Tried For Error

0 | 1 ~ Insane, a bitch, sweetheart

THE sky was clear and the night was quiet.

Too quiet.

The only sound that could be heard was the whistling of the wind, causing a strand of hair to fall in Scarlett's face. She sighed heavily, shoving it behind her ear, only for it to free itself again against her wishes. With little time to waste, her steps glided to the front door of her newly assigned target: a lonely man, seemingly only living off the rush of gambling away all his life's worth every month.

Biting her lip, she convinced herself just to hold on until midnight and then this would all be over. She was in no way fond of this target seeing as he was only wasting her time, and knew exactly why she was here in the first place.

***
"HE still owes me! Of course, me being the kind man that I am, I gave him enough time to pay me back, but time is money you see..." He took a swig of the dark liquid in his prostine crystal glass. In no mean did his eyes reflect the kindness he spoke of. "Killing him now would be an inconvenience for me, just... you know... do what you do best, but stop before his heart does, okay? This is what that rat gets for breaking a deal with the Brown Pillagers gang!"

What a fucking killjoy. He is so infatuated with his big name and theatrics that he took all the damn fun out of the mission. Scarlett pouted.

Maybe next time I will actually get the pleasure of killing my target again.

"With his ribs broken or whatever, tell him who sent you. Make sure the message gets to him loud and clear, alright doll?"

She nodded her head, her eyebrow slightly twitching as she ended the call.

All this over 4 million dollars... Why is everyone in this city so dramatic?

According to the e-mail, the target's name is Damian Coldwell and was last seen at the 'Regal Plume Casino'. Scarlett had already payed him a visit at the casino, but she had gotten bored watching as he tried flirting with various young women and decided to suprise him at his own apartment instead.

***

HERE she was; standing at his front door as darkness surrounded her. It is, after all, a horrible idea to attack in broad daylight. There was a flickering lamp at the end of the road that looked like it had definitely seen better days. It cast an eerie glow that illuminated her figure, yet she felt at ease knowing that everyone who lived in this poor area had long gone entered a state where their dreams would entertain them for the night.

Scarlett jiggled her target's apartment door knob and found it locked. She expected as much. It was convenient for him for now and less so for her.

Sighing once again, she bent down to inspect the lock. Her lips curled up into a devious grin, an easy fix. Just a spring latch without a deadbolt, easier than taking candy from a sleeping baby. Droping her small backpack on the ground, she quickly unzipped it and withdrew her black leather gloves that probably cost more than the target's furniture and apartment combined. Once she was sure that the gloves were secure on her hands, she took out a plastic card to open the lock with.

Scarlett started off by pressing gently on the door with her non-dominant hand, increasing the amount of pressure until a small space, big enough for a card to slip through, opened up. Placing the card above the doorknob in a downward angle, she slowly started wiggling the piece of plastic deeper into the gap. When it met resistance, she pressed away from the knob and applied greater pressure to the latch.

The door started giving in and she pushed one last time. It immediately opened up; welcoming her into the unkept interior.
Standing up straight, she adjusted the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and entered the little apartment. As soon as she slipped through the doorway, the nauseating smell of rot and urine overwhelmed her. Her eyes watering, she kept pushing forward, trying not to breathe in too deeply.