I am like a snake. Cold blooded, kills innocent, and I slither away like nothing happened. My current contract is a demolitionist, sold someone a faulty bomb blew up before he even got to his car. His family wants this guy dead. I dont ask the questions, I   
kill who I'm told to kill, NO QUESTIONS. They pay top dollar for my services, quite a bit of that money goes to my equipment. I have a suppressed handgun, switchblade, throwing knives, and what ever else I can find on the mission.
His name is Arthur Camblo, he makes his bombs inside of his butcher shop. He has a wife and a little girl, they always do. The worst part of the job is after word I have to disguise myself and tell the family that the person isn't coming home. And some times I have to kill the mother or even the child. I would quit if I could but they won't let me and chances to escape are very slim. What would I do besides this? Am I supposed to work at an ice cream shop remembering all the innocent people I've killed. I'm a natural killer.
     I'm blending in with the with the people on the sidewalk. Wearing a work suit, black fedora
And carrying my briefcase with all of my "tools". I begin to approach Arthur's shop, I don't really think anything about it. I do this all the time. The door provide some resistance as I push through. The cold swish from the room quickly overtakes my body and the smell of humid blood fills my lungs. Quickly I need to analyze the situation. I can't see him but I heard him cough, coming from the back room. No one else is here and I don't see any cameras, this will be easy. I have to think should I go for him or should wait. I have a great opportunity, no witnesses. I ease toward the back room and I hear drop some metal piece. As he bends down to get it I stand at the door hand on my knife, even a suppressed gun is too loud in this area. He tilts his head still crouched. Then he quickly rolls to the side grabs a tiny defence pistol and shoots me in the foot. A burst of pain rises up my leg and hits head like a ram. I collapse on the floor the blood from my wound contributing the the old blood on the floor. He aims at me again except this time it is going to be a fatal shot. I quickly roll to the side, reach for my throwing knife. I look over and toss it, I hear a Shriek of pain and the thump of his body collapsing onto the ground. My knife made it right into the side of his neck.
The dumpster lid snaps shut unexpectedly and whacks my finger. I jump back from shock and trip over, forgetting I just got shot in the foot. I pull myself up using a rusty pipe, running into the neighboring apartment complex. I steady myself and peel of the latex gloved used to proveng tracing of fingerprints. I limp over to the front of the shop preparing to call work to report and get a pickup vehicle.
“Knock, Knock” I knock onto the Camblo’s house and their little girl opens the door. She asks me if I am a friend of her dad and I respond yes. Then I ask to see her mom and she runs into the house leaving the door halfway open. This very attractive blond woman comes to the door. I greet her warmly then I quickly get to the point. I told her that I came into his shop and I found him in the back room bleeding out, from accidentally cutting himself. She gasps and says “Sorry but I need to be alone now, goodbye.” She closes the door and I wave as I get back into my car.
My job is ruining my mental health. Whenever I kill I come to this park because it comforted me ever since I was a kid, and I found out my mom died from progressing lung cancer. Something about this place makes me feel happy and private. All though my life is not private my agency is always watching me to make sure i'm obeying and killing all of my contracts. Now i'm beginning to feel better so I get up and head for my car. As I get up from the bench my phone goes off. Its the agency.
My current contract is my wife. Her ex wants her dead and he is spending a lot of money to make sure that it happens. I run over to the nearest garbage can and vomit. Tears are running down my cheek and my mind is scrambling. I can't run they will see it they have cameras on almost everything I own. I have to go through with this I have no other choice. I can't leave this job it is impossible they won't let me. I can't leave. I'm forced to kill my own wife. I flip through some of our pictures on my phone to soak in the good memories.
I come home and I see my wife in the kitchen making homemade pasta. She runs up to me and says “ I have amazing news… I'm pregnant!” My vision clouds up with black dots and I collapse onto the floor.
I wake up in my bedroom tv on and she comes in and greets me. I tell her I passed out because I was so excited that we were having a baby. She found out today and she didn't want to call because she wanted to tell me in person.
She is in the garage fuddling around with grocery bags when I walk in, gun in my right hand. “Can you help your pregnant wife with the groceries” she laughs.
“I'm sorry” I reply.
I raise the gun aim it at her she screams. Tears are rolling down my eyes. My arm is fully extended, barrel aimed right at her head, my hand is shaking. I pull the gun up and press the barrel against my head. I say “if he is a boy name him Alex, after his daddy.” I pull the trigger and my vision goes dark.
Its been two years since I “died”. I'm now living in Florida under the name Johnny. My gun didn't have a bullet in it, It had the powder and stuff to make it convincing to the agency. I am the owner of our towns ice cream store, and I love it. I can see all these kids leave happy instead of crying because I murdered one of their family members. My family is doing very well my son Alex is healthy and we have another on the way. I love my life. I'm like I caged bird set free.