LUVENIS DEORUM • FUENCIADO

NON AMOR

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Jaime had to kill, he didn't like it, but that's how it worked, either kill or be killed.

Lito didn't like Vic, but Vic? He liked his new job. It was nothing but money on the side. Not like he cared to do anything else for the gang.

That's something that Lito didn't like. One slip up and the whole gang could be under fire and on a plate in two seconds.

The other two faces were good at their job and they kept getting better, but there was just something about Vic.

Every single person in that gang had cruel intentions, but surely not to anyone who had the bad blood in their bodies.

Vic was a face of the gang, he acted dumb, he played innocent just to get some cops off of WF'S back, but if there is a chance that Vic gets bored, that gang is gone.

There was nothing that could stop him from doing what easy thing that could potentially be brewing.
Jaime was in one of the torn up rooms it was dark, dusty and locked from the inside, he was wearing black on black, not like he had to cover up his tracks of anything, he's in the gang house for fucks sake, it would just be better for the moment.

He was good at this, he knew what to do, when to do it and how to do it. He was a professional. Pure life of a hit man was hot wired into his bloodstream, he's been here since day one and he's never going back.
That was exactly why Lito picked him.
He didn't know what Lito had against Vic, but he did know that he wanted him dead, or gone. Either was fine, 'just get the tiny thing out of the yellow house,' that was all.
That was what Jaime did, or was trying to do.

All but one person knew that the devil was in the details and that one person was Vic.

Jaime was fucking phenomenal at his job. He's memorized several details about everyone in the yellow house, especially footsteps.

It was Friday, 2:58 AM. Vic seems to come up and change the stereo to The Notorious B.I.G instead of the usual Snoop Dogg that's playing, at three o'clock: When his shift was over.
Jaime checked the time on his watch, keeping his phone on the dusty bedside table that was rarely used.

2:59

That's when he heard small, light footsteps marching up creaky wood stairs.

Vic was a small guy, he had a feminine edge to himself, he kept himself quiet and set away, he had long hair that stopped at his shoulders, it would've looked longer if it weren't for the curls at the end of it.
Unlike Jaime's unruly hair which had curls all the way around, though it was usually slick with either rain, blood or sweat.

The footsteps got closer and closer, Jaime unlocked the door.
Jaime counted them until he started to count down, he closed his eyes, praying to Mary if another soul was lost tonight, praying to anything for what he was about to do.

3

2

1

And with that, Jaime pressed the door handle in firmly to the point where it made no noise, turning it quickly to open the sliding hinge and grabbing Vic by his faded Pulp Fiction shirt as soon as he crossed the open door.