The Warm Smile of Death

Dust fills the air.

You breathe it in. This is your home, your playground. No one beats you here. No one ever beats you.

You are numb to the warmth of the setting sun, which glows a violent red through the hazy sky. You are oblivious to the city below, whose dreary streets are forever filled with plebians trying to survive in this concrete wasteland. This is no concern for you. You feel nothing. You sacrificed your humanity on the day of your first kill. Since that day, hundreds have fallen by your hand: three hundred and twenty-seven to be exact. You are so much more than the city’s most celebrated assassin for hire. You are a ruthless, efficient, emotionless killer. A killer who has never failed.

You stand at the highest point in the city of Lucknow, surrounded by grey. Broken windows and rusted barbed wire sing tribute to the fact that this was recently a frantic pit of depravity and despair.

With robotic efficiency, you complete your final inventory check before unsheathing your mechanical grappling hook and swing through an open factory window.

A lone figure sits behind a makeshift desk cobbled together from scrap wood.

POSSIBLE TARGET LOCKED

AGE: 56

SEX: MALE

APPEARANCE: PALE SKIN. BROWN HAIR WITH STREAKS OF GREY. BLUE EYES. ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-ONE CENTIMETRES TALL. ABOVE AVERAGE WEIGHT

DESCRIPTION MATCH

TARGET CONFIRMED

THREAT LEVEL: VERY LOW

“Honestly, I expected you sooner. I know how swiftly Eccleston likes to dispose of those who cross him.”

You cock your gun.

“Well, I can’t say I have any regrets. Give my regards to the mayor.”

For the first time ever, your mark accepts his fate and smiles. He smiles? No pleading? No fighting? Pausing only briefly, you fire.

MISSION COMPLETE

Sentimentality is for other people, but you have built a reputation for keeping a souvenir from each of your missions. Inspecting the victim’s body, you uncover a curious heart-shaped locket hanging around his neck. You rip it from the dead man and thrust the memento into your pocket to add to your collection.

“Three hundred and twenty-eight.”

* * *

“Mayor Eccleston will see you now”

You enter the only lavish workspace in the entire city of Lucknow.

AGE: 62

SEX: MALE

APPEARANCE: DARK SKIN. BALD. BROWN EYES. ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHT CENTIMETRES TALL. PHYSICALLY FIT.

DESCRIPTION MATCH

NAME: MAYOR ANDRE ECCLESTON

“Ah, my friend! It is so good to see you! I trust you come with good news?”

“The target has been eliminated.”

“This is most excellent! You have done well once again my friend; I know that I can always rely on you.” Eccleston’s charm always comes with another agenda attached, but today your analytic mind perceives an increase in flattery.

“What’s next?”

“Straight to business? But of course! I have come to expect this of you. When I arrived in this city fifteen years ago, I was the only man who saw it for what it was! What looked like a swamp of filth and despair could become this!” He gestured to the window, towards a downtrodden, albeit functioning, city.

Eccleston continued. “The world is not what it once was, my friend. This world exists for those of us who make things happen. I am not ashamed to say I see myself as a saviour. Without me, Lucknow wouldn’t exist. Those people out there would be homeless, their children starving.

“There is just one simple rule for people living in my city. Don’t get in my way.” He spat the last words with a scowl before smiling once again.

Another smile? Has the mayor ever smiled before? Has anyone ever smiled before?

“My other assassin, Veronique,” he paused. “She is your friend, I believe?”

You stare blankly.

“She got in my way. Kill her.”

* * *

As you journey home, you absent-mindedly play with your newly acquired locket. What always seemed like a broken city suddenly had life. While the streets were grey with concrete and brown with dust, they only highlighted the vibrant green grass breaking through the concrete. For every angry driver, there were sounds of children and laughter.

Your body begins to shake. You abandon the necklace back into your pocket and run home, desperately trying to escape the overwhelming questions that chase you: Why do you feel like this? Why was this target different? Why have you never seen a smile before and now suddenly they are everywhere? Why do you have to answer these questions when your whole life was spent acting rather than thinking? Why are you gaining a conscience? Why? Why? Wh….

You slam the door to your luxury apartment shut, your breathing shallow and quick. Your body is shaking so violently that you are barely able to withdraw the locket. You fumble, but place it where it belongs. Your vault is secure, its contents hidden from sight. There it won’t be able to haunt you.

Veronique is the closest thing you have to a friend. You are ferocious rivals, but when there is no killing to be done, she seems to understand you. Well, how much can someone understand a human who doesn’t have a heart? Regardless, Veronique is not a job you would have accepted from anyone other than the Mayor himself. She is good. Not as good as you, but still good. You need to be prepared.

Grappling hook, guns, knife. Control.

You walk outside

Dust fills the air.

You breathe it in. This is your home. This is your city. You have a job to do.

* * *

“Has anyone ever smiled when you killed them?”

“What are you asking?”

“Veronique, what are we?”

“We are killers.”

“I know that, but what else?”

“How unlike you to ask this. We’re pawns. Very rich, and very dangerous, pawns”

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.”

“I suppose you’re going to follow through with this?”

“It’s my job.”

“I see. I know your reputation but I don’t want to die.”

You are the first to your feet. You strike Veronique’s wrist with your flick-knife as she scrambles for her gun. She flies towards you, bloodied hand first. You fall, but years of experience allow you to roll and you’re on your feet within a second. You lunge again, but grasp only clothing, hearing the familiar rip as the material tears and you stumble. You lose balance and fall again. You are pounded on either side of the head. Your ears are ringing. Your vision distorts. You reach out and pull Veronique over as you crash into the ground. Now on top of her, you pound her once in the stomach before reaching for your gun and shooting her in the leg.

The wound isn’t fatal, but with her gun now out of reach, Veronique cannot touch you. She looks at you, pain on her face, and smiles.

“Stop. It won’t work.”

TARGET LOCKED

AGE: 35

SEX: FEMALE

APPEARANCE: SLIGHT, ATHLETIC FRAME. BLACK HAI…

“I know you aren’t the sentimental type, but I’m happy to have known you”

Your thoughts freeze.

“You always said you were the best. Now we know for sure.”

“I said stop!”

You scream. Your emotion is so raw that you feel its harshness in your throat. Suddenly the weight of all the lives you’ve taken crashes upon you.

You openly weep.

“Three… hundred… and… twenty… eight. What have I done?”

Sympathy spreads across Veronique’s face in the form of a faint smile.

Unsure as to whether you should point the gun at Veronique or yourself, you raise your weapon.

“Just one more,” you smile.

“Goodbye.”