Richard

The notification bell of my phone alerts me about a message. Stopping near the stairs to the glamorous hotel, I take it out of my coat pocket.

After turning it on, I see that my client has paid the money for my service. Good, I was sceptical of him when he said he'd pay later after I had gone through the trouble of shooting and plucking out the target's incisor teeth as per his request. While holding the phone, I notice some of the dried blood is still under my thumbnail. How bothersome...even though I took a shower and cleaned all that blood off.

Putting the phone back in my pocket, I make my way up the stairs as I pass by many fancy people whose appearance screams wealth. Well, it IS  a high-class hotel. The guard opens the glass doors for me and I step inside feeling like stepping into the world of high society.

Lydia had called me earlier, informing me to come over to discuss our next step. I had mixed feelings when she said she's at Judy's grave. The more she goes there the more depressed she'll get. Right now Lydia needs to focus on her goal. The kid is a distraction. She said she'll kill him when Morgan reaches her home. I already made sure it happens quickly. Following Morgan around had been a huge pain. It wasn't thrilling at all and just watching her made me angry. Lydia doesn't know what I have done. Morgan really did a number on Jessica. Girl looked like a broken doll. Poor thing couldn't even move so I just wrote it down with her blood. Glimmer of hope to be rescued is what I saw but nope, I wasn't here for that. Nevertheless, it was time for the truth to come out. Her brother would die either way by Lydia or Morgan whose starting to lose her marbles. Now Morgan will search up and go to Lydia's house. The boy will die and Lydia will get back in the game.

Calmly walking towards the elevator, I press the button and wait for it along with other people who are present here. I notice them eyeing me closely as I stand unhinged in my long brown leather trench coat, grey shirt and neatly combed hair. I lived most of my life being surrounded by such people that it doesn't faze me. Not saying I dislike them, since it's because of their hatred, jealousy and ill intentions that I can make a living.

I used to hate them at first. Being from the countryside, I used to think of the people living in the big cities as rich snobs who look down on those below them. Even resenting my father who moved us here because of my grandfather who worked as a hitman for some rich family and wanted dad to serve their next heir.

The elevator arrives and I enter along with a man in a suit and two women in evening gowns. Pressing the thirteenth-floor button, I back away to the corner of the large elevator.

While waiting awkwardly, I scrape the dried blood off of my thumb while hiding my hands in my pocket. Watching the reflection of the people on the wall, I feel amused as I remember I read online, that an average person walks by a murderer 36 times in their lives.

The elevator stops at the 7th floor and one of the women walks out. The doors close after a few seconds. I notice the man in the suit sneaking glances at the woman in the other corner and slowly taking a step in her direction. I frown, disgusted by his intentions, and step in between them preventing him from getting to her. The man tries not to show any reaction but I can see him clenching his fists.

It's people like him I despise the most. I would gladly kill one for even a penny. Trash like them doesn't deserve to live.

The elevator finally stops at the thirteenth floor and I realise that the lady also wanted to get off on this floor.

"Thanks for that. I was so uncomfortable and he was standing next to the elevator buttons so I couldn't just get off." She says sheepishly with a smile.

"No problem," I say to her and walk towards Lydia's room. The woman goes the other way.

Ringing the bell, I wait for her to open the door. Even though she did give me an extra card to this room, it's rude to just barge in.

After standing awkwardly in the hallway for a few seconds, I press the bell again. But still no response. Is she not home yet? But she said she's just on her way to the hotel while I was at home. I figured she'd be here by now since it's not that far.

I take out my phone to call her until I hear something from inside the room. It sounded like an object falling to the ground. Then I remember she has that little brat staying with her. Of course. I had totally forgotten about him.

Taking out the card, I bring it towards the scanner and the door opens. I push open the door and look inside the purple and black themed room.

Empty. There is no one. I notice a bag of toys on top of the living room table and the remote on the floor. Walking towards the black sofa, I can tell he was sitting there.

All of a sudden the bedroom door slams open and the kid reveals himself. My eyes widen and I smirk at the sight in front of me while feeling myself getting highly amused.

The kid stands there, fear clear as day in his eyes, shivering while holding Lydia's silver revolver and pointing the muzzle at me.

"Why you sneaky little sh-" I began to say but he interrupts me.

"P-put your hands up!" He yells in a shaky voice. I shrug and simply comply, feeling like an idiot for been held at gunpoint by a five-year-old.

"Do you know what you're holding in you're hand right now?" I ask him as I take a step closer to him. I don't know how he got the gun since Lydia hid it somewhere safe but I know it's not loaded. She never loaded it. But Liam thinks it is and he's pointing it at me. I need to take it away from him.

"I know! I-I know it's a gun. A real one. Now, please, stand back!" He says as he subconsciously takes a step back.

"Where did you find it? And why are you pointing it at me?" I ask, distracting him with the questions and slowly getting closer to him.

"I'm not telling you anything! You're here to kill me, aren't you!? That's why you broke in." He utters and coughs as tears roll down his eyes while he holds the gun in his shaking hands.

I sigh. Did Lydia tell him something? She won't, of course. Maybe he heard? As much as I wish to kill him right now, I know Lydia wouldn't want that and she must do it herself.

"Why would I kill you? Listen, I'm Lydia's friend. She told me to come over. She'll be here any minute." I inform him as I get closer to him. He stops and blinks away the tears, silently thinking of what to do.

"Give me the gun. Kids shouldn't be holding on to such things. I'm telling you, I'm not here to hurt you." I calmly insist and stretch out my hand to him.

He sniffs and thinks for a second before handing over the gun to me.

I swiftly take it from him. I check the barrel and to my sheer surprise, I find it loaded with all six bullets.

"Did...did you load this gun yourself? " I ask him not believing a kid his age could do such a thing.

He looks at me as he clenches the bottom hem of his red plaid shirt and nods his head.

I kneel down to his level, looking at him in disbelief.

"How? How do you know how to load a gun?" I ask him sternly. He points to the laptop on the bed.

"I googled it." He bluntly answers and coughs.

I facepalm myself and get up. Not only did Lydia not hide the gun properly in her room along with the bullets, but she didn't even put a security password on her laptop. I walk over to the bed and open the laptop which was on sleep. As it turned on, A video about a revolver being loaded comes to the screen. The kid stands there watching me as I start setting a password on her software.

"How did you know what type of gun this is? You like guns or something?" I ask him since I saw that he had literally written revolver on the search bar.

The kid lays down on the floor and stares up at the ceiling.

"Dad likes guns. He has this huge room with all sorts of guns on the wall. He shows them to me but mom doesn't like that and tells me not to go in. I would just hide and watch dad clean and load his pistols, revolvers and the long one, rifles I think. One day I snuck in and took a revolver just like this one. I cleaned it, loaded it but I accidentally shot it at the wall and cried. It was so scary!" He laughs as he rolls on the ground while he coughs some more.

"A gun does nothing but cause harm and death," I warn him.

He ignores, gets up and exits the room. I hear him opening the refrigerator. I guess he's drinking water. He seemed to be coughing a lot, I wonder if something is wrong.

As I work on the laptop, I check to see if he has sent any emails to someone or done something that would make Lydia look suspicious. The news about him is everywhere now and Lydia will need to get rid of him quickly before she draws any more attention.

I hear him playing in the living room and get reminded how energetic kids are. One moment he's bawling his eyes out and in the next, he's smiling and playing like nothing happened. Kids are really simple.

I think I understand why Lydia found it difficult to kill him. He reminded her of Judy and I can see the resemblance in the behaviour.

When my dad first came to their modern villa, he brought me along too. I was like, 7 years old but already knew I was going to be a hitman like my elders. I met her shyly peeking into the room. I thought she must be a shy girl but later as we met I found her quite annoying, childish and a brat in every sense of the word. I had a great love for books. Still do. But she'd always insist on me playing with her when I just wanted to be alone with a book. Due to my southern accent and being from the countryside, she'd call me a cowboy and tease me. We had to go to the same school too. She was insufferable.

I loved the piano too. I had a huge passion for music. I'd play it at school since I mostly trained at the villa and Judy would come and childishly dance to it. She told me to pursue my dream of a pianist instead of becoming a hitman. Slowly I realised she wasn't that bad. She was a dreamer and kind to those below her. Sorta princess like I think.

"Lydia!" I hear Liam yell. I guess she's back. I close the laptop, finishing my work.

Lydia on the other hand was elegant, mature and gentle. Even though she was an orphan in poor clothes, she always walked with such poise and grace. Me and Judy were both drawn to her, especially Judy.

"I've brought some medicine, so tell me if something feels off." I hear her say.

Getting up from the bed, I make my way towards the living where she is to make my presence known.