Ain't No Rest For The Wicked((ON HOLD))

Prologue: London Calling

Prologue

27 October

It was midnight when I left my sad excuse for an apartment for my job, but luckily I wouldn't be there tomorrow. It was the middle of October and it was quite cold out, but it's always cold in London, England. Anyways I walked down the streets, not really paying attention to anything, or anyone. They say you shouldn't wonder the streets at night, especially for someone so young looking, but I ignored them. It was going to take awhile to get to where I would go. I walked faster than I normally would, and refused to take any transportation, not wanting to risk someone to see my face; I couldn't afford-wait 'they' couldn't afford me getting caught. I was too valuable at the time, I mean. I was only a few blocks away from my 'target'. I ignored the drunks, that waisted their money on stuff that burned their throats and made them act delusional. I pity the poor bastards.

A block away from my 'target' now. I began think of a perfect clean plan. No finger prints, not bullets, no nothing that can be traced to me or to them. But why would anything be traced to them. Half the world doesn't even though they exist! You know I've been doing this for years, and to this day I still didn't think of a plan until that night. I'm the thinks-as-they-go type of person, ya'know? I think something deadly sliding down their throats would do. Something unknown and untraceable deadly thing. Yeah, that'll work just nicely. And I have the perfect, shameless act to go with it. I finally came up to the street where my target lives on. I was jumping out of my boots to how excited I was for this go down. Just a few more houses until I'm there. One house, two house, ah, here we are. This house looks like every other house on this drive. Didn't the architechs know about individuality? Lets get this over with. I still haven't packed yet. I really am such a procrastinator.

I went up the wet steps, to the front door. There was a light on, so someone was up. Lets just hope its him and not the misses, or else that'll just ruin everything. Before I ringed the bell or knocked on the plain door, I readied myself for an Oscar awarding winning performance. I opened my eyes wide, so the cold air would possibly make them slightly red, and watery. I did a slight jog in place, so my breathing would sound heavy. My face was already flushed from the cold. Okay, I think I'm ready, lets just hope this sucker will believe me. Wait I forgot something. Oh boy this is gonna hurt. I lifted my hand up, stretched it from my face, and brought it back, slapping my check hard, and echoing the slap across the vacant drive. The slap hurt, and hopefully left a bright mark on my face, and it made my eyes water even more, and hopefully put ''hurt'' in them. Okay, I'm ready. I walked away from the house, readied myself and slightly jogged up the steps and knock, furiously.

My 'target' opened to door, confused as to why someone would knock on his door this late. The pompous man eyed me curiously with his pink beady eyes, before speaking in his accent, ''What do ya think ya doing here, lad?" I breathed in and out hard as if I've been running a marathon. Now time to put on my fake accent, which I think is quite good, to be honest. "Please sir, ya gotta help me!" I pleaded, looking behind my shoulder as if someone is chasing after me. "My dad's a drunken mess, and had to many, and he just lost his job, and.. and...'' Crap need an excuse! I made my face look desprate and pleaded with him with my face. C'mon man just let me in! "Please ya gotta help me!'' I begged. Yeah, help me, so I won't get my ass handed to me by bigger men sent after me, just because I failed a simple mission. Let me in dammit! He looked over at my pleading face,  before opening his door wider, and motioned my to come in. I quietly thanked him for letting me in.

Once I stepped foot into his normal looking home, I felt instantly warm. I heard the door close quietly. His footsteps were low and quiet. Either he knows who I really am and lets face it, he probably doesn't even know who I am, or he really doesn't want to wake up his wife. Lets go with the second one. "Please sit. You must be cold.'' He suggested, motioning to one of the floral printed chairs. This place looks like the Dursley's home in the Harry Potter movies. I've already seen the fifth movie, and I can't wait for the latest one and  I also heard they were gonna split the seventh one into two parts. Huh, I just remembered. It's October. It'll be my birthday soon. I wonder where I'm going to celebrate it. Listen to me! I'm getting off track. Damn my young attention span! I just realized that I've been standing in the middle of the room like a bloody idiot. I went into the living room and sat in one of the chairs. I instantly sunk into the chair, which greatly helped my soar back. The small twin bed in my crappy apartment really hurt it. I looked around the comfy room. Pictures of the family were hanging on the walls, and resting on the mantle above the fire place.