Here Lies

Emily Tanner

1978-2008

Loving Wife and Mother

Burried deep in the ground, there was another gravestone, the death completed. Unlike most of my colleagues, I prefer to see the progress I've made and marvel instead of be ashamed by the number. Some count. Very few. I am one of those few. It reminds me of what I am known for. Three hundred and fifty four. That is how many lives have been taken by my hands in my seventeen and a half years of life. She was my latest kill. She pleaded a lot in my chambers. For other assassins, pleading persuades them to further delay the inevitabilty of their assignment's death. That is for the weak and fool hearted. For the few like myself, not assassins but blood thirsty killers more say, it is only a way to make death come quicker. I find it annoying personally. When they plead. It's always for the same thing, life. It only comes in a limited variety of ways. The most popular plea would have to be the "I'll do anything" plea. I've heard it a lot. If it's not that, it's usually the "Have mercy" plea. That one is the most annoying because really, we're assasins. Trained specifically not to "Have mercy". Though our job is always to kill our asignment, it is always our choice on how and when. The smart ones learn how to not piss us off so they are killed quick and painlessly. Emily Tanner was anything but. She wouldn't stop crying. The entire time. The echos sorounded my chambers with her pathetic sorrow. She must have been one of my quickest and slowest kills. Her non stop pleading kept giving me migraines. I only had her for two and a half days before I finally tied her to an anchor and threw her in the Boston harbor. I figured, since she was born in Bosten, she might as well die in Boston. After an hour or so, I went back, rowed out on my speed boat and fished out her body with a fishing net from the dock. I remember, her skin was already bitten and scratched by nibbling fish, a sickly greenish color. The back of her head was bloody. I had inspected it and found that it was a wound made from a large boulder. From the bottom of the harbor, I expected. I'm an expert at identifying wounds since I make them all the time. It was the perfect cover up. Once I got rid of the anchor and rope burns around her ankle, it was perfect for a suicide. That was the cover up story for all my victims. It made me glad that we didn't have detectives in our line of work or we would be the ones taken for fools. Emily's family was devistated, which I figured later was because she was loved. She just pissed off the wrong guy when speaking her mind one too many times. It's always like that for everyone, just pissing off the wrong people, though they all seem to have interesting circumstances. That's the only reason I ever keep anyone alive for very long. To figure out their story. Though, Emily, she just wouldn't stop pushing me. Needless to say, I'm not someone to push. I didn't go to the funeral. I hardly ever do. She was less than interesting to me. All she was, was another gravestone to be finished.

I had another assignment right away. Usually, the assignments go out to whoever's done with the one they were working on previously. Sometimes I get jobs that are specifically for me.The only reason for that is that I'm the boss's pride and joy. He tells me that when he was just a varsity like myself, after killing a man named Markus Phillips, he found me all alone in my room reading. I was only five then. Honestly, I don't remember anything before then. Sensing great potential in me, he brought me back to the academy and raised me up to be the best. He always talked about how many important people he killed for and how many asses he had to kiss before he got to the top. That's where he was now. The top, of everything. Growing up, he taught me everything he knew about killing. No useless weakling things like having a concience and silly things like caring. It was all about a quick and clean kill. Leave behind no traces. That was the most important thing he taught me. The boss was always in his office. Literally always, he never left. He always said that he'd trained himself not to sleep. Sleep was time waisting and for the weak, he always says. Even I haven't acomplished that yet, though I try desperately to. Every night, though after every two and a half days, I can't sistain my wake state any longer and affects my work at times. I entered the boss's office, which few had ever seen. Only myself and his bussiness associates. "Good to see you Charlotte, the Tanner assignment went over well I expect?" The boss said, looking up from his papers to grin at me with light blue eyes. He was fairly younger than what you'd expect, at the ripe age of twenty nine. He was beautiful, god like as were we all. It was required that we all were, along with being fit. They hand picked sure beauties for the job. The boss only got lucky with me, five was too young to tell. His hair was red and neatly cut by his ears, spiky. He always kept his look modern for certain acquired jobs, though he had a real taste for the 90's. "Of course Boss" I said, respect heavy as always in my mind. The only one I ever did respect. "Very good Carlotte. I've got another ready for you. They wanted you to take care of it personally" he said, shuffling some papers. I sat in the recliner in front of his desk as was ruitine as he searched for the file on whomever was to be my next assignment. We have every person in the world in our database. He prints out the files of the assignments that come in and he assigns them to us. He likes to give me the harder ones because he knows I'm the best. All my colleagues know I'm the best. Why wouldn't I be, when I was taught by the boss? He was called that by everyone, even when he wasn't the boss. I was the only one whom he let call him by his real name, Sam, when I was a kid.

"His name is Trent Michaels. Born to James and Mina Michaels. DOB: January 5th, 1991. He lives in North Dakota county and his parents are well known merchants" He paused, handing me a picture with two seemingly happy people smiling in front of a large beige mansion. It looked like it was a typical south type. The woman had curly, Madona type, dark brown hair. She was pregnant and holding her stomach like if she let it go, the thing inside would disappear. The man had his arm around her. He was older, maybe his late thirties. His hair line was receding and his eyes were a warm brown. It was so happy that it was almost sickening. "That's them before Trent's birth. They were way different afterwards. They want him taken care of. I know we don't get a lot of parents verses children assignments but-" I cut Boss off, which only I could get away with. "Don't tell me. You know, I like to figure it out for myself" I said, smirking while leaning back. "Right, just like I taught you. A varsity who knows her assignment can better take care of it" he said with pride he only paid to me. It was something I craved, the only thing I ever yearned for. "We're getting big money for this Charlotte, so it might be a challenge. You up for it?" He asked, already knowing my answer. It was the same as always. "Of course Boss."