Tainted Knives

01| Survival

A S H E R

"Jonathan, do you exist?" Asher whispered through the two way radio, hiding behind metal cans and walls. His hand was fiercely gripped around his gun, his position sharp. 

He was in a dangerous place.

The boss asked them to retrieve weaponry from the enemy's territory. It would have been completely avoided if the bosses from the two gangs had proper relations and not too much ego.

And purely because of their ego, well, people had to die.

"Yes Asher, I exist," Jonathan murmured into the radio. 

The boss had just sent the two of them.

They were enough.

"How many of your side?"

"Four. You?"

Asher smirked, aiming the gun on the head of the building. If he could kill him without leaving evidence, then life might be a lot more easier.

"Zero."

Asher shot into the man's head by using a silencer. Getting one was expensive, but it was very worth it.

Asher hated killing. At least, he used to. He remembered the disgust and the trembling fear and the horror of what he did when he saw his first kill on the floor, looking like a sack of vegetables falling down. He remembered the splatter of blood. He remembered his heart beating, thudding against his chest.

Ba dum.

Ba dum.

Ba dum.

But now, his hands pull the trigger with ease.

It's just routine.

Jonathan and Asher wore a black attire, covering their face and body, except for their eyes. They didn't look like robbers of course. Black jeans, black jacket, black mask. Quite fashionable, they'd claim.

"How much time do we have left?" Asher asked Jonathan, quickly unpacking his gear, cleaning the mess on the floor. They didn't have much time to dispose of the body and get information about the next cartel.

"About five minutes."

"Hey, we have extra time for once!" Asher chuckled.

You just killed someone.

No big deal.

Asher patiently took the bodies and dissected them calmly, yet quickly. His cuts were clean, and his cleaning was thorough. His clothes weren't stained with blood.

The building was a run down area, somewhere in the slums. There were many oil cans stacked up in the corner, along with dusty run down cars parked at the side, abandoned. The entire building reeked of filth.

The only clean room, however, was the head's room. Fully clean. It had air conditioning, and large mounts of food supply. The room was equipped with computers and a comfortable chair, which was quite an unexpected thing to find in a run down building.

"Hey Asher," Jonathan looked at him, pointing towards the large stash of food that lay beside the computers. "Should we take them?"

Asher shrugged. The food wasn't his, but the entire reason he forced himself to play these games was to just eat and have shelter. He needed clothes behind his back.

He had committed so many sins.

It's okay if he committed just a few more.

"Sure," Asher said, "Keep some for us. Let's take the others to Lilah's house."