Assassins With Money

Introduction

Intro

3rd Person POV

"Don't believe the rumors, bitch, I'm still a user. I'm still rockin' camo and still roll with shooters. I'm a villain in my city, I just made another killin'."

The street lights flickered on and off as the last few cars made their trip back home. Condensed clouds rolled into the gloomy sky, as the quiet night ends with the sound of gunshots echoing throughout the empty streets. It was a warning for people to stay inside unless they were looking for trouble. Low, deep laughter was audibly heard from the distance, coming from the vile groups that hid in the depths of the allies. Different groups gathered at night to spoil their thirst for money and blood. The stray dogs that litter the streets wandered and looked around the dumpsters for leftover food and scraped trash.

A man's fast-paced footsteps echoed in the alleys of Pittsburgh, Atlanta. He knew that he was messing with some corrupt people and that his greed for money would end up destroying him.

Before things get worse, he needed to leave or else they would find him. But it was too late, little did he know that he was playing with the devil. He suddenly stops underneath the streetlight, his pounding heartbeat thumped in his ears. With his shaky hands, he pulled out a lighter and cigarette. His fingers fumbled with the switch as mumbled curses swore from his mouth.

"The damn lighter won't work," he growled chucking the metal lighter onto the wet road.

Her eyes were low and red from the blunts that she had smoked earlier. The Hennessy rushed through her veins quickly. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. The car screeched as she roughly turned into a narrow alley. Quickly, she slowed down the speed of the car. Her bloodshot eyes searched around for the man she was hunting.

There he was.

The street light above shone on his black, short hair. The 5'9, light-skinned man stood there with an unlit cigarette, leaning against the brick wall. Graffiti painted all over it.

Just by looking at him made her blood boil.

She reached out to her glove compartment, taking out her customized golden gun. Her fingers brushed over her initials carved onto the gun, J.K.

This wasn't new to her. Robbing people. Killing people. Scamming people. Kidnaping people and making them vanish as if they never existed. Bloodshed has been in her family for years. But if she could, she would trade it all for a normal life. But she couldn't, she was raised in this fast-paced, sinful life. It runs in her blood. J.K. runs a whole crew, and those are the only people she trusts in this dirty game.

The moonlight shone upon her newly done nails, which were wrapped around the gun. She sighed, is a few hundred worth a man's life? No, it wasn't. But, by letting him free, everyone would start to see a mellower side of her. Something that she couldn't afford.

She has a name in this city and it sure as hell isn't going away soon.

She got out her of black Bentley. Her heavy black boots pressing against the gravel as she walked closer.

J.K.'s stoned eyes gazed at the back of his head as if she was looking right through him. She could shoot him right in the back of his head and walk away, but that wouldn't be any fun.

He slowly turned around to meet her eyes as his widened. Fear dominated them. She chuckles darkly, slowly walking towards him.

"Here," she took out a lighter out of her pocket. "Light one up for me too," she demands.

The man looks at her with skepticism. He slowly reached out with his trembling hand, lighting the cigarettes as droplets of water fell from the grey overcast.

"Tell me who helped you with this Jaćo," She asked as her eyes glared into his.

"Helped me with what," Jaćo cluelessly questioned, taking a hit of the smoke.

She threw her head back in laughter, the moon shone on her devil eyes at tiny droplets met her face, trickling down past her glossed lips and down her neck.

She shook her head in disbelief, "I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?"

Jaćo could smell the heavy scent of smoke from her red Bape hoodie over the scent of wet streets.

His last glimpse of hope, surviving from the wild tiger, was irretrievable as the golden metal pulled up to his forehead.

"Please don't kill me! I'll pay you back! Give me a few more days!" Jaćo pleads, dropping the cigarette. His eyes search into hers, looking for any mercy.

But that was the remarkable thing about J.K. She didn't show mercy for anyone. Her heartless, cold eyes stared back into Jaćo's. Jaćo realized that it was the end for him. The air was cold and crisp as the wind started to blow in following the droplets.

"Any last wishes?" She asked with a lifeless expression, her eyes gleaming with the thought of killing.

Jaćo closed his eyelids as his lips trembled. "Save me," He whispered as the rain drops littered the concrete.

The shot of the gun echoed throughout the alleys into the streets silencing the rain for a moment. A pool of his blood spilled over the sidewalk, oozing into the gutters as it began to wash away from the rain. The thunder seemed to crack the air as if the heavens were splitting apart. Only causing more heavy droplets of water to fall.

Jaćo's lifeless body laid there. She made her way back into the leather seats of her Bentley. She concluded to leave the body there.

It was time to let the city of Atlanta know the consequences of messing with their crew.

~~~~~~~

sorry for dipping, but we're backkkk :)