Another day at work you could say whatever that means to you.

For me, this stopped being work and more like a lifestyle. I am not proud of it and sometimes I think if I could go back in time I would have done better.

If you crawl in the mud enough times, the dirt becomes part of you.

Well, I am not young anymore I am in my 50s and one pack of cigarettes a day for over 30 did not help my condition.

It is almost done. One more layer down and I think it is enough. Well, enough so the animals won’t dig after him I might burn him just to be sure but I don’t care anymore. Two meters under the ground is more than enough.

After finishing the hole I lit a cigar, the last in the pack, and left it to sit on the right side of my mouth. I rolled the poor fella inside the hole and started covering the hole, my back crackling with every shovel of dirt I threw in the ditch. I was puffing like I was one of those old trains, but in a couple of hours, I managed to cover the hole.

As it was close to November and I was in an oak forest I sprinkled leaves all over the place.

Well, who knows even if I am 50 kilometers into the forest the closest road is only five kilometers and one guy might stumble here and perfect squares don’t appear out of nowhere.

Perfect. Now I have to go back 5 kilometers back to the car and drive 50 kilometers to the hotel. Take a quick nap. Eat something from the restaurant over the street in the morning and leave town by lunch.

Well, I’m still in the forest, the moon rays penetrated between the trees and made it easier to navigate.

I got used to walking alone into the forest, in the beginning when I was more or less a helper I was terrified. What if I might run into a pack of wolves or a bear?

Oh year a bear. I stumbled on a bear once. I mean more than on time, but the first time.

It was like today a similar job, kill someone and make sure to hide the body.

I was returning like today and a bear appeared in my tracks. I took my pistol in hand and I was ready to shoot. The bear approached slowly, but I was already running in the opposite direction.

I ran and shoot my gun into the air every so and then until I reached the first road. Well, no bear this night, there was the sound of small creatures stepping on branches, the sound of owls and such.

After walking back to the car which I parked at the dead end of the road and went back to the town, I don’t even remember the name of the town, and why I would’ve even care when you have to travel as often as I am, you start to not care for such details.

Back in town I brought two packs of cigarettes from the gas station and filled the gas tank while I was at it. The clock in the gas station showed 01:21 and I woke up around 05:45. From the gas station and the hotel was less than 5 minutes distance, so I slept around 4 hours. Not bad.

I stood in the room and watched random programs on the TV and smoked half a pack. Around 8 o’clock I went and had a very nutritious meal two eggs, some cabbage salad, rustic potatoes with a bit of butter over them, and a juicy piece of beef steak done medium.

Also one big cup of dark coffee with no sugar. I did not drink the coffee because I liked it, but because if I didn’t get my dose of caffeine I would be probably parked next to a gas station sleeping in the back of my car by noon.

I drove the car back to the rental service in the next big city 100 kilometers from where I was and got my car a small Ford Focus from the 2000s that was parked nearby.

It was the perfect car for me. Small, inconspicuous, and I got used to it. It was the only car I brought with clean money. I had a couple more wherever I had a place to crash for more than a week. None of them were in my name, but they were mine. They were that car on a quiet street, collecting dust for weeks and months at a time, perhaps it was there for more than a year, but then poof it disappeared. You could even see the different taint on the asphalt from covering it for so long

Drove back home for the next 5 hours, I think I should’ve become a truck driver sometimes.

Back home I chugged a couple of beers and did not leave the house for the next week surviving on cigarettes and canned food and some sandwiches I brought from the gas station.

I used to cook my food, but now it lost its charm and the food lost its taste. When standing straight without having to grunt because of the back pain.

Things were easier in my prime days, when were no cameras you had to be careful of bystanders, number plates, and such, but if you came from 1000 kilometers away covered with a ski mask shoot a guy in the back of the head and change a car on the way back and you could see the next day as if nothing happened. Those were easy jobs

When the first cameras appeared their quality was tremendous. The cameras themselves were big and easy to spot.

I did not care that much for them. I wasn’t robbing a gas station or a local pharmacy.

Also, the video was stored locally and so it became routine if I had to break in to get the hard drives. Or the whole server if I had to. Easy to spot in some back room with a big cathode tube monitor, heavy enough to break your back.

With the technological advancements I had to adapt now normal people install them to guard their homes, someone has a dashboard camera 24/7, and everyone has a fairly capable camera in their pocket.

Find blind spots, scout your surroundings, wait for the best moment, and then strike. Well, that is why I think I got less work these days.

As I slumbered, dropped dead on the couch one of the phones from my jacket rang and I answered. The voice of a woman which I got heard all too well.

The phone app was an encrypted app for calls. I remember saying something on the line that I can see what I send, the one that receives it can see it, but if someone in the middle would watch they will see gibberish. He explained it in a more complicated manner but that is what I manage to comprehend.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rothmer.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“We did not hear from you to confirm your assessment.”

“I am sure you know already, so why even bother.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“We know. It is standard procedure to confirm although sir. ”

“And if I don’t what will you do?! Stop giving me more assessments?”

“So the target? Is it confirmed?”

I knew she wouldn’t answer, I never went to do any bureaucratic work, if somebody else had to and they needed me.

“Yes. Done and buried all the instructions said.”

“Understood, Anything out of the ordinary or worth mentioning?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

“I will wire the payment. Until our next briefing.”

“Yeah. Goodbye.”

I was expecting the call and I got used to the routine. Whoever was on the other side of the phone was my debriefer or handler.

I think she was assigned to me around five years ago after my last one died. Natural causes, he was more of a relic than I could say about myself now. With a mellow voice and bad hearing. I worked with the guy for more than 15 years and I got used to having him make my reports.

I felt bad and uncanny to talk with someone else, but this girl did her job well.

Unfortunately, I did not have anything to talk with her even if I tried to she cut me short ignoring me 99 percent of the time.

She would give me the assignments and all the info and send them to my laptop, I would ask her to find me info on some subjects if necessary.

I don’t do much work these days though one or two at a maximum of three a year. Before, I did more than 20 a year, but they started declining with time.

Now, now. I know I owe an explanation.

What am I doing it exactly and for who? Answer: I don’t know exactly.

When young and blatantly stupid it was in one of those one-week love trips when that girl is the one, one true love that is different from any bitch you had a relationship with before just to discover with a broken heart that she was not so special after all.

Now I know, I wasn’t any better. She was a human being, flawed with her own demons in the closet. At the moment you don’t see it that way. You might not see one red flag or two but when a whole ship with red sails approaches you...

Nevertheless. I met one of those while working in my native country when I was working at a construction company working on repairing old blocks all over the country.

I was trying to move away from other shenanigans I caused but never one as big as this one.

I met one of those girls and I was over the moon infatuated with her. I even planned to quit my job and move to the same town as her. I met her for only two weeks.

Well, she was no church’s door and was having a relationship with another guy from the city already.

A man approached me one night while coming back from a bar and going back home.

The man, was madly drunk, enough to even look at me. He wasn’t inside the bar with me and I never met him in my life.

Dressed in a gray suit, a hat loosely standing on the left side of the head. The shirt unbuttoned leaving me to see his sweat underneath oozing. More stumbling than walking.

I realized I was followed pretty quickly. Scraping even so often on building and hugging light poles when one appeared.

I tried to ignore him and build distance between us, but he was determined and shouted.

“Yeh fucker! Wait.”

I decided to stop and turn. Looking at him and not saying anything he closed the gap between us.

“You the fucker!” he said not even looking in my direction even if he tried to.

“Me?”

“Yes- You- Fucker!”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You are the fucker. Maria! What have you done to me.” He started sobbing knees on the concrete pulling down my pants.

I didn’t get where he was going but I knew one thing the name of the girl I lost my mind to the past two weeks was Maria. Looking at him I started to figure two and two.

“Look, let’s calm down and discuss like men.”

But it was to no good.

“She was my life. I know her from-. I know her-.” He started sobbing again.

I decided to put him back on his feet so I took him from under the shoulders and he was reeking of alcohol enough to think he bathe in the stuff.

“Good. Now calm down for a moment Take some fresh air.”

He looked at my body and said.

“You are handsome. You got muscles. That’s why she... She-.” and started sobbing again looking at the wall.

I wasn’t an athlete and didn’t actively exercise, but carrying construction materials every day 6 days a week from 8 to 8 showed on my body and I was only wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts.

And my looks... I never was a lady's man. I never made a girl turn her head my way out of nowhere, and he looked half decent. Low self-esteem, comparison complex, or lack of confidence are enough to break a man.

But he calmed down and started shivering as if he was about to collapse. I tried to stop him from the fall but he didn’t fall but clumsily tried to look inside the jacket and took a kitchen knife and grazed me over the stomach, lightly scratching the shirt not even going through the bloody thing.

I jumped back blindly slashed the air towards my direction and pushed him with one arm into the wall. I wish I didn’t.

As he made contact with the wall he bounced on his back and hit the pavement and did not move. Eyes still open staring at the sky with a scared look.

I did not know what to do and I just ran as fast as I could back home, an apartment I shared with two colleagues. They were both asleep or still in the city I went straight into my room.

I was trying to wake up. I couldn’t believe it. I killed a man, I had no intention to. But there he was. It had to be a nightmare.

I somehow fell asleep and the next day one of my colleagues woke me. Still thinking all was a bad dream.

As the car came to take us to work. I passed by it the crime scene. They already took the body and it was an active investigation. Only the chalk silhouette and I were bonded by the glass window of the car and I realized at that moment it was all true.

That was the last day I was supposed to work at that company as I wanted to say to my boss I wanted to stay behind.

I had to go on a date with that girl, but I didn’t do such a thing all I could think about was his lifeless stare.

I went to work, back home and the next day I hit the next working location, I worked for that company for the whole summer.

I moved to another country, and I got pulled up and taken to the station for drunk driving. I knew something went down badly when they kept me for over a week.

I was drunk? Yes.

I was speeding? Yes

There was no reason to keep me holed up for more than a night but what could I do? I was barely talking the language.

I didn’t complain. I was fed and the officers went and bought me food if I paid for it.

I had a radio as a companion. I was alone in the room.

After a month a policeman came to me and said:

“You have a visitor.”

A visitor? Who might he be?

A man in a river blue shirt and wearing sunglasses was waiting in the interrogation room. I sat down on the chair upon his request.

“Mister Rothmer. Am I correct? ” said the man looking at a sheet of paper.

He threw it on the table and looked at me.

“Good. Good. And you know why you are here?”

“Drunk driving sir.”

“Yes. Right.”

“I have a question, sir.”

”A question?”

“Yes. Why am I in here for close to a month? Nobody wants to tell me why either.”

“Is not because they don’t want to. They don’t know why either.”

“So why am I in here?”

“I asked them to.”

Him commanding the police made me question and realize what was happening and fear chilled me to the marrow.

“I am not only for the drunk driving incident. Am I? Sir.”

“You are smart or at least you got good perception.”

“Are you here to take me back.”

“Well see. Now tell me your version of what happened when Lars died.”

“Lars Molley. That was his name. You don’t even know the name of the man you left with cold blood dead on that road.”

I didn’t try to find more I wanted to forget as much as I could.

“No sir. Until then we never met.”

“I see. Continue.”

I continued to tell the story as best as I could following the details of the night, and in the end, they looked at me after I finished and said.

“Could you do it again?”

“What?”

“Kill a man Damien. Don’t play stupid.”

“I don’t sir. I just don’t understand.”

“I’ll make it quick for you. Two options. I leave this door alone and you get to spend a vacation for at least 20 years. Or... We both leave this door, together, but what I say becomes law in your life for the rest of your days.”

What did I choose? It’s obvious. At that moment I would’ve done anything.

Why me you ask? I was a punk. And I had a bit of wit attached to me.

I played undercover in a couple of gangs and shady groups. It was easy as I played myself only with a different name. And as experience grew thick on me, they saw I had a talent for killing.

I was used only for killings. And if I can to make them look as if they were mistakes. Or made in such a way it reflected the interest of the people I was working for.

I don’t even know for who I work for. Where the money comes from. Who parks the cars I use? And who delivers the guns I ask for?

To answer another question. Of whom the boy I had the whack was. The son of a fairly drug dealer in that region. His son was that brat that would flex his muscles and money left and right but he was inoffensive.

My guess is to stir some sort of conflict in the criminal world, thinking that a rival kidnapped his son or killed him as retribution.

Well, I’ve done worse. Sometimes you had to make the body look like it was the victim of such a man.

Sometimes people fall of the edge the window, and sometimes someone breaks his neck by tumbling down the stairs.