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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1368506-The-Murder
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by Mobo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Prose · Crime/Gangster · #1368506
An assasin known to the 'political world' as 'Black', is at it again in 'The Murder'.
Prologue


Deep into the night, as the wind howled and the hustle and bustle of city life was set to sleep at last. The streets were practically empty. A few hookers being straddled by men, their senses drowned by the large amounts of gin, whiskey and sometimes vodka, struggled in the dark street corners.

A middleaged man stepped out of the shadows and marched briskly towards a dark alleyway. His Jim Cooper clogs did little to hide the incessant clicking against the cold careless cobblestones. He was clad in a political suit with matching black trousers and a rather odd yellow flying tie. It was hard to see at the time but I remember his deep, tired and sunken eyes highlighted by the puffed red circles around them. The only thing that I was interested me about this man was the worn brown valise he clutched with those pale fingers of his, highlighted by the blue knuckles. I later found out that the man was simply referred to as 'Rat!'

Rat ventured into the alleyway. It was dark and cold, it's persistent pungent reek of fish and sewer water did little to deter Rat. He trudged on, earnestly making his way around wet cartons and ruined furniture.

I waited until the valise came into view, thats when I struck, I jabbed the stiletto into his thoat and sent another blow deep inside the gut, fat folds swallowed the blade and half the handle. He groaned, coughed up dark blood then crumbled into the sewage water. I wasted no time in grabbing the valise and speeding off into the night. The attack had lasted a total of exactly ten seconds, including my getaway that is.

By the time I reached my apartment Big Ben had already struck 12:30. I slid in the keys, made my way into the nasty hole I called my home. The blood stained gloves were soon burning in the fire and I was on the phone dialling the number Stefan had given me two days before.

"Hello"

"It's Black, the job is done!"

"When can I come for it?"

"Meet me at The Three Crowns tommorrow, 30 minutes before midnight! You'll get it there after I have confirmation that the cash has been sent to my account."

"Great job, see you tommorow!"

My name is Boris Meneclav and I kill to survive!
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