Fiery Ice
And so I was dead. Stiff as a plank, pushing up the daisies, shaking hands with God almighty himself, and trust me when I say this; I did not see it coming. My life is not an extraordinary tale, neither is the way it ended, but as all restless spirits out there, I need to bitch about it.
It was around ten pm and I was sitting around in the rather smoky bar, where I usually found most of my clients, or more accuratly; they found me. In my line of work, it´s not safe to simply ask strangers if I can help them. My choice of career is, or was, a rather shady one. To put it simple: I´m a hitman, I kill people for money. The work is interesting, the salary is unbelievably good and one gets to test his or her own limits, see what one is capable of.
But then, I sat in the bar and waited for someone to approach me with an offer. I´d received several inviting smiles from people but I wasn´t in the mood for those kinds of offers. There are some signs that people interested in my services can use to get my attention, so I can always tell when people are interested or not. A young woman walked up to me and asked me something relatively unimportant. She wore a black, rather low cut dress and a red rose in her brown hair. The flower was the first sign. However, it was her eyes that caught my attention. They were cold, but with a glow of pure passion. An icy fire, burning within her soul. After I´d given her an equally unimportant answer to her question she gave me the second and final sign. “I´d wish for a bottle of red wine to be sent to a specific person.” Her voice was low and deep. I nodded and answered her: “Why don´t you come over to my flat in the morning and we´ll discuss it there.” I handed her a small piece of paper with an address and a time written on it, not where I lived, of course, just a place I used when dealing with the customers. Then she did something I had not anticipated, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. The touch of her lips was soft and her perfume was intoxicating. I left the bar quickly with a bad feeling tormenting my guts.
Two pm sharp the next day, I heard a gentle rapping on my door. “Come on in!” Barely had the words left my lips when the door opened and the woman from last night appeared in the doorway. This day she wore a magnificent grey suit which managed to look both strictly businesslike and extraordinary attractive at the same time. The red rose had remained at it´s place, softly embedded in her long hair. I decided to go straight to business. “Well then, what can I help you with?” At first she looked puzzled, as if she´d not expected me to be so straightforward, but quickly recovered. “I need someone dead.” Plain, simple, I liked it.
“What details can you give me?” “Everything you need, the person is my husband.” She must´ve tought that I looked suprised, because she started explain her reasons for wishing to become widowed. I interrupted her. “I don´t want to know your motives. It´ll be safer for both me and you if I don´t.” She nodded and began to speak again. “If you´ll help me out, I´ll be very grateful.” “Exactly how grateful might that be?” This was what it was all about, the payment. “Well,” she started looking straight into my eyes, for some reason that look made me nervous. “There´ll be money involved, of course, quite a lot of money, actually. And if I´m really pleased, there might just be something else that comes along.” She flashed me a knowing glances. After she´d left, I felt kind of nervous, but of course I accepted the offer. This was the deal of a lifetime.
That evening I gathered my tools, a vary of knives, ropes, lockpicks and my silenced gun. I dressed up all in black as usual and went out into the night. As I made my way to the address she´d given my, I felt rather uneasy. I probably should´ve called the whole thing off, but I was confident in my own ability to handle most things thrown into my path.
As I reached my destination, a tall, luxurious mansion in the outskirts of the town, sealed off from society with a great white wall, I looked for a way in. The gate that lead to the property was guarded and I didn´t feel like killing off the young security guard in front of it, so I sneaked to the backside and to my great fortune, I found ivy growing on the wall. After a brief moment of climbing and a short jump, I was on the lawn. I crawled to the backdoor that my beautiful employer had left open and sneaked inside.
The houses interior was even fancier than the outside. I silently made my way to the stairs and went to the third and highest floor. From there on it was easy to find my way to the bedroom, where the husband was supposed to sleep. I opened the door to the room without a sound and took a quick look inside, it was dark. I went in and shut the door behind me.
Suddenly a lamp was switched on. I cursed, temprarily blinded and after a few seconds when my eyes had gotten used to the light I found myself looking into the eyes of my employer, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. “There has been a slight change of plans,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. I didn´t even feel the knife as it plunged into my back.
It was around ten pm and I was sitting around in the rather smoky bar, where I usually found most of my clients, or more accuratly; they found me. In my line of work, it´s not safe to simply ask strangers if I can help them. My choice of career is, or was, a rather shady one. To put it simple: I´m a hitman, I kill people for money. The work is interesting, the salary is unbelievably good and one gets to test his or her own limits, see what one is capable of.
But then, I sat in the bar and waited for someone to approach me with an offer. I´d received several inviting smiles from people but I wasn´t in the mood for those kinds of offers. There are some signs that people interested in my services can use to get my attention, so I can always tell when people are interested or not. A young woman walked up to me and asked me something relatively unimportant. She wore a black, rather low cut dress and a red rose in her brown hair. The flower was the first sign. However, it was her eyes that caught my attention. They were cold, but with a glow of pure passion. An icy fire, burning within her soul. After I´d given her an equally unimportant answer to her question she gave me the second and final sign. “I´d wish for a bottle of red wine to be sent to a specific person.” Her voice was low and deep. I nodded and answered her: “Why don´t you come over to my flat in the morning and we´ll discuss it there.” I handed her a small piece of paper with an address and a time written on it, not where I lived, of course, just a place I used when dealing with the customers. Then she did something I had not anticipated, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. The touch of her lips was soft and her perfume was intoxicating. I left the bar quickly with a bad feeling tormenting my guts.
Two pm sharp the next day, I heard a gentle rapping on my door. “Come on in!” Barely had the words left my lips when the door opened and the woman from last night appeared in the doorway. This day she wore a magnificent grey suit which managed to look both strictly businesslike and extraordinary attractive at the same time. The red rose had remained at it´s place, softly embedded in her long hair. I decided to go straight to business. “Well then, what can I help you with?” At first she looked puzzled, as if she´d not expected me to be so straightforward, but quickly recovered. “I need someone dead.” Plain, simple, I liked it.
“What details can you give me?” “Everything you need, the person is my husband.” She must´ve tought that I looked suprised, because she started explain her reasons for wishing to become widowed. I interrupted her. “I don´t want to know your motives. It´ll be safer for both me and you if I don´t.” She nodded and began to speak again. “If you´ll help me out, I´ll be very grateful.” “Exactly how grateful might that be?” This was what it was all about, the payment. “Well,” she started looking straight into my eyes, for some reason that look made me nervous. “There´ll be money involved, of course, quite a lot of money, actually. And if I´m really pleased, there might just be something else that comes along.” She flashed me a knowing glances. After she´d left, I felt kind of nervous, but of course I accepted the offer. This was the deal of a lifetime.
That evening I gathered my tools, a vary of knives, ropes, lockpicks and my silenced gun. I dressed up all in black as usual and went out into the night. As I made my way to the address she´d given my, I felt rather uneasy. I probably should´ve called the whole thing off, but I was confident in my own ability to handle most things thrown into my path.
As I reached my destination, a tall, luxurious mansion in the outskirts of the town, sealed off from society with a great white wall, I looked for a way in. The gate that lead to the property was guarded and I didn´t feel like killing off the young security guard in front of it, so I sneaked to the backside and to my great fortune, I found ivy growing on the wall. After a brief moment of climbing and a short jump, I was on the lawn. I crawled to the backdoor that my beautiful employer had left open and sneaked inside.
The houses interior was even fancier than the outside. I silently made my way to the stairs and went to the third and highest floor. From there on it was easy to find my way to the bedroom, where the husband was supposed to sleep. I opened the door to the room without a sound and took a quick look inside, it was dark. I went in and shut the door behind me.
Suddenly a lamp was switched on. I cursed, temprarily blinded and after a few seconds when my eyes had gotten used to the light I found myself looking into the eyes of my employer, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. “There has been a slight change of plans,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. I didn´t even feel the knife as it plunged into my back.
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