Today’s writing prompt is brought to you after reading this story. Although well-written, the main character is a cardboard cut-out. I attempted to change that with this entry – it’s not going up on Protagonize, as I wouldn’t want to insult the author. I found that, even with one chapter, it was hard to not make a cardboard cut-out hitman.
Howard let the sweat drip down his back. He had tailed this guy for weeks. The money was easy, his client had said. Just rub the guy out, nothing special. A “kill and be done with it” hit. No torture, no video tape, no making the guy disappear.
Luckily it was easy, here in Chicago. Howard had moved from building to building, doorway to doorway, sometimes even into the lobby of the John Hancock Center, where Coldwell Banker was located. The mark was a simple stockbroker. The client was a woman he had screwed. Whether literally or figuratively, he thought would be unnecessary to know.
There, the mark came out the front doors. He turned toward the parking garage directly across the street. Howard moved, falling into step right behind him. He followed him deep into the recesses of the garage. Howard heard some squeal of tires as they tried to negotiate around the twists and curves of the incoming and outgoing ramps. He put his hand in his pocket, feeling the nice little .22, meant for close quarter work.
The mark took the elevator down, and he jumped in. Here was too obvious. He needed to wait. The mark glanced back at him, curious. Howard smiled. The mark turned back to the door, though Howard knew that the man felt something odd. There was no time to lose now.
Howard waited until the man cleared the elevator before jumping him. He put one arm across the man’s face so that if he screamed it would be of no use. The man tried to bite his arm, but that was all right, as he had put on some leather around it, the kind of leather bracer that was used for falconry. Howard dragged the man off to the side of the elevator, into a tiny tucked alcove.
Then, in the shadows, Howard pulled out the .22 with the silencer and shot the man three times point blank at the base of the skull. He let the man down easily, gently, almost as a lover would set his beloved down on a bed. He got up and hissed as he saw his jacket had a few blood spots on them. He turned the jacket inside out – of which it was reversable – and then stepped over the body, leaving the scene calmly, mentally counting the money.
Music: None
Comment: “Anything you can do, I can do better” attempt.
Words: 463.