The bullet penetrated the left temporal. Right through the eye. Again. Fucking hell. Every time.

Pulling myself up, I check in.

“Q, it’s me. You know that old saying,’Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes.'”


“It has gotten real old in my books.”

They left me for dead. Apparently someone failed to do their research. A cocktail of oil and blood ran down my cheek and to my lips. Never really got used to the taste. Spitting out the mixture, I broke into a full sprint down the alleyways.

“Give me location Q, this job needs to be finished now. I really didn’t want to lose some of the pay to rebuilding the left side of my face yet again.”

A slight laugh broke from her standard delivery, “When you hit the street, cut left and wait for the third car. It will be off-white with a broken headlight. Hit them with everything you’ve got. It is fully armored with bulletproof glass.”

“Just bulletproof glass and I assume standard armor plating on the sides. Kevlar tires?”

“You got it champ.”

Within seconds, I found myself standing on the curb. One, two, and there is my target. Unfortunately, they slammed on their brakes when they saw me. My fingers hit the chamber and load a nice bullet just for them. The trigger gives way and as the bullet made its way towards the car, I pull the trigger a second time. The bullet stops, and breaks into a shattering scream. A high frequency bullet does wonders against glass. Even the supposed “bulletproof” kind. The resonance and vibration shatters it into pieces as I load another, something a bit more explosive. No. These guys deserve something more personal. Three of them. This will be quick.

“Listen boys, and more importantly, this is for you. I know you’re on the other end, since you never send your monkeys without a receiver. You will know pain. When I come to find you, and I will, your blood will soak and seep into the soil. The sorry excuse of a body you once had, will be carved into a thousand pieces. Hope you enjoy Hell.”

They were still recovering from the deafening sound of the bullet. The dagger slides from the sheath and into the first merc. Right into the stomach and up to his chin. Blood soaks the car and I step to the front. A small button is flicked and an electrical current runs through my blade. Slamming into the hood, I watch the blood snap and boil with electricity flowing through it and to his partners.

It was louder than a standard alarm on a watch. Wait, where did this come from?
The time was 21:13.

“Can you hear me?”

“Did you finish the job?”

“Yeah, but there is a problem. I’m on my way now, I have a new accessory.”

My fingers trace the edges of a red and black watch. Then, as soon as it had began, the beeping had stopped. 21:14. There is no time for this. I have to get back. My eye, or well, what used to be my eye was starting to hurt.

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