Tales of the Masqueradier: The Aassassin

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
An assassin works to take down a snooping detective, but strange forces get involved.

Submitted: September 30, 2015

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Submitted: September 30, 2015

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The Aassassin
By Marcus Antonio Samuel Kain
As she walked down the cold back alley, her hood up to conceal her features, Beth looked warily from face to face. There were hobos, beggars, gang members and scum of all kinds. Luckily, she saw the guy she was looking for-Pretty hard to miss. The description had been right; he was a creep. He contrasted completely with the dirty alley. He wore a fancy black dress jacket, and gold tinted shirt with a red collar. He also wore a small silver pin in the shape of a wolf. However, the weirdest and most distinct thing about the man was his face, or, the lack of it; he wore a large, golden fox mask. 
“Hey,” Beth said, apprehensive. She’d been recommended to him by a mutual friend. Well, more a connection than a friend. “You got it?” 
“Yes,” He cooed eerily. He slipped her a small bag of tablets. She handed him a bit of money. “Thank you, Beth,” the man whispered, before slipping away. Beth hurried out of the dirty alley and hailed a cab as fast as possible; it was getting late, and this wasn’t a place to linger. Luckily, a driver saw her and pulled over. She quickly climbed in. 
A grubby, frog-like man sat behind the cab’s wheel. His head was bald and his eyes were drooping. “Where you want to go?” The drive asked. 
“164, Jasper way.” 
“Got it.” He drove off towards her address. 
It was only about a fifteen minute drive. “Here you are,” the old man said. “That’ll be-” his sentence was cut short by a bullet shot through the back of his seat. Silenced. Sadly she couldn’t let anyone know where she’d been. The fox-masked man himself would be dead soon as well- she’d worn a ring with a small thorn on it, coated in poison. When she’d taken the package she’d made sure to cut his finger. Probably within the hour he’d be quite dead. 
Beth made her way to her apartment. It was a dingy little place, with nothing but a meager kitchen, a bathroom the size of a closet and a bedroom that wasn’t much larger. She pulled out her kit from a tiny kitchen cupboard and brought it over to the table somehow wedged into the “Living Room,” which was really just an empty space adjacent to the kitchen. Beth opened the kit and pulled out the bag she’d gotten from the fox. From the kit she pulled her supplies-A bunsen burner, an erlenmeyer flask, a mortar and pestle, and a few vials of various chemicals. She put the tablet’s she’d received from the Fox man in the mortar and ground them to dust. Then, she carefully poured that into the flask. She carefully measured out the other chemicals until eventually she was left with an aquamarine mix. Compared to this stuff, the poison for her ring had been nothing. A drop of this could kill an elephant dead in his tracks without leaving a trace. Even arsenic could be detected through the hair; this was practically invisible. She normally wouldn’t use such a potent poison as it was rare, hard to make and definitely significant overkill, but her orders had been to be as thorough as possible. 
Her target was some snooping private eye, William Peppers. He had been getting close to finding out a bit too much, so the Jackals had told her to take him down. She wasn’t a member of their piece of shit gang, she worked for money. In fact, when they came to her, she nearly blew them off immediately. But somehow the pieces of shit had got the money together to afford her. So, she’d been living in this shitty apartment for the past three weeks. She’d set up a meeting with the detective, claiming to know a good bit about the Jackals. She’s hoped he might want to come over, but he was paranoid. He invited her to his office instead. She thought about bringing him a poisoned coffee, but that wouldn’t work; he’d never trust someone he’d just met. She’d have to trick him in some way. 
Beth carefully corked and hid the condemning flask, put the kit away, and went to her moldy bed. She couldn’t wait til she killed the bastard and could move back to her home again. 

The alarm screamed in the too-bright morning sun. Beth ended the infernal squeaking with a heavy fist and lolled out of bed. She got herself ready, put on her business clothes, slid a tiny poison filled pipette in her hidden sleeve pocket, and hurried to meet Detective Peppers. 
The cab where she’d stabbed the driver was still there, surrounded now by police tape. She made sure to avoid the area, and hailed a cab a few feet from that gruesome area. A cab showed up, and the man-a tall fellow with short, blueish grey hair-agreed to give her a lift. As she sat in the backseat, she wondered what she would do. She would prefer to give him poisoned food, of course, as that would be the best choice; but she didn’t know how she’d do that. 
She stepped out in front of the detective's office. A small black square shoved in among the buildings. The shades were drawn tightly shut. Peppers-Private Eye was emblazoned in gold over a large eye on the shining black door. Beth knocked. “It’s open,” came the gruff reply. 
Beth pushed open the door to find Peppers sitting in a large leather chair behind a black desk. The papers had caught his likeness well-Balding, grimy brown hair, short, fat. Beady black eyes. Apparently he’d caught plenty of scum in his time. Takes one to know one. 
“So, you Beth?” His breath smelled strongly of mint.
“Yes.” 
“Well then, tell me what you know.” 
“What do I get in return?”
“You get a boot in the ass until your info actually goes somewhere.” 
“And what if my info works out, and you get what you want?”
The man growled a little. “Fine. $300, no more. AFTER I get results. Now. Can we get to business?”
If he’d offered more than the Jackals, she’d have betrayed them in an instant. But he hadn’t, not even close. They were offering 5 grand. “They’re having a meeting at the dock in three days.” 
“Where at the dock? What time?” 
“I’ll meet you here on the day, early enough. Then I’ll take you. I want to be there to get someone.” 
“Who?”
“My piece of shit brother.” 
“Hm…” Peppers pulled out a small tin from his coat poecket. He opened it and, judging from the look and smell, it was filled with mintleaves. He popped one in his mouth and started chewing it ponderously. “What are you gonna do?”
“After you get your info and leave, I’m gonna shoot my brother. Easy.” 
“You’ve done this before?”
“Everyone has secrets.” 
The Peppers flashed a wolfish smile. “Fine. I’ll do it your way. Anything else?” 
“Not yet.” 
“Fine. Here’s my card. Can I get your number so I can contact you?” 
“Sure.” She slipped him a card and took the one he offered her. “Goodluck, detective.” 
Beth rose and left the room.  

The three days passed by slowly. Beth paced her little apartment, pondering her options. She didn’t have a plan of attack yet. Of course, the meeting at the dock was a hoax; the Jackals would be having a spoof meeting, and she didn’t have a brother. It was just a way to legitimize her information. 
Finally, the day arrived. She showed up at the office at 6:00 PM. Peppers followed her, wary and wordless. They got into his car, and headed for the port. 
“Left here,” Beth directed. They headed down toward the designated place. “Stop here. They’re just ahead.” 
They got out of the car, and slowly approached the meeting. It was nothing but a couple of thugs sitting around a tiny storage building, spewing out false information at eachother. The Detective listend intently at the window, scribbling in a notebook. After an hour or so, the men ran out of fake things to talk about, and just started playng poker. 
“I got what I came for,” the detective stated. “You can get back on your own?” 
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 
The detective left her there. She waited another ten minute before opening the door. “Finally,” one of the guys said. “I thought we’d be here al night. He buy it?” 
“It worked fine, I think. So, who’s driving me home?” 
When she got back to her appartment, the feeling of success she had felt from the plan working n she got home, Beth’s sense of accomplishment from tricking Peppers dried up. She still didn’t know what to do about getting rid of him. She decided to sleep on it, if she could get any sleep on the old lumpy bed. 
She called the detective in the morning. “Listen,” she said, trying to act convincing, “I know they don’t seem like to major a threat, but the Jackals are fierce. My brother wasn’t at that meeting yesterday, and I’m getting desperate to take him out. I think he’s gonna skip town soon.” 
“Alright, meet me at the office.” 
“No. Meet me at the cafe at Main and Klyne in an hour. We can’t keep meeting in the same place.” 
“You’re paranoid,” the detective urged, irritated. 
“I’ve dealt with these bastards before. Meet me in an hour.” 
“Fine,” the bastard muttered, before hanging up. As fast as she could Beth got ready and ran to the cafe, only a block from her apartment. She wanted to be ready. 
She sat down at a table outside. There was little to do but wait. Waiters approached her twice, and she turned them away each time. The third time one approached, she snapped her head around to scream at him but found she couldn’t speak. 
It was the same guy. The man in the golden fox mask who’d given her the final ingredient for the poison. He placed a small bowl of sugar in front of her, bowed, and left as fast as he’d appeared. Beth stared after the should-be-dead man. Either way, she had a way to poison the detective. Hopefully if she finished this job, the damn fox man would leave her alone. At least he seemed to want to help her. 
She poured the poison she’d brought with her over the sugar. The way it worked, it dried immediately, but would linger in that sugar forever. Soon after this startling exchange, Peppers showed up, ruddy and blustering. 
“Now, tell me, what the hell did you bring me here for?” 
“They’re watching us. Act calm and collected.” She waved over a waiet, keeping her face expressionless. “Two coffees, please.” 
The detective, his face suddenly unreadable, sat down nonchalantly. “Where are they watching us from?” He asked. 
Beth darted her eyes at the third story window where, indeed, she had told a Jackal to stand watching them intently. The waiter brought their coffees. Beth poured some cream into her own, and offered him the little jug. He took it and calmly poured it into his drink, before adding a large teaspoon of sugar as well. 
Beth tried to remain casual, but wanted to force the drink down his throat. She took a sip of her coffee to calm her nerves and hide her nervousness. The detective slowly raised the coffee cup to his mouth. 
It was done. Beth couldn’t help heave a sigh of relief. Almost immediately, the detective's face shone beet red. “Are you alright?” Beth asked, faking concern. The detective just glared judgmentally at her; he knew. Didn’t matter now, though. 
“Waiter!” Cried Beth, channeling her ecstasy from success into fake panic. “CAll 911, something's happening!” The entire place looked shocked. People ran over to check on the Detective, while waiters scrambled for the phone. It was too late now, though. 
In a few minutes, an ambulance showed up and took the Detective away. Beth walked home, and called the hospital to cover her story. She heard what she already knew- “We’re sorry. He suffered a fatal stroke, which caused him to have a heart attack. He didn’t make it.” 
Beth fake cried for a moment, and then hung up, as if she couldn’t handle anymore. Then she burst out laughing; she fucking DID IT! She called up the Jackal leader immediately. 
“Hey, Paul?”
“I heard. Good job, girl. Go to the meeting house, I’ll be there with your money.” 
Beth practically skipped out of the building. However, when she opened the front door, she noticed how late it was. How…? No one was around, not even any cars, and it was the middle of the night. Unhailed, a cab pulled silently up to the curb. 
The windows were purely black. Slowly, she approached the vehicle. The window was lowered, and she nearly ran back into the building when she saw the Golden Fox sitting in the passenger seat, in a cab driven by the same driver she had murdered days before. 
Beth tried to back away, but her legs wouldn’t move. The back door of the cab swung open for her, and sitting there was the Detective, his face still red with death and his eyes still glaring. Without realizing or agreeing to it, she found herself sitting down next to him, behind the Golden Fox. The door slammed shut, and they started down the street. 
The inside of the cab smelled of blood, and was lit by an eerie red light bulb. Blood seeped from the hole in the back of the cab driver’s seat. “Was this your doing?” She asked the Fox. He calmly nodded his head. “Then why help me? Why help me make the poison, and why give me the sugar?” 
The Fox laughed at her. “That’s a good question. If I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be having this fun little ride right now, would we?” She sat back, thinking that she had gotten caught up in the games of some mad god. “God?” The Fox asked, incredulous. “He’s got nothing to do with this. This is all me. Ah! Look out the window, dear.” 
Beth, against her better judgment, looked out the window and saw a single man, with a large bullet hole in his head, just over his right eye. It took her a second to notice him, but then she remembered-He was her last hit. She’d shot him with a revolver, point blank. Some drug baron. He was gone, and then another replaced him. Shootings, stabbings, many, many poisonings…All staring through her eyes, into her. She squirmed and tried to look away, but she couldn’t. 
God, how many? How long had she been doing this? Thoughts of the people she’d just killed to cover tracks or just to be safe came to mind. People who didn’t have to die, even to finish the job. There were… Hundreds. 
“Where are we going?” Beth asked. 
“Where the line ends,” the Fox nonchalantly replied. 
After hours of torture, the reached an high, abrupt wall. The line of victims ended here. The door opened, and as before, she had no control over her body as she exited the car. The fox stepped out of the cab as well, and with a bang, the door closed and the cab disappeared. In it’s place there was a small round table with two small wine glasses of aquamarine fluid and two chairs. 
Beth and the Fox sat down. Both of them reached for the glasses. “Please,” Beth whispered, tears streaming from her eyes. 
“To health,” the Fox declared. They clinked their glasses, and downed the poison. 


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