Killer for Hire

I’m a contract killer. My lifestyle is different from others. I work at night. I have very sensitive hearing and eyesight, especially in the dark. My reflexes are the best in the business. I’m very fast, my muscles are strong and my grip is deadly. My specialty is not leaving any evidence. I don’t relax until my victim or victims are dead.

My contact takes care of everything for me. I’m driven to the site to do my job. I wait as preparations are done for me. I scope the area, looking for ways the victim or victims could possibly escape. I make a mental note of how to handle situations that could be embarrassing.

I verify arrangements for food, drink and the necessary place has been taken care of. My equipment is a gun metal chair with a soft cushion. It is placed by a window where a street light cast a beam of light across the floor or by a door with a back light casting the beam.

Everyone departs. I’m alone waiting on darkness, setting on my comfortable cushion, sometimes for hours, sometimes more than one night. I’m patient and have been known to fall asleep on the job.

I’m always in the shadows and the lighted area is what I consider the dead zone. My victim sets foot into the zone. I jump, race toward the victim. I have the victim in a death grasp before he reaches the outer edge of the beam.

Tonight is different, it has been very busy and none have escaped. I have laid out each of the dead in the light beam as the morning sun warms the area and the bodies.

I hear the key turn in the lock, in walks my contact and the contractor. I hear much pleasure as they count seven dead. I fall to sleep as I hear the rewarding exclamation, “Picatso, the best dang cat I know”.