Y/n POV
As I get ready to kill some asshole that some female has payed me to do. I got a call from her and here's what she says.
???: Hey, call it off.
Me: What?! Why?!
???: Just call it off, alright?
Me: Okay, sure let me put on my sparing face on.
???: Really?
Me: I was being sarcastic, but I'm just going to kill him. And also I needed that lien.
???: I don't care just call it off
Me: Then I have to kill your "friend".
*Few arguments later*
???:... Fine... just do it.
Me: Finally, fuck.
I walked off to where am I supposed to kill this guy. I open his file and his name is... interesting. I got into position and aim my gun name: "Vengeance". I waited until he finally came out, and I took a shot. And it missed, and he pissed his pants and runs away.
Me: Don't know if I should be pissed or should be laughing... definitely laughing.
I laughed as he runs away, and his pants is all soaked up from his piss. After that I call her and tell her it was a fail attempt.
???: Have you back-stab him?
Me: I'm not his friend, Blak- oh shit sorry.
Blake: That's fine, as if anybody can hear us.
Me: Why do you want to kill him so bad?
Blake: He... he just won't leave me alone.
Me: Want me to give him a prize for that?
Blake: Would you stop!
Me: Well I gotta go, I gotta torture someone to half death then leave them to starve.
Blake: You don't have to say that to me!
Me: Well I don't care, gotta go and if you wanted to kill him then I suggested pay me more then a thousand.
I hang up and walk to a abandoned warehouse which lays four people I kidnapped.
Me: Alright which one of you deserves a nice beating.
I grab a wrench, and swing it to a guys leg. He screams loudly but I taped his mouth to keep him from screaming.
*Timeskip*
Me: Alright I'll be right back to set you free... *Laughter*
I left them leaving them to starve then I get a call from someone.
Me: Hello?
???: I need you to kill someone.
Me: How much are you offering me?
???: I only got seven thousand.
Me: Who's the guy.
???: Well... it's a girl, and she currently is at Beacon.
