business suit with fitted slacks, a pair of expensive looking shoes, and a darkened grin that completed his ensemble. He rubbed his thick red beard as he walked past the murderer, chuckling as he loomed over the dead silhouette.

Suddenly he kicked the body, looking over to see if it was moving at all as though to make sure that the victim was truly dead. Seeing no life, he kicked it again and repeats like so. His chuckle became louder as his eyes shown slight fragments of insanity.

"Look at you, not talking any more are ya? Haha! No more crap to say right, bud? Can't ya speak? Nope, guess you can't. Cause you're just dead!!" The crazy man ranted on, repeatedly kicking the lifeless body as though half expecting it to rise and fight back, but instead it just remained still. From the assassins view he could see that the body's solemn face never showed any trace of feeling from each hit it took.

'It's people like him who make this world seem much more hideous... well I don't care as long as I get my pay.' The assassin murmured under his breath, gazing onward as insanity took over the man to his right. "My job is done here." He reported lazily, seeing that his employer had finally discontinue his onslaught on the body. With his sharp sight he could see that his employer's eyes where dancing with

"What? You expect me to clean this up myself?" He questioned in exasperation, dropping his now soaked shoes to the floor facing the other.

"My job is clear. You call. I kill the target. It's a done deal." The assassin remarked with indifference, his eyes never swaying from the flustered man.

"I asked you to kill him, but you won't get paid without helping me first. If you want your money that is..." He snickered at the last part, knowing that was the only reason the assassin bothered to kill victims in the first place.

"Shouldn't it satisfy you that he's dead?" He inquired apathetically, leaning his back against the cold bricks that lay waste within the abandon building. At one time this place was probably a very beautiful hotel that attracted many visitors back in its prime. Yet, now here it lies to waste in the Manhattan sun, decaying every so silently with whispered of its once glorious past.

"Yes, but I also need help disposing the body! If you don't, you won't get the money!" His client stated as he patted a pocket on his chest; a little tan envelope peeking out from it container as the man snickered once again. The sound of a light buzzing echoed slightly through the dense air, causing both the assassin and the man to freeze their movements.

"What is that?" The man inquired worriedly, his brown eyes showing a sign of fear. The assassin only shook his head in dismay at the other man's behavior. Reaching into his jean pocket, he displays the trivial object that had caused the interruption.

"My phone." flipping it open, he took his sweet time raising it to his ear, listening to the silence on the other line. He didn't even need to guess who was calling him at this time.

"Who is it?" The man snapped impatiently, anxious to know whether it was the cops or not.

"A friend." He breathed, fighting the urge to break the man's wind pipes. Said man only snorted to this response. Too bad he wouldn't be able to do that for long.

"Oh good grief, tell him that your busy, I need help here!" He waved his hand into the body's direction with a slender look of nervousness. This man had obviously been spoiled throughout his childhood and didn't like to do things himself.

"Fine," was all the assassin said and listened to the other line once again, waiting for the others reply. On the other said, he could hear his boss sigh with annoyance, overhearing the red breaded mans words from

"Is he dead?" A cold whisper hisses harshly on the other line, making the killer glance back before replying to the person on the other side of the line.

"Hold that thought..." Still gripping the phone near his ear, he quickly pulled out a knife from his left boot, making sure to watch the man who was still too busy cleaning the body before him at all times. Strolling over, he could see that the bleeding from the body had finally stopped thanks to a cloth his client had placed around his neck and stomach.

"Such a bloody job you do...how can you work like this?" The man grunted through his teeth, trying very hard not to destroy any more of the displaced stomach that the assassin had found quite enjoyable to do. Even though the small slit on his neck would have done the job well enough, he was always fond of bloody kills.

Shrugging, the other man only continues to walk casually, nearing his employer while keeping his blade hidden from his view.

'To easy.' He thought to himself, mentally planning out the man's demise before him.

Halting to a stop, he towers over the man, expressionless. Too bad the man was too dense to even know something was up.

"Well, are you going to just stand there or are you going to-" he was cut off shortly when he felt cold steal jab into his heart. Choking, blood began to drip from his lips and slowly stain his reddish beard into a pure scarlet color. Weakly turning he felt the blade leave his body and within seconds fell face first to the floor. He was never able to choke out a cry before the body completely stilled from blood loss.

"Good night." The assassin muttered in a sing along fashion, smirking as he leaned down and gladly took the envelope from the body. He was even more pleased when he found that the envelope had escaped the bloody mess without even a mark. Returning his attention to the phone, he dialed back to the recent caller, waiting till the sound of ringing haunted his hearing.

"Well?" The frosty voice demanded grimly, only making the assassins smirk turn to a wide grin. He didn't even need to turn around to know that his job was done here.

"Yeah.." he replied, kicking the dead man in the chest with his boots.

"He won't be moving anymore."