Life of a Little Killer : Prologue
#1 of Life of a Little Killer
Um... This is my first story ever posted so I like constructive criticism. Just so you know, just because its on a website and posted dont mean everything in it have to be real. By the way this story will take a turn into M/M road, sorry to disappoint you if you get offended about this. And just in case but I doubt I need to right now.
Disclaimer: I never knew what this was for... but here goes everything some other storys have in disclaimers. _________________________________________________________________________________________
Prologue
In my assassin years I always go after my target, there will be no questions, no hesitation, and no remorse. It doesn't really matter to me, it can me a infant to a helpless old man, it doesn't really matter to me. But for some reason every time I kill I always look at myself in the mirror when I go home, I look at myself dirtied, covered in the blood of my target. My once orange outer fur now covered in dried blood, my inner belly fur is no better then the outer. I looked at my form in the mirror, I am a husky with only a stature of 5'5, I look at my blue eyes, the windows to my soul. My blade by the side of my thigh held tight onto it by a piece of cloth, the blade was a gift from my master, he who taught me how to live. But sometimes I wonder if I am really living. "Do I only live for the purpose of killing?" I ask my twin in the mirror, he just stared at me without a answer.
I sat on my bed, the only light coming from my lap top. As I start to take my clothes off my phone rang, I walked over to pick it up, The voice I heard as I put the phone on my ear is my clients. My hand ready on the button on my left side, incase he plans to not pay me. I always do this to my clients, I learned the hard way that as long as a person is living that person is capable of many things, like ripping off his employee.
"Your pay is in your account" said the shady voice.
I sighed in relief as I loosened up my muscles, I looked over to my laptop and saw the amount we agreed upon show up on my balance. People like me who work in illegal professions have a system like the bank, which helps us transfer money secretly without the knowledge of the government. The dark side as we like to call it, is more complicated then it seems, with many systems, and groups. I moved my hand away from the button, glad that I don't have to detonate the C-14 bombs I hid in my clients house. It would be messy and it gives lots of attention, anyways last thing I wanted is to alert people of terrorist.
As I laid on my bed I received a email from the dark side network. It reads:
Dear Chester ReinHart,
We been observing you and we are offering a job. This task requires you to travel to America and protect a target for a year after your arrival to your destination, after a year you will be needed to assassinate the target. We will reward you greatly for the task, and will offer ten million U.S. dollars for the task to be finished. We will pay for the traveling expense, food, shelter , and school expenses. There will be other assassins after the target incase you fail your task. We hope that you accept this task for this is of the up most importance to the dark side. Click on the picture below to enter the contract.
(Image of a skull)
From,
D.M.A.
As I sat there looking at the mail, my eyes focused on the amount I get paid. After reviewing the information I did a background check on D.M.A. on the D.S.N. which stands for the dark side network. It seems like D.M.A is actually called Dark Matter Association its a large group that involves itself with many illegal trades, the organization is filthy rich so it can bring out 10 million with no problem. What confuses me is that how in the world do they know about my name, and what do they mean they have been observing me. Are they the cause for the feeling of being watched? And why school?
I shake my head to get rid of these questions, its not like me to question my client. This task seems interesting enough, and the pay is large, even by my standards. This will last me a whole life time, as my master says: "The only reason to kill is to gain something".
I clicked.
I started to pack my things since it says I have to stay for a year. "But why a year?" I think in my head, I immediately shook my head again clearing the thought. As I started to finish packing I started to move toward the door, I pressed a button on the ceiling and it started to blink red. I walked calmly out of the hotel and called for a taxi to the International Airport of Paris, As the taxi started to move a explosion occurred in the room I was in. I made sure to pack a extra dose of C-14 liquefied isoatom, to put simply a liquefied bomb enough to turn anything into ooze. I am sure that it will erase all evidence that I was there. I only smirked as the driver make way to the airport, I guess this will be the time I will go to middle school, the place I should have gone instead of becoming a hired killer. Hey, I am 13, I am in my rebellious stage, I cant help it. Right?
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Now I want comments so I could learn and learning is fun... I think