Pieces of a Puzzle

Worthy of Burning

A/N: This is a daily writing prompt that I developed and finished so I am breaking my own code. Hope you enjoy! Sorry it's longer than the others!

I steady my hand against the church's furthermost wall. I do not want to be a part of such a world in which the living speaks of the mischievous dead as generous, kind and loving.

A woman separated herself from the crowd, a reflection of my exact emotions strangled to her face. Noticing me, she grins.

"He had it coming." She says, not minding the feelings of those around.

I scoff, "You have never spoke more truthfully."

She shrugs. "The junkies didn't show up on time, though. It was almost a missed opportunity."

I pull out my phone and show her the messages. "They said it was traffic."

She laughs, openly and carelessly, "Yeah, well, excuses don't get the job done."

I shake my head. I glance around the oak walls and catch sight of eyes wandering in our direction. She has got to quiet herself before we get caught. "The job is done," I say, trying to shift the conversation to other matters. It was attracting more attention than necessary. "Anyhow, how did the rest of your night go?"

She shrugs, "Pretty smooth, I guess. Considering the events..." She rattles off, staring at the other guests. She notices all of the features mingled within the family: the long scars for initiation, tattoo on the left arm of the family seal, and the same fake smile hiding the true emotions of fear, confusion and anger. She faces me again, a certain brightness to her face. Her smile grows wider and she reaches into her pocket to grab the signal.

Sometimes, I wish not to hear the phrase. I understand what my job entails, what I must do. Sometimes, I don't want to do it. I look into their eyes and smile at them, like we have some pathetic connection. Other days, though...I can't say it fast enough.

She has the gleam in her eye. Like every time. Right before we do what we do best. I ask, with no emotion and no thought, "Want to go outside for a smoke?" She grins, with no emotion and no thought. We do that best, too.

We walk a short distance until we are out the doors. No one else is outside. Everyone must be inside for the funeral, I think. She looks at me, as she grabs the door closest to her. I grab the other door and pull the lead pipe from my pants leg, the one I use for every job. In synchronized motion, we close both doors and I slide the pipe quickly into the door handles. I take a look into one of the windows, in hopes that no one has noticed our actions. From what I can tell, no one has even moved an inch.

We both turn and take a stroll through the grass, no thought in mind. She offers the signal to me and I take a cigarette from it. I pull my signal from my pants pocket and light the cigarette. I take in one drag as I feel the intense heat of our job burning at our sides. At the feel of heat, we turn and face the aftermath. A few moments pass before she asks, "Do you think I can get a light off of that? Or do you think it would burn me?"

I laugh, like she hasn't asked that every single time we do this. I turn to her and say, like always, "You always try. But, remember, if you get to close..."

"...you might get burned." She finishes. Her laugh fills the hot air already between us.

I can't help but laugh myself. Funerals are already dark enough. Besides, the funeral has ended. The way it should have ended.