I don't think this is the story everyone was expecting me to post. But I got depressed and chucked the other. So I'm starting again, just a totally different story now. Surprise, hope you all enjoy it. Comments and critiques are very welcome!
Matt
- Spoiler:
- If you choose to live the life of a criminal, then a young death is inevitable. Everyday as a professional hit man takes it's toll on your emeotional state, not to mention physical. But if there's one thing that I hate more than killing for money, it's killing for none at all. Sometime's you'll get real lucky and grab a real bargain while the offer is ripe. But in my despicable life...I'm afraid to say, that almost every target of mine has found some way to screw me over. My name is Angus Thorne and this is how I ended up where I am; trapped.
"Angus!" Bertie gasped, leaning over my burnt body, "Can you hear me?"
As I raised my singed eyelids, my best mate's face filled me with reassurance. I was slumped on the ground in an alleyway, hidden from th scene of the crime. My first target, and I'd messed it up big time. He was amn named Jules Green and he'd supposedly been staeling from my contact's bank account. But it was none of the killer's buisness to ask about the job, just to execute it. "Where's Jules?" I groaned.
"Dead," Bertie smiled, "I took care of him...it was your first after all."
As I climbed to my feet, the stench of burning filled my nostrils. My brown blazer had been burnt quite badly, but at least my skin was in tact. I felt for my python, but realised that it was gone, "Damn, I must've lost my gun when the place exploded."
We strolled out into the light of day. Numerous police cars whizzed past at incredile speeds, that would most likely kill anyone who stepped out in front of them. I had been told by the 'technician' to always keep a low profile when near polic activity. In case you can't work it out, the technician doesn't work with computers or anything like that. It was the name of our superior, who I hadn't met before at the time. All I knew was that he was the boss and I'd sworn to obey.
"Are you going to be ok?" Bertie asked, "Those burns on your face could get worse."
Back then I was ignorant of all advice, "Don't worry, I'll be fine, but what the hell am I going to say to the technician?"
As we walked along Bertie muttered, "We'll start witha hello and take it from there..."
Matt