"It's show time, Ross," a disembodied voice said from his invisible Bluetooth. The blond stood rooted, conflicted in his mind. "Ross," the voice intruded. "Are you there, Mr. Lynch?"
Ross vigorously shook off the uncomfortable feeling that began to rise in his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick. "Yes, sir. I'm here," he retorted. "Another day, another dollar, Mr. Lynch." Oh boy, this job was never easy, but the boy knew how desperately he needed the money. "Remember that?" The voice questioned, a little bitterly, causing Ross' mood to be slightly unfazed.
'It's nothing new,' the boy thought. "Yes, sir." Ross nodded in agreement, although, he still felt very disoriented. He hadn't realized he'd been breathing heavily. "Ross?"
Ross remained his normal composure, reassuring that nothing was the matter whatsoever. "I'm sorry, sir." He retorted. Ross Lynch was never one to get nervous, let alone show it. However, not today. "Mr. Lynch...I think I would like to have a brief discussion with you." Okay, now he was dead.
"But sir-" however, he was cut off in a matter of seconds. "I want you to head back to the Federal Assassin Agency (F.A.A) and meet me in my office. Now, Mr. Lynch." Oh shit. 'I'm dead. I'm screwed! Why the hell did I ever agree to this damn contract?!' So many questions began swarming in his bewildered mind.
Once again, the blond had been interrupted from his apprehensive thoughts. "Do you hear me, Mr. Lynch?!" Ross cringed at the sound of his boss's loud and irritated tone coming from the other side of the line. He was definitely not pleased at all. "Y-yes, sir. Loud and clear." Ross stuttered. The voice sighed, tiredly. "Whatever is up with you, Ross, I won't have it. Do you understand?"
The blond inhaled and confidently said, once again, "Yes, sir." You'd think that for a murderer, he'd have no manners, right? No. In fact, Ross Lynch was one of a kind. Most killers would go work together to get the job done, but Ross, he was someone special. He preferred to ride solo. Because truly, you can't trust anyone. Especially someone who is a contract killer.
Besides, Ross has his own methods. Who needs weapons? You know the saying, "looks can kill"? Well, he definitely has the looks. He can lure you in to oblivion, next thing you know, you're dead. That's it. Once he's hidden the evidence, he's gone with the wind. Never to be caught redhanded, but making five grand for every victim he gets the chance.
Although, it took him less than ten minutes to get where he was needed at this very moment, which he was dying on the inside, he couldn't help but wonder as well, what the hell was up with him?
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That was chapter one for you! I hope you enjoyed reading.
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The Hit-man (Raura)
Fanfiction[COMPLETE] After realizing that Ross' family had cut him off for his change in behavior and attitude, he was out of luck and on his own. Years later, he joins the Federal Assassin Agency and gets paid for every victim he takes down. But one day, his...
