Scribblings from the Asylum Walls

The smell of burning incense filled the room as I walked through the doorway. The penthouse apartment was luxurious and equipped with expensive items that would make most men jealous. I sat down across from him and lit a cigarette. He smiled a friendly smile towards me as I admired his Armani suit. “How are you today?” He enquired so casually.

            “I’m fine,” I replied. I already knew what he wanted but what he didn’t know is that I had already decided against it.

            “Thomas,” he slid a file across the solid oak coffee table between us. “This job is going to require a bit more finesse.”
            I didn’t respond only took a long drag from the cigarette.

            “Of course, I am willing to pay a little extra.”

            “How much extra?” I picked up the file.

            “Two-hundred over your regular price.”

            I scoffed and threw the file back onto the table.

            “Thomas, you aren’t equipped enough to take on the bigger jobs.”

            “I’ve got access to an entire armory; don’t tell me I’m not equipped.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” he said so calmly.

            “What do you mean? I’m tired of your pussyfooting around the fact as to why you don’t give me harder jobs. I’ve proven loyalty to you. I’ve completed every job without fail. Why won’t you just give me a more difficult hit? If you don’t, I will walk from your penthouse and find other work.”

            He sat calmly, smiling at me. “Thomas, do you truly want more difficult work?”

            I sat down and took a drag.

            “I will give you a job to prove your loyalty; to prove you can complete every job without fail.” He was still smiling a happy smile, as if he had recalled a funny joke. He reached into his jacket and pulled a file from within. He delicately set the file on the table, as if it were made of glass. He picked up the other folder and slipped it into his jacket. His smile was still evident but his teeth had now hidden behind his lips. I picked the file up and let out a sigh.

            Most of the jobs he had given me were really bad guys: mafia underlings, rapists, killers, child molesters. I had no problem taking any of them out. The contents of this folder were different. There was a picture of an average looking guy with his family. I flipped through the folder to read the contents. His name was Jack Hanson; he had a wife named April, a seventeen year old son named Dave, and a fifteen year old daughter named Hannah. Jack even had a job as a teacher at the local college.

However, he was missing something the others did have: a rap sheet. I closed the file and looked at my employer. “That’s it? You want me to kill Joe Everyman?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No, I want you to kill Joe Everyman and his family.”

I stared in shock. ‘Did he really just say that?’ I asked myself.

His smile broadened. “This is why you aren’t cut out for the harder jobs I have.”

I held the file in my hands and flipped through it again. I couldn’t let him think I was a coward, but I had my principles. “How much?”

“More than you could ever need.”

I looked at the folder again and looked at Jack Hanson, he looked like a guy I would want to punch in the face. Who was I kidding? I wanted to live next door to this guy and go over for a barbecue and possibly go fishing. I wanted to punch him to make it easier to kill him but he seemed so nice. I took a final drag from my cigarette and snuffed in the ashtray. “I’ll take it,” I finally said getting up.