Short Stories

Prompt #22

"Is that blood?"

"No?"

"That's not a question you're supposed to answer with another question."

Max had wandered into the kitchen with red stained fingers and a splatter of the same substance on his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand as he grinned at his friend. "Yeah, how was I supposed to reply? I didn't know."

"Just no would've been fine. Seriously, is that actually blood?"

"Uh..."

"Max..."

"Okay, yes it is, I lied, but no was so much better than: yes I just murdered a man."

"MAX!"

"What?"

"You just killed a man!"

"And?"

Max was busy washing his hands of the blood again and again whilst Keo locked all the entrances to the house. Keo had never approved of his roommate being a hit-man, but he paid the rent and was actually quite good company when he wasn't killing people. Keo had tried to make some ground rules, no bodies or blood in the house, his business was to stay as far away as possible, but Max had never listened and had always stretched the rules from the start.

Keo came back from locking the upstairs windows and found Max bleaching the smell of blood from the sink. Using a clean cloth he mopped up the mess and started a pile near the back door. His shirt and clothes then joined it. Max calmly put it all in a bag, cleaning any handlles he had touched on the way, before dumping it in a metal bin by the back door. As casually as a person throwing away rubbish, Max lit a match and set the materials alight. Evidence always got burned. Another one of Keo's rules. One that Max would happily stick to.

"Get some clothes on Max," Keo complained as the almost naked man crashed on the sofa opposite him.

"We're both guys, I don't see what the issue is here."

"The issue is my sister is coming over soon and I don't want her seeing you like that," Keo argued.

Max smirked, "you're just worried she's going to have a thing for me."

"Just get some clothes on," Keo retorted, not disagreeing with Max.

Max laughed and picked himself up off the sofa, heading upstairs to find something suitable to wear. He hadn't wanted to get to know Keo, the job meant keeping relationships was hard and very, very dangerous. Max had wanted both rooms, the apartment to himself, but Keo had got here first and he had to adjust to the living arrangements. It was always strange seeing Keo's life around his, seeing his normal life of an everyday citizen and how hugely it contrasted with his own despicable lifestyle. The way they interacted made him feel a little less part of his world and more of Keo's. He felt more like a member of society when he spoke to Keo, like he had always been a part of it.

Max got ready, checking the weapons he kept hidden between his clothes before changing into a t-shirt and some joggers. He wasn't leaving the house again today. He probably couldn't. The person he had murdered was a big target, so big his name was plastered on billboard advertisements and on the tops of some of the biggest buildings in the city. He could live with the confinement though, the job had paid well. Almost well enough to quit the business entirely. Almost.

"Better Keo?" He asked, reclaiming his place on the sofa.

"Yes, thank you."

"You're very welcome. So what's your sister called?"