The representative was a gangly boy, barely finished puberty. So stick-like that I imagined he could easily be blown away. He wore a black choker, which hung limp around his tiny neck, and obsidian boots that seemed sizes too big for him.

The boy was clearly trying to seem tough, as if he belonged here, but it couldn’t be anymore obvious he didn’t.  He’d tried to draw a tattoo on with black marker, however it was too poorly done to be mistaken as anything a well respecting artist would be caught dead sketching. He was shaking, and desperately trying to wipe the sweat off his hands. If it wasn’t for the deafening waves, I’m sure his breathing would have been heavy and frantic. I felt a little sorry for him; he had no idea what was coming. 

It was honestly a bit insulting, that they’d send me someone who was practically a child. Since when was I the one who got dumped with washouts? After all, they had to have known what they were doing by sending him here. He reeked of innocence, and I already knew that the wolves were closing in. It was too late for him, no matter what he was planning.

I could feel the anticipation buzzing around me. Fresh meat, they murmured, a sea of grasping hands desperate to sink their teeth in. Although I could only see one or two people, I knew they were all carefully stationed around the warehouse. They were poised to strike, but all waiting, waiting for my approval.

I glanced down at my Rolex; it was 12:59, a minute till the scheduled time. I gave the man standing closest to him a small nod, letting him know we were ready. They exchanged a few quick words before starting forward. 

He was hiding a small pistol in his right boot; I could see it in his walk. I sighed. When would they ever learn? Was it so much to ask for one person with a functional brain? You don’t bring guns to a trade. Unless you were fully planning to shoot everyone down, all it did was cause issues. What did he think he could do? Even if he got one good shot out, which I doubted he would, he’d be dead within seconds. Besides, it was just plain rude. He was basically asking for a shootout.

I watched as they made their way into the warehouse, before entering myself a few seconds later. It was a relief to get out of the cold ocean wind that had been whipping my face for the past half-hour. It was one thing that always annoyed me about this location, but it was worth it to suffocate the screams & sounds of gunshots.

My platinum hair stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness, so I always wore a black hoodie on nights like these. I’d thought about dyeing it a few times, but decided against it, for I loved the way it framed my features and the glow it gave my face. It was the one part of me I kept from my childhood, most of which I’d done everything to erase.

At first glance there were only the three of us, but I knew there were people stationed all around, crouching behind boxes and watching us from ledges. The only thing that gave away their position was the shiny black metal that I knew was the muzzle of a rifle. It was almost impossible to spot with an untrained eye, but my years of experience didn’t go to waste. These were all my personnel, and the lack of the opposing was somewhat worrying. This indicated that they either were using the boy as a one time messenger, or they had something else planned. If it all went well, we’d walk out without a single bullet fired, but it was just cautionary, a way to make sure everything went as it was meant to.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The lighting was slightly better here, a single fluorescent lamp dangling from the ceiling, so I could see that the boy's face was clammy, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Oh no, I could already tell this wasn’t going to be a good answer. How disappointing. There really was potential for a beautiful alliance, but actions had their consequences. Tonight had certainly been deflating. So be it. My streak of good luck had to come to an end sometime or another.

“Sadie Martinez. Nice to meet you.” I pulled my hoodie off, getting the desired effect perfectly.

“Sadie Martinez?” he repeated voice shaking. It took all my effort not to laugh. He looked like he wanted to throw up. He really was having a terrible time of it. I decided that I liked him. His reactions were priceless.

“Yes, and you?” I casually responded. It’s easier to bargain when the opponent’s thrown off; makes them more susceptible to filthy deals. It’s why working with experienced criminals just isn’t the same. They don’t fall for the same tricks newbies do.

“Tyler Dale, ma’am,” he murmured, so quiet it barely reached my ears.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” I gushed. “No need to call me ma’am. I’m not at that age yet!” He looked positively sick now, his face changing to a ghostly white.

“O-of course not. I’m so sorry. Never again!” I smirked at his ramblings; this was going to be fun. I let myself have a minute of rest before turning my cheerful facade back on.

“So, Tyler, what do you have for me?”

It looked like all the blood had drained from his face now, which cemented the fact that their answer was not optimal.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot accept your proposal,” he said, voice wavering as if even he knew what a terrible decision this was. My smile got impossibly wider, as I deliberately enunciated every syllable, voice dripping with venom.

“Well, Tyler, that just doesn’t work for me,” I took a step forward, my 6-inch stilettos making me more than a head taller than the boy. I could see Tyler visibly shrink back, terrified. Satisfaction rushed through my veins. I’d bring them hell for rejecting me. Crossing me was the worst thing they’d ever do. Starting with Tyler.

I barely listened as he begged and pleaded. God, why wouldn’t he shut up? No one likes a suck up. Certainly not me. Eventually his ramblings trailed off, when he realized I wasn’t replying. I stayed quiet, a maniacal grin on my face. I bet he was wishing to be anywhere but here. As every second passed, I could see a bit of hope drain from his eyes. His mind was racing a million miles an hour as he frantically debated what to do. I could feel the conflict practically radiating off him; whether to reach for the pistol or try to make a run for it. How pathetic. He should know by now that he was never meant to live. All he was was a token, a pawn in a larger scheme. Nobody would even know he was gone. His corpse would be engulfed by the sea’s cold embrace, his consciousness along with it. No one would remember Tyler Dale. A soul silenced, as I’d done to so many before. He wasn’t special, wasn’t important.

My contemplation was broken as Tyler finally moved. It was a quick action, but I was quicker. My hand reached for the holster around my waist and I pulled the trigger. One. Two. Three. It took less than a second, but I witnessed everything in painfully slow motion. One in the neck and two in the head. What was once a lively young boy had been degraded to a mass of bloodied flesh.

“Dispose of it,” I commanded, ears ringing from the gunshots. I waved my hand at his corpse, people rushing in from all sides to do my dirty work. There it was. That rush of pure adrenaline. My night was finally right.