Banner by -Acheronomad

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Five years and a few weeks ago...

Paul was about to finish his shift as the cook in a congested bistro near his apartment building in a downscale but peaceful neighborhood, grilling last of his chicken patties for the day in the kitchen, when he heard a knock at the back door. A scrawny kid Paul had never seen before, stood there. He looked harassed and on the verge of tears.

"Hey, Kiddo!" Paul addressed the teenage boy, "What's the matter? Are there dogs after you?" He joked, trying to put the kid at ease.

The boy pointed a trembling finger towards the street but didn't say anything. He kept on staring at Paul as if wanting his sympathy. Paul pushed the boy aside and came out in the alley, wiping his greasy hands on the apron he wore over his checkered shirt.

A dark silhouette stood just around the curb looking their way. The figure raised their wrist closer to their eyes, seemingly checking the time.

"Can you watch the patties for me while I deal with this punk?" Paul asked the boy, taking off the apron and handing it to him, "Just turn them the other side after a while and don't let them burn or the Palmer guy is gonna be real pissed at me."

Paul cautiously approached the stranger, with hands in his jeans pockets, giving the impression of having a concealed weapon at his disposal though there was nothing in them, a trick he learned during his years as an assassin.

He could not make out the features of the black figure in the dim light from the street lamp, even though he tried squinting his eyes and the hoodie that was covering his face was making it all the more difficult for Paul to recognize the guy.

As Paul get nearer, the guy started walking towards him. Paul was taken aback for a second, he was expecting that person to move in opposite direction. When they were close enough, the figure pulled down the hood of his jacket, revealing he was not a stranger at all.

"You?" Paul asked the man, surprise evident on his face.

"Now now! Is this the way to greet an old friend?" The man replied, faking hurt.

"You are not my friend!" Paul snapped.

The other guy turned dead serious, the scars on his face making him look eviller than he already was. "We need to talk." He said, more like ordered.

Paul mentally prepared himself for the worst scenario. "I'm listening." He responded, aware that arguing will do him no good.

"This is important." Death Master said sternly.

"I figured that much." Paul replied, "You could have send someone else but you came yourself, that's prove enough."

"I need you to go on a mission." Death Master said, emphasizing on need.

"I don't work for you anymore." Paul reminded him.

"I know." Death Master said, his tone becoming somewhat affable, "It's that, I can't find anyone else who could be suitable for this job."

"I'm sorry but I'm not interested," Paul said, "now if you will excuse me I have work to do." He turned to head back towards the restaurant.

Death Master placed a firm hand on his shoulder, to prevent him from leaving. "Hear me out, I won't take long."

Paul sensed desperation in his voice. "I just told you I'm not interested," He repeated himself, "I'm content with my life right now and don't wanna risk it."

"Oh c'mon! You are THE Nightmare," Death Master mocked him, "since when are you afraid of leading a dangerous life?"

"Since I got married and my wife became pregnant!" Paul replied feverishly.

"Congratulations daddy!" Death Master exclaimed, ignoring Paul's anguish. "This task I have for you can make you filthy rich, then you won't have to work in a low key place like this. You can afford the most expensive stuff for your wife... that will make her happy. Your kid can have a bright future. Just think of all the possibilities, man!"

"What's the probability of getting caught?" Paul asked, scratching his beard.

"Hundred and ten percent," Death Master answered, "but who doesn't like a little adventure,right?"

"What would I have to do?" Paul knew he should not be doing this, that it was wrong but he couldn't resist.

Death Master smiled and replied excitedly, "Here is the plan...."

*****************

Paul took the plates from Evangeline as she cleared the table after their late night dinner and headed towards the kitchenette, "I will wash these, you go and lie down." He said over his shoulder.

Eve followed him.

Paul was not being himself since he got back from work today. First he didn't take a shower, a routine he had been following for three straight years, from the time he started working at the bistro, then she caught him staring into space with the fork halfway through to his mouth and now he was offering to wash the dishes and Paul hated doing dishes.

"Are you feeling alright dear?" Eve asked him, concern etched on her pretty face, "You have been acting strange."

"Huh? No...I mean...yes," Paul stammered, "Everything is okay! You are just being delusional."

Eve gave him a I-don't-believe-you look.

"I'm just saying that you must be tired after a hectic day at the salon and the baby needs rest." Paul tried explaining himself.

"Hmmm...if you insist." Eve shrugged.

Paul caught hold of her arm before she could leave. He gave her a passionate kiss as if his life depends on it, "Remember that I love you and always will." He whispered in her ear. "Daddy loves you too baby." Paul said, placing a hand over her protruded belly.

Evangeline stared at him uncertainly, then turned and walked away without saying a single word.

As soon as Eve closed the door behind her, Paul picked his car keys from the T.V table and raced down the stairs. He only had 25 minutes to reach the parking lot.

Eve watched from their bedroom window as Paul backed his battered civic into the street and drove away. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

She knew he would break his promise one day.

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Paul found Anthony perched on the hood of a black truck, in the darkest corner, waiting for him.

Russell 'Bloody' Anthony had a reputation of being a ruthless killer. He liked torturing his victims, mostly rich and authoritative people, in the most gruesome ways. On the outside he appeared to be an emotionless beast but Paul knew that it was just a veil to hide the vulnerable man inside.

"Hey buddy!" Anthony cheerfully greeted Paul, "Long time no see." His grim expression lighted up at meeting his old friend again.

Anthony gave him a bear hug. Only Paul had seen this side of him.

"Yeah," Paul said cheekily, "I was kinda busy trying to have a normal life with my wife."

"Man!" Anthony said suddenly, sniffing the air, "You smell like french fries."

"That's because I had been frying them all day." Paul replied with a sly grin.

Anthony laughed, "I wish we could talk," he said, playfully punching Paul's shoulder, "but sadly there is no time for that."

Paul sighed, "Let's get to business."

The plan was simple. They would get to the port in the truck Anthony had brought and take the boat, that had been deposited there, to the villa on the other side of the river and retrieve the file from a safe in the master bedroom, they already have the combination for.

The only problem was the high end security. An army of security guards and watch dogs patrolled the area but Anthony and Paul came well prepared.

The boat ride to the villa was uneventful. They left their vessel a good mile away where the water was shallow and swam the rest of the way, careful to keep the shoulder bags they were carrying above water level. They were wearing masks over their faces.

They succeeded in climbing the wall unnoticed.

Anthony was to detach the alarm system from the control room in the backyard and signal Paul, who was hiding in the bushes nearby with a tranquilizer gun filled with sedative darts, ready to take down any one who proved to be trouble. They had orders to kill as little people as possible.

Thirteen minutes later and after shooting two darts, Paul saw a flash light being flicked on and off thrice. Anthony was signaling him.

A guard was positioned at the main entrance with a dog sitting alert at his feet. Paul shot the dog with his dart gun, it yelped once then went limp. Before the guard could process the situation, Anthony had already done his work. The coast was clear for now.

Finding the master bedroom was easy. The blueprint they had with them, showed that it was the second room upstairs, to the left.

The first thing Paul noticed upon entering the room was a crib placed at a corner. The senator and his wife were sleeping on a frilly bed in the middle of the room.

The safe was on the far wall. Anthony moved towards it but stopped dead in his track as the baby started crying, waking the senator and his wife up.

"Bad timing kid!" Paul muttered under his breath.

Anthony's dad had been an avid supporter of Jimmy Rochester's politics and had lost his life as a stampede broke out at a debate during his election campaign. Anthony was just a teenager back then, his mother and sister were also killed that day.

Anthony had never liked Jimmy or his son.
He aimed the gun at Luke Rochester's head and pulled the trigger. Now finally he could have peace of mind.

Paul looked in horror as the senator's brain exploded. This was not part of the plan! Where the hell did Anthony got a real gun from?

The female let out a shrill scream from the bed and Anthony turned his gun at her, but Paul came in front of her as Anthony shot. The bullet hit him just above the heart. Blood started gushing out.

Paul fell. He could hear sirens wailing in the background and the baby crying. He saw, through slanted eyes, boots coming towards him, "Why did you do that?" Anthony crouched next to him and asked sadly.

Paul was slipping into oblivion. The last thing he saw was Evangeline's distrustful face and then there was darkness.

*****************

Paul gained consciousness at a jail lock-up.

At first he couldn't remember anything, then gradually things started clearing up. Being lifted off the ground by Anthony, being ambushed by the security guards, being captured by the police, being shifted to an ambulance and given an injection to lessen his pain.

As if on cue, his left hand started hurting. His shoulder was bandaged.

"Hey you!" A young man in police uniform called from outside his cell, "Let's go, the chief is asking for you."

Paul was taken to an inquiry room. Anthony was already there. Judging by the crooked smile painted on his face, he seemed to be enjoying himself. He had a bruise on his right cheek, his eyes were almost swollen shut and there was dried blood on his lips.

A well built, mature looking man was standing with his arms folded, by the single table in the room. Paul could tell by the badges on his chest that he was someone important.

"Take a seat, Nightmare." He said in a heavy voice, gesturing at the empty chair next to Anthony's.

Paul sat.

"I know who you both work for," The man started saying but was interrupted by Anthony, "Oooh intuition!" He cracked up with laughter.

He was ignored.

The man continued saying, now looking at Paul, "You have been sentenced for ten years each but if any of you confess in the court that you work for the Death Master, your punishment can be reduced to half."

Anthony distastefully spat on the table, "I will never do that." He growled.

"I will." Paul said, almost eagerly.

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