The icy cold water pinched my rosy cheeks as I washed my face in the sink. The rumbling sound of the water calmed my nerves before I do this one little job again. I wiped the mirror in front of me, seeing my strange reflection. It seemed like I have never seen this person before. I was bewitched by my light brown almond eyes and small, pointed nose. The longer I stared at my angularly stark jawlines, the more I realized it was not really me. Was I overreacting? Perhaps imagining things? Oh yes, maybe. It's been like forever since I have observed my face. My wet, black hair fell messily on my shoulder.

Just don't mind the water Jyno, focus!

As I turned the faucet off, I wiped my face with a face towel, hanging on a steel bar where I put my monochromatic dried clothes. I didn't wear anything colorful, just either plain white or black.

"This is it. Time for work!"

As I got dressed in my blue denim jacket and tattered pants, I prepared my weapons using my leather gloves on a brown table, beside my bed inside my small room. My phone rang. I picked it up and answered it. "Yes hello, this is Jyno Custodio."

"Jyno, are you ready? The target's going to leave his house at around 9 pm," said by a man with a hoarse voice. He was Mr. Kim, my longtime mentor. Actually, I have never seen his face before. Every time I went to his hideouts, I just talk to him through a screen, with an avatar of him. I didn't even know his real name. I just called him Mr. Kim and that's fine with me. I didn't care as long as he pays me.

"Yeah, actually I am getting heated with my guns and ammo here, just what you had told me in your specifications."

"I want him dead! D-E-A-D! you hear me, kid?"

"Of course, don't worry, I will cap his ass and finish him off." I chortled. My Caliber 50 Desert Eagle pistols were loaded, and I also have a knife with me, hidden under my jacket just in case an unexpected incident happens. Ready to go!

The cold breeze that blew in a misty January night, made me shiver as I drove my black sedan on this countryside road here in San Bartolome, a town here in the Philippines. I ignited my cigarette in order to keep me warm. The pleasure I felt was like a smoldering ash touching my tongue and my lips.

Forty-five minutes have passed, and I have arrived at the target's place. It was a small house, bungalow type, located beside a river. There were no gates and no lookouts, just a plain house. It was quite far from the residential. Despite this, there were streetlights and some security camera at a non-cemented, muddy road between rice fields about 50 meters away.

I got off my car, threw my cigarette and crashed it with my left foot. Entering the house, I noticed that it was strangely open. It was poorly-lit inside. Well, I could say the only source of light was the rented disco ball lights on the ceiling. I saw drunk people laying on the floor, couples making out on sofa sets, graffitis on the wall, drugs and empty bottles of liquors scattered anywhere. My phone on my pants vibrated. I picked and answered it. Again, it was Mr. Kim ordering me to give me a signal. Hearing those punk music irritated my ears, distracting my concentration. 

I could say that I got used to smelling cigarette smoke, but this house had a diverse kind of awful smell. Well, awful could be an understatement. I couldn't distinguish the smell. Maybe that was a combination of cigarettes, drugs, cheap perfumes, human musk, and other putrid smell. 

Damn! What were even those?

Going back, I updated him with my current location. "I am already here at the party," I said, covering my mouth with my hands.

"Okay, talk to him in a private room and give him the weed," Mr. Kim replied.

"Alright, I'll do it now just like what you've said."

"After you have given the weed, kill him and take the money!"

"Whatever you say." I hung up.

Pacing down the messy house, I looked for the boss of the house. I was so shocked to see the drunk and wasted people looking at me. I thought they were just under the influence of alcohol and drugs, but their bloodshot stares were eerie and disturbing. The red, dilated eyes, the moans, the groans, and sharp stares sent chills to my spine, enough to tell me that I should join them. I was weirdly enticed. I wanted to join them actually due to my extreme curiosity. It was like they were in another dimension of pure bliss, with no problems in life.

As I was reciprocating their hypnotic stares, I was disrupted when I heared a moan—a disgusting moan. It was like the person was gagged, choked, or something. 

Turning around, I saw my target, sitting on the sink, making out with a buff, quarterback college boy standing before him. The target was a fat, scruffy man with dreadlocks on his hair. He wore a pink lose shirt like a 90s rapper, paired with tight leggings and pink rubber shoes. Weird, isn't it? His tall bodyguards in black suit were standing like mannequins near them. 

I coughed, giving him a signal. He gently pushed the boy and went down from the sink. "Are you the one who was sent by Mr. Kim to give me those weeds?" he asked, his voice was kind of high-pitched, contrary to his figure.

"Yes Boss de Leon, I'm Cuagoh, his apprentice."

I know it was cliche, a hired killer like me had an alias like that. Gross. Mr. Kim chose "Cuagoh" for me because like an owl, I worked at night, and I always wore black clothes. We needed to do this to hide our identities.

"Ooh, youthful. I like that!" he winked, scanning me from head to crotch.

Licking the roof of his black lips, he continued, "What are you waiting for? Give me the weeds!" he ordered like he was my boss.

"Chill! Money first. Then maybe we could talk somewhere else... private." I grinned.

"Jayson, the briefcase?" he demanded. One of his bodyguards handed him a black briefcase, where I assumed had the money I asked for.

We entered a room located near the kitchen. Somehow, the room looked normal, brightly lit. Pink wallpapers covered the walls. The floor was made up of shiny tiles. Surprisingly, it was clean, with a big bed in the right corner, wrapped with a pink floral bedsheet. Beside the bed, there was a small table with a flower vase and boxes of condoms on top. There was also a separate comfort room on the left corner. Unlike the living room and the kitchen, the room smelled so fragrant. I am not good with identifying flower scents, but I guess it was rose. I didn't know; totally not sure.

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"Why is this room so clean?" I asked, scanning the room.

He laughed. "This room is really intended for prostitution services. I just designed this room in order to make it more calming," he said, caressing my shoulders.

"Here lies sins and deception, in spite of its good and fine appearance," he added, gluing his eyes on me as if I was a mouth-watering delicacy. He even groped my biceps.

"You have the looks, why don't you just work for me, and ditch Mr. Kim? I will triple the money."

I raised a brow and replied sarcastically, "Let's see, but you should make me feel comfortable here."

He ordered some men to get a drink, and he asked me to sit on the bed. I put my hand in my pocket and got the drugs—a green, mashed leaf in a sachet.

"This is the weed. Give me the money now." I sneered.

"Whoa! Chill. Maybe we could talk a little bit longer. I ordered my men to get some vodka." He tried to touch my chest, but I slapped his hand.

He scoffed. "Down boy. I have men inside this house. It could get really ugly if you continue that attitude of yours."

"I am sorry, but I have to go," I uttered standing up. He pushed me back, and I stumbled on the bed.

"Wait, you look so anxious. Just chill for a while, and think about my offer. Trust me; you will like my company more." He placed his fingers on my knee and drew circles repeatedly.

"Trust?" I scoffed. 

Squinting my eyes in a glare, I continued, "That's the thing that I don't possess. You are mistaken!" 

"Oh, please. Don't be so scary now. I know you would like me better," he said as he gently placed his hands on my legs.

I stood, pulling my desert eagle together with the silencer and pointed it to him

"Wait, what was that? Put it down! I am warning you. Put it down!" he stood, panicking. He walked backwards towards the door. His face was in full terror upon seeing the gun went near him. I walked a few inches further until the gun's lips kissed his forehead.

"Now, you are doomed! You shouldn't have trusted me, you sex maniac! Do you think that I will leave Mr. Kim just for you?"

"H-he-hey! Do you think that if you killed me you'll get away with this? No! I have my men outside, and they will hunt you!"

"Do whatever you want. It doesn't matter. I am just doing this just what Mr. Kim had told me... Any death wish?"

Without any hesitation, I pulled the trigger of my gun, and the bullet struck to his skull in a matter of seconds. His skull cracked and exploded. With blood flowing like a dam from his head, his fat body followed and lay down on the floor like a paper pushed by the gentle breeze. The moment was so surreal, riveting I guess. I was enthralled by the effects of blood stains like a stream of a river flowing on the nearby carpet. I saw his yellowish brain splatter to pieces into the wall with blood stains on it.

Wiping the blood on my face, I paused. I smiled quietly and looked at his lifeless body. My eyes rolled in delight. I didn't need drugs. This was way more addicting than any form of those devil's powder. If you think that butterflies in the stomach were just for those corny, disgusting romance stuff, you were definitely wrong. I felt like my spirit was wondering in an unfathomable endless road of absolute euphoric feeling. No amount of money or any human pleasure holes could match this feeling I felt right at this moment. I didn't care what people would say or if someday cops would catch me. I just truly enjoyed this moment.

As I was trying to get the briefcase, I was interrupted by a deep voice.

"Sir, here is your..."

Shit! A young man walked in. I was not able to recognize his features, but I was sure he was young like me, around 20-24 years of age, wearing a school uniform. My eyes rolled, and I looked at him shocked, with a little bit of anger and disappointment. He also stared at me the same way I did.

Who the fuck was he? Why did I feel very weird? There was something in him that I didn't understand. He captivated my realm of interest in the most disturbing way. I was thunderstruck. He was more than a devil for tormenting me with just a matter of seconds. Was he the human form of conscience? No! Definitely not.

"You! You killed him!" he exclaimed as he pointed his finger at me.

He dropped the tray and ran. I was still stuck at the moment, frozen. The hands of time stopped ticking. I couldn't move a single joint. After a few seconds, I finally managed to snap back to my senses. He was planning to call the cops I guess.

As I ran into the living room where the party was going on, I was dumbfounded to see that there were no people anymore. There were only boxes of cigarettes, empty beer and liquor bottles in the messy living room—remnants of a party I never had. I couldn't describe how messy the place was, maybe because my head was messier at that time. Were the cops outside? Have they gone here in just that matter of time? No fucking way!

Instead of wondering where they were, I focused my attention on that guy who witnessed the crime. I got out of the house, and I saw him running along the trail, between rice fields.

Oh no! He was going to the nearest phone booth at the end of the trail, going to the main highway. I ran as fast as I could. He was panting at that moment, and he was slowing down. There was a sudden, intense release of adrenaline on me like a gasoline burning down my veins. I had enough energy to catch him.

Stumbling him down, I pinned him on the ground and grappled him really hard.

"What did you see? What the fuck did you see?" I yelled.

He groaned. "Nothing! I just saw Boss de Leon's dead body, lying on the floor."

"Don't you ever dare to call the cops, or else I will rip your tongue and blow your motherfucking brains off."

"Do you really think that you can get away with this? Don't fool yourself, Jyno. They will hunt you! Even if you kill me, they will still hunt you!"

"How did you know my name? Who are you?" I yelled, grabbing his collar.

Laughing boisterously, he spat on my face. I held his arms tight as I punched him repeatedly. He groaned. I could feel the intensity of his groans as I punched him more and more. His lips exploded as blood spurt out from his bleeding mouth. Some of his teeth flew in the thin air.

Feeling tired, I pulled my knife from my jacket, just what I had prepared and pointed it on his throat

"Go! What are you waiting for? Kill me." his voice was muffled, gurgling in blood.

I trembled at that time, stuck again. Why couldn't I do it? Why was he difficult to kill? Who was this person? If I didn't kill him, I would get caught or get killed as well. War of thoughts fusilladed my head, and I felt like I was going to become crazy. No, I was going to become crazier.

I couldn't think straight anymore. All of a sudden, he punched me. I had no idea where the hell he got that strength after being beaten almost to death. I stumbled. With the sudden turn of tables, I was now the one who was pinned down. He held my arms and punched me repeatedly. I got lucky to pick up a knife and unintentionally stabbed him on his thigh. His thigh was not really my target. But what should I do? I had to save myself.

"Ahh!" he shouted in pain.

Retracting, he crawled away from me. The knife impaled his skin deeply, rupturing his veins. Blood flowed excessively like a stormy river. I mustered my strength and stood. I picked up my gun and shot him in his ankle to stop him from crawling.

He screamed in pain—a pain that was very unexplainable. A pain you could not imagine where the hell came from. He cried and wailed loudly. I strode up to his front and saw his tears as the light from the nearby street light lit his white, pale skin.

"Please! Do not kill me! Please, I am begging you!"

The fierce guy who was threatening me a while ago became a tame sheep begging for his life. Without any word, I pulled the knife from his thigh abruptly. I know it was very painful for him. He screamed and cried. His voice was bone-chilling like a roar of the lion accompanied by the trembling of the thunder. As I picked the knife, I flipped him over, and I stabbed him in the chest. Blood squirted to my face and my jacket. I was not contented in doing that. Gritting my teeth and grinning, I stabbed it about five to seven times more. Faster. Harder. Deeper.

When I saw his ripped off chest, with some rib and chest bones coming out from his skin like a wild carcass, I stopped. I couldn't hear his voice. He was dead. I knew it.

This was the first time I killed a person as gruesome as this. I didn't normally use melee weapons to kill persons my clients wanted me to kill. Usually, the process was fast. This time, it was very different. I felt that my entire body was the one who killed him, instead of just my sinful, hired hands. He was only an innocent guy working for that fat fuck. But a sudden thought came to my mind. What was he doing on that house? He must have been a good student. One couldn't be able to really imagine that he was also a drug dealer. His angelic face contradicted it all.

I decided to check his pocket thinking that I might see something relevant to his identity. I saw his wallet and his ID. I was so shocked knowing that he was studying at the same school I used to study.

And his name was Aldrian Franco.