David Artsmith - When I say that I kill with a certain amount of regret, I am not trying to be apologetic, or coy. I really do appreciate people. Those little individualities that make up the details of their character, the way they laugh, the way they burp, the way the move when nobody at all is watching, except me, hidden in the shadows.
And it really is a shame to see all of that go. But you know, a girl’s gotta eat.
So I was following this old banker down Third Avenue. It was late, but I didn't mind, I like the night. Its just a tiny bit more raw.
So he was doing some boring thing or another. It was a bit difficult to pay attention. I hate bankers. Not just like some racist thing. I hate numbers, and basically anyone that gets involved with them. Numbers are so exact. I hate exact things. I prefer to compromise.
Anyways, he slipped into this apartment. I guess it was some girls place. I followed by scampering up the outside of the wall. Suction is such a cool thing.
The lights came on, and I saw they were standing in a kitchen. They started yapping, something about love and babies and pancakes, like I said I wasn't paying much attention. I just strapped in, and pulled out a copy of entertainment weekly. Hmmmm, Britney you idiot.
Anyways the next thing I remember was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, hard. A slap, I blinked, pulled out my sidearm, stood up in my stirrups, and hit him with two bullets in the ear.
The woman was on the floor, a large bruise rising from her cheek. The man lay diagonally across from her, blood pouring from his head.
I holstered my sidearm, folded my page in Entertainment Weekly, and dropped to the floor. I’d gone 20 feet before I even heard the woman scream.
I guess that’s the way I roll lol. Anyways, this was therapeutic, and…fun. Maybe I'll let you all know about a few more of my so called adventures
Related Reading:
