I looked through the scope again, not believing my eyes. For 13 years I have been an assassin for hire, but this was the first time I had to kill myself.
I remembered the means in which his benefactors had used smartly to inform me of my victim.
Go to the top of the Megatron Skyscraper on Thursday at 3.45pm.
You'll see a sniper rifle already mounted and aimed, look through the scope and see your target.
Now I knelt at the building, looking at myself through the already mounted sniper rifle.
A picture with my logo underneath it.
That's the name of my business and with wanting to be the best in this line of work, I had never refused or ran away from a job.
All jobs are just that, Jobs.
Job's that need to be done, jobs that I'll do for the right price.
A quote from my mentor long in the past and now it has been integrated as my memo.
Although now as he stood on top that building, his vision of becoming the best hitman in the world was blurred.
Just faking his death without anyone knowing could be quite an easy solution to the problem.
Yet they asked for proof of his death.
He looked through the scope again, admiring the ingenuity of his contractor.
Using mirrors and lenses configured around 3 buildings. So that as one looks through the scope, they see themselves right back, I was amazed.
Still the thought of what I must do rang out in my mind.
"How do I exterminate myself?"
That was the main question.
I sat on the roof thinking, light shone against the mirrors set on the opposite building and then it struck me.
No better way for them to believe I exterminated myself than for them to see me actually do the deed.
"Hahaha." I laughed out loud at the sudden burst of inspiration.
"The Mirror Death." I said out loud, liking the name and the feels it brought.
I took out my phone and called my handler.
"Put me through to the best Glazier we have."
"Glazier, sir?" The enhanced voice on the other line asked, confused.
"Yes D, the best Glazier, and quick! I have a plan." I cut the call then put the phone on the floor and shot it.
The sharp sound of the bullet breaks away the silence of the rooftops.
In less than 4 minutes my other phone rang. Walking down the street across from my building I picked up.
"Gonzalez Glassware, what can I do you for ?"
The voice at the other end spoke.
'Gonzalez ', most likely an anagram.
"I need mirrors, a whole lot of mirrors."
" Care if I ask for why?" He asked again, in a strange accent modified with the voice changer. One that I just couldn't pick out.
"I want to perform a trick, an illusion if you may..." I described exactly what I was planning to do, while describing I also noted what I needed for the job.
"I know exactly what you need." Gonzales said before ending the call.
At home, I layed on my bed looking at the clock.
The messages to my contractors had been sent and all necessary materials had been made available. I smiled as I was about to sleep off, 18 hours till my death.
On the day, I oversaw it all being placed. I was meant to get shot on a roof, with the same rifle I used to see my death warrant. I'll fall into a meat grinder in an alleyway coming out as a bloody mush. The idea was that the great Brian shouldn't die a regular death.
I stepped on my death roof and noticed the air was colder than usual. I could feel the cold sweat creeping down the back of my net and my heart beat was pounding on my ears.
I stepped on the edge and saw them looking at me, my clothes edge flew around with the wind while I looked at my watch, 3 mins till it started.
Time slowed down as I realized what I was about to do, a great gamble that the likes of Houdini would never try.
I looked around and spotted them. Spies of the criminal underworld coming to watch this secret yet public execution of a name that would soon become a legend.
I looked and could barely see the pane of glass fixed at their line of sight.
I checked my time again, 30 seconds. It's showtime.
With flamboyant gestures and a great voice I spoke.
"Remember me while I say this, for Brian's Execution doesn't fear or shy away from any job. For a job is just that, a job."
Counting the time before the bullet came out I looked straight at the main contractor's eyes and smiled.
"Death comes for all of us, in all shapes and sizes. Hope I don't come for you.."
The shot fired.
I stood up from the bottom of the garbage bin, my back aching while looking at the height I fell from.
I untaped the coin, dented from the bullet out of my chest and stumbled out.
I looked at my watch, 5 hours after my supposed execution.
My phone rang, it was Handler.
"How does it feel to be dead Mr B?" He asked with a bit of sarcasm in his altered voice.
"It feels refreshing," I say back.
"How was my show?"
"It's blowing up on Crime Net. The great Brian exterminator does his biggest job."
"Yet."
"Pardon me Sir?" He asked, confused.
"My biggest job yet." I say it in full
"I hope you didn't think I was done?" I asked laughing
"I guess I mistook that for what your death means. You know you can't just go back to being Bryan."
"Bryan's dead." I say dusting my pants and collecting the shoes I left under the bin.
"I'm now Diablo, and I have a job to do." I wore the hoodie jacket and put on my shades.
"Bring out my car to the address I'm about to send you, and I want you to message Mr White." I said into the phone while walking towards the alley with the meat grinder.
"Your last contractor?" He asked back.
"Yes."
"What should I write?"
I thought for a while and smiled as I looked at the body that's meant to be me.
"Tell him death is coming."
I just realized that I have been rather inactive in this community. It kinda hurt me as I first join this writing community before others, yet here I am lacking.
So I've decided to at least be posting 2 stories a week here and trying to comment on stories as much as I can.😊
