the news headline

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

he got what he deserved. stop feeling guilty. he killed my fiance. why am i feeling guilty. the old lady is on to me. guilt, more guilt. they know who i am. what's wrong with me. without her, who am i. found dead. the news headline.

“John Walter found dead.” Today’s news headline. “Mafia boss John Walter was found dead in his apartment. Police rule it a suicide and are investigating further.” Good they didn’t suspect a thing. I guess that’s how it ends after almost twenty years in the mafia. He got what he deserved. But why did I still feel guilty. As if I had killed him for no reason. No, like I said before, he got what he deserved.
I sat there in the coffee shop reading the newspaper, surrounded by civilians who had no clue who I was or what I had done. They had no suspects and had no idea that they were sharing a cafe with a murderer. I thought back to that dreaded night.
“Be glad I did it boy. She was nothing but a distraction that kept you from your real family.” Did he ever shut up. “I did what’s best for all of us, your stupid fiancé died quick, nothing painful.” Why was he telling me this. I was the best assassin for the boss. Did he have a death wish. “Well, I should be hearing a thank you right about now.”
“Thank you?” I said holding back the tiger, it scratched and clawed at my mind.
“Yeah, how many times do I have to say. I did you a favor.” He just kept getting louder and louder. His voice feeding the tiger.
“SHUT UP! Shut up shut up shut up!” The tiger got loose.
With a loud crack, he was out cold. I took the nearest knife and slit his wrists. I cleaned the knife and made sure only his finger prints were on it. I erased any other evidence of my being there, and left. Not looking back, once.
I took another sip of my black coffee and flipped the page of the newspaper. Around me I could hear others discussing the headline. How the city would be a safer place, how they could be free to do what they want without worry. Then one conversation caught my ear.
“The city will never be safe until he’s dead. Sure the boss may be gone but their lead assassin is still out there. We all know he didn’t need someone to tell him to kill. He just wanted money for it. It’s only a matter of time before he’s working for someone else.” I chuckled to myself. They weren’t wrong, killing was my life, after the first few kills you may feel some guilt, but eventually it becomes almost exhilarating. Like and addiction. As long as someone wanted someone dead, and were willing to pay. I’d keep killing.
I left the coffee shop, replaying the events from the night before. Over and over, making sure I hadn’t left anything. I was being ridiculous, I’ve been killing for twenty years, and have yet to be caught. I walked through town when something caught my eye. A pistol, no, not a pistol. That pistol.
I walked in the antique shop and asked the toad like lady behind the counter where she had gotten the pistol in the window.
“It came in last Friday I believe.” Man, she was gross. “It came from an older man with a box of other things.”
“How much?” I needed that pistol.
“Thirty.” It was like listening to a frog talk. 
I handed over a twenty and a ten. I had over five hundred on me at all times. Killing paid well. I went over to take the pistol and went to leave when.
“I know who you are, think of that next time we meet.” The old lady croaked, before I slammed the door of the antique shop. Cracking the glass.
I went home with the pistol to examine it. Yep, this was the pistol. The same pistol that killed my fiancé. The same one he used to kill her. And it was the same pistol I would use for my next kill.
I crept up to an older looking house, sure I had the address right, and picked the lock to the front door. No alarm went off. This was going to be easier than I thought. I walked through the house to see furniture from what seemed to be a hundred years ago. Everything reeked the late 1800’s. I moved on.
I walked down the hallway. First door, no that was an office. Second door, nope, nope, nope. Creepy doll room. Last door, yes her bedroom. I walked over to the bed, BANG. It was done. At least I didn’t have to deal with that old toad anymore. And that was one less person with dirt on me to worry about.
I went back to the antique shop, locked. I pushed on the cracked glass door. It came crashing down in the night. Crap, I need to be quick. I quickly erased any trace of my being there, except for the glass. No fixing that. Cleaned off anything I had touched. No footprint, no receipts, no shattered glass. Nothing except for a door without glass.
“Antique shop owner found dead.” The newest headline. “Police rule it an accident after finding a pistol on the floor and a bullet in her chest. Her shop had also been broken into but police find no evidence of someone being there.” Another job well done.
I was in a different café. Never stay in the same place for too long. Too dangerous. Sipping my coffee, I heard a similar conversation to the one from yesterday.
“It was assassin I bet, he's just that good. Never leaves a trace. We need to put a stop to this madness.” Ha, good luck with that, over five hundred kills. No one suspects a thing. Except for these stupid coffee shop customers.
I walked down the street and saw the antique shop. Police tape surrounded it and there were investigators walking around trying to find any evidence they could follow. I walked away.
Later that night I was napping on one of my recliners in the living room. “Breaking news!” I jolted awake, why was the TV so loud. “Investigators discover journal in recently deceased Dolores's home. Police discover the identity of Mafia Bosses John Walter's lead assassin.” What they couldn’t mean me. My picture showed on the screen. Dang it. “Be on the watch for this man. Police say he is armed and dangerous.” I had to go, but where? Her house.
A knock came to my door. It was my neighbors. Out the window it was. I started to the window when the knocking got louder. “This is the police.” Faster. I went to the roof. The ground was too dangerous. From there I could see over five police cars. This wasn’t good. I went down the ladder in the back alley and slid into the sewer. I heard someone shout. “I heard something over here.” Footsteps went over head. Were the police smart enough to look in a sewer?
After a couple minutes they left. One saying he got away. I was cleared, for now. I knew the sewers like the back of his hand. I had done much killing in there. Hard to find a body if you never go down there. I went to the man hole right outside her house and emerged.
Silence. I walked over to the door. Locked. I took the key in the flower pot nearby. The flower wilted I dug with my finger and found the key. I went inside, locked the door and sighed. Safe at last. 
Police sirens wailed in the distance. I sat down and looked around at the ghostly familiar house. Pictures of my fiancé and her family were hung around the fireplace. I missed her. A voice. I hid behind the couch. Who in the world was in her house.
“If anyone’s there you better come out now, I got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” A female voice came from the hallway. Not just a female voice, her voice. I slowly stood up. She yelped a little but held fire. She flipped on the light.
“Is that you.” A little crack appeared in her voice. “Who else would I be.” Disbelief, she was alive. She ran over and tackled me to the ground. Hugging as if she’d never let go.
CRACK! The door came crashing down. BANG! Gunfire. She went limp on top of me.
“no, no, no, No, No, No, NO!” Not again, she cant die on me again. She was pushed off me, I looked at her lifeless eyes.
“STAND UP AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!” I looked up. There was only one police man, he was shaking. 
I slowly stood up as the cop lowered his gun the grab his cuffs I snapped his neck with one fatal swoop. I pulled out the pistol from before, still locked and loaded. I couldn’t live without her. BANG!
“Lead assassin and his fiancé found dead along with a cop. The fiancé and the cop were deemed murdered and the assassins death has been ruled a suicide.” The news headline.

Submitted: October 16, 2020

© Copyright 2020 rylieprice2654. All rights reserved.

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