What I'd do for Love

Grey

The next day was calm. The trees gently rustled against the breeze, accepting the cool chill from the summer day. As par usual, I slept in, and when I woke up, it was about 9:00, which meant school started right now. Ah, fuck. It took me 15 minutes to get ready, and when I remembered I hadn't eaten lately, I took a piece of toast with me, eating it as I went. Turning the corner, I saw something I'd never seen in my 3 years of attending the school: a black Sedan. Windows tinted, paint polished, and gleaming. Being 3 years in, you start to notice that all the cars are the same. So a new one? And parked outside of our school? Huh. Stepping into the gate roved even weirder. There was a grappling hook attached to the top of the school. The most oddest shit I'd ever seen. For a second, I thought it was a prank. Yeah, obviously a prank. Some sixth former is spraying his tag on top of the school. Well I might as well check it out. The hook leached it's way onto the top of the main building, giving whoever was there full view of the whole school. That's pretty sweet. I've never seen the whole school, so the view couldn't be too bad. Even better, no one would know if I climbed up. I didn't have my knife on me (it'd stab me when I sat down) so what problem did I pose? None. Whoever was up there would have to answer to me anyway. In one swift motion that I'd never done before, I put my feet into the wall and hands around the rope. I don't even do leg day, so how I did this was beyond me. Slowly but surely, I started climbing towards the top. It took me about 10 minutes and a few pauses to do so, but I did. And, as I reached the top, I saw the fucking craziest thing.
There was a fully geared man holding a sniper.

The man aiming the thing looked about 30, and was built like a fucking tank. I'm surprised the roof didn't collapse when the bloke set up in it. The creature didn't even notice me stepping up onto his new set-up. He'd made himself a little stand for his sniper. Later I'd find out through a helluva lot of research, that the sniper was a Barrett 50. Caliber, with a .308 receiver, so who knows what ammo the thing was using? He also had a 9mm strapped to his thigh, glinting like the black sedan outside. I stood there for a few seconds, actually realising this was happening, and then breathed in a little too hard, as he gently put down the sniper, and quickly whipped out the pistol, spinning around and pointing it at my face, right between my eyes. His face had a snarling look about it when he saw me.
"What are you doin' 'ere then?" His voice was clearly British, and his words were clearly accented.
"I-I uh-..." I froze. The pistol aimed at my head broke me. Death was dancing right in front of me, asking me to join him. Come on, Grey. Think of something to do, or at least say...
"Gimme a good reason I shouldn't shoot yeh" he replied instantly.
"I'm a school boy, and I'll make a lot of noise hitting the floor?" I said, questioning my reason. The guy suddenly laughed and lowered the pistol.
"Not bad, kid. Not bad" The guy said. Now he was actually looking at me, the guy looked no older than about 17, and he looked more Londoner than British. How weird.
"Why are you up here?" I asked him, hoping I'd be able to leave with my head on my body. It wasn't much, or at least I hoped it wasn't. I'd never come up against a hitman. At least, I think he's a hitman.
"I've been paid to follow and take out a target. That's it." He said simply.
"Who?" I replied
"Why do you care? You could 'ate this lad."
"Well I might not. And then I'd have to do something." I said, trying to sound tough
"Well, id like to see you try, you runt." He spat
"Haha. At least you have humour. Who is it though?"
"Some lad named Ryan" the Hitman concluded the conversation, turning back around and re-focusing the sights on his sniper. With his attention on other things...
"Oh. Okay. Well I'm going." I slowly turned around, breathing slowly at the dodge I took. Almost out of here, Grey. Level head, level head...
"Oh, whoever you are?" The voice piped up. I turned back around, and saw the pistol restored in its former place.
"If you tell anyone, I'll snipe you. Out of the sky." The man promised.
"Your killing someone I would've. Trust me, I'm not upset about this." I told him.
"Good. Find me if you want a man dead." I caught those words as I climbed back down, thanking my lucky stars there wasn't a foreign object in between my face.

About 8 hours later, Ryan was shot in the head once, and instantly killed. I was involved with the witnesses at the time, and I was walking right past him in the city, as he was sniped. Right time, right place in. My favour. The bullet passed clean through his brain before ricocheting off of the pavement and taking out another innocent. People screaming and running around this dying lad. Ryan died with a surprised look on his face. The way he should've. I'm fairly sure that the cunt saw my face last, as I stepped up to him as he was bleeding out, looked him in the eyes, and said. "You shouldn't have tried to touch my love, or fucked with my friend. I have no idea how this happened, and I'm plainly surprised that you survived this long. Don't keep hell waiting. Bitch." I spat and ran. Someone stopped me and asked me what I was doing. I told them to shove it and shook them loose. The problem is is that as I did, they remembered my face. It wasn't really anyone important.
Only Lester

As I got home, I realised I hadn't really seen my family. I spent the rest of my day after school and after the city catching up and taking the rest of the time I could being with them. Sometimes, family is very good for relaxation, and I was really fucking relaxed for the rest of the day. If only the next day was this relaxed. As if I was a killer. As if I killed.
'You are a killer. But your killing for real, don't worry' The Mask bolster my spirits again.
'What would I do without you?'