Chapter 2 – Rituals
Our hooded mercenary stashed the knife in a concealed pocket made into the liner of the overcoat. As they walked away it began to rain. With each raindrop, the once puddled blood began to pool around the lifeless body. The deceased laid there in silence. The rain turned into a downpour and the blood started to flow toward a sewer drain close by.
The evening was filled with much calculation and precision, but did not go as planned. Still, our masked reaper decided to revel in the moment. They disappeared from the scene of the crime. The deed was done. It was not the first, nor the last person on a list of names.
Once back at their flat, the knife’s owner cleaned the instrument and then proceeded to meticulously erase any evidence off their clothes. Luckily there was not much to be done. Black is not just a color that hides blood well, it also looks slimming.
Now that the cleaning was done, our once masked killer grabbed a previously uncorked wine and poured a glass. This was only one of their rituals after the completion of a task. Yes, there was still a master plan that needed to be executed, but this contract was not to be rushed.
Though tonight’s change of events was not according to their liking, the deed was done. With the first sip of wine, they sighed. It was neither a sigh of relief or sorrow. It was a sigh of exhaustion. Some people get to live in this world, work a 9 to 5 job, come home to a family or housemates and unwind. That was not the case for our murderer. The life of the underworld didn’t allow for close relations to anyone. Casualties were too big of a risk.
There was a thin line, between good and evil, that they constantly walked. It left an aching battle within. Their work was not only of their own will, but in part as payment for debt. Some nights, their creeping doubt led them onto a path of uncertainty. As they looked down, they saw the reflection of the person they became.