"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2..." He pulled back the hammer on his gun, ready to decorate the alleyway. He waited for 1... It ne...

The Countdown

allthingsm4tt

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"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2..."

He pulled back the hammer on his gun, ready to decorate the alleyway. He waited for 1...

It never showed up.

He kept the gun held on his mark and checked his watch. The hands were still. He shook his wrist, "Cheap Taiwanese crap." 

He pressed the trigger and nothing. He checked his gun and smacked it a few times. He pointed it back at his mark and pulled the trigger, nothing. 

"Guess I'll have to do this the old fashion way." He returned his gun to his holster and withdrew a blade from his ankle.

He knelt down and prepared to slice the throat of his mark. Something didn't feel right. He had lost count of how many last breaths he had evoked and even the most twisted of men show something in the face of death. He took off the bag that was covering his marks head. 

The man was still. The tears on his face had frozen half way down his cheek. His hair was suspended in a state of disheveled.  

"What the hell?" He pushed the mark, but nothing moved. Not his hair, not his tie, not the expensive red jacket that made him so easy to find, nothing.

The assassin fell back onto his ass. He dropped his blade and shimmied backwards. 

He looked around, half looking for answers, half not sure what else to do. It dawned on him that everywhere was quiet. He stood up and walked out of the alley way, leaving his mark knelt on the floor.

He reached the connecting road and froze. Everything was still, mid motion, as if someone had hit pause on a DVD. Couples about to kiss, children on their parents shoulders, people checking their watches and mouths ajar.

Midnight hadn't come.

He walked between the people. He hoped that it was just some dedicated flash mob that would start moving again. He waved his hands in front of the children, but not even they blinked. 

A loud sound came from above him, and he tilted his head to see it. 

A red light lowered it self to the ground. He stepped back, put his hand on his gun even though he knew it wasn't working. 

The light dimmed and out of the brightness sprouted a young child. Bald, eyeless and wearing an oversized cream shawl.

"Why do you kill?" The voice fit the throat of an old women.

The assassin stumbled to a reply. "Who are you?"

"Why do you kill?" the child said.

"The money's good, the people are bad." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who are you?"

"Your hands will no longer take life. They will give it."

The assassin's hands glowed and became hot. He screamed, "What are you doing?"

He fell to his knees and shook his hands, as you do when they are hot, but it didn't work. "Please, stop, please."

The pain became unbearable. He was ready to black out when it stopped. He felt no after pain, nothing. 

"Go forward, assassin." The child opened its mouth and a red light crawled out and flashed. The assassin lost his eyesight for a moment.

"1, Happy New Year" The joint choruses celebrated. 

The assassin cracked open his eyes and a fat man hugged him. "Happy New Year buddy."

He looked around, unsure of what had happened. Everything was moving again and fireworks burnt through the night sky. 

As his mind came back to him, he remembered his mark. He searched for the entrance to the alley way, pushing anyone in his way. When he recognised it, he rushed for it. He bolted back to the spot but he was gone. 

"Shit."

About Post Author

allthingsm4tt

Writer of things, meme supplier, semi-occasional six string swordist, sporadic cinema goer and smiler.

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