Different

Email

Lens perspective

The rainy street appeared ugly when the rain reflected it.

After walking for a few blocks I pulled out my buss pass and stood by the bus sign.

The breaks shirked when the bus came to a halt. I slide my card on the slot and sat on the first seat. Today there was only an elder lady and a businessman. Both equally distant from each other.

Though I've never been on this bus number before, on Saturdays the busses are normally packed. But i'm not complaining.

Think of a number from one through ten. I sat for a moment, Hm.. three. I stepped off the bus at the third stop and unironically followed the businessman as that was his dropoff.

"No, you see I filed the paperwork last Monday. Mm hm. I understand sir." He spoke  obnoxiously loud on his phone.

This time I was far away from any neighborhood but now near apartment complexes and stores.

His black suitcase bounced back and forth as I watched from 4 feet away.

"Mr. Hathoway, the director said that he was on vacation." He turned toward the parking lot of a building.

How boring.

When he turned I turned but went straight to a bus stop that had a glass shell around it. While he went back to his unimportant life.

Maybe I shouldn't people watch today, I thought while leaning down to sit on the bench. Trying not to make eye contact with the man asking for spare change to the passersby's.

Eventually I waited for the number 6 bus that gave me a ride to my very own apartment complex.

"Uh Mr. Jenninghands?" I heard while I walked off the bus. "Sir?" I turned.

"Is this yours?" The driver pointed to an empty wallet that laid on the dashboard. "No sir."

"All alright." He closed the bus door.

Damn atleast thank me for your useless information.

I looked back at the moving bus and thought of Mr. Jenninghands. The man I got one of my cards from. Man, did he scream. Kek.

Up three floors and to to my apartment I opened the door to reveal a somewhat empty place.

First thing when you walked in was a small kitchen that was trashed with wrappers. Then to the left was a miniature living room with a little flat screen tv on a cheap thrift store coffee table. On the floor were blankets. Looking to the right of the door and the kitchen there was a tiny hallway with a closet alongside  two doors leading to two small rooms next to each other. Then another closet door on the right of the hallway being the bathroom. I trudged my shoes off as I grabbed a cereal Trix bar from above the refrigerator and threw everything in my pockets on the counter, which included random receipts, change etc. The only thing not being shown out my pocket was the bus pass.

My room was dark. The air was cold and my clothes were scattered. I stood for a moment staring at my mattress on the floor. I'm a mess, a hot one. I smirked at myself. Putting my hand under the lamp shade I switch the light bulb on and closed my door, locking it.

I threw off my shirt and pants and picked up a pile with sweatpants and an old teeshirt shirt and slipped into my bed or mattress..

Grabbing my computer I put in the password lock and went into my emails.

I watched as my emails were slowly going from read to unread with other people replying. This was how jobs were taken.

See i'm apart of a group of around 160 other people scattered across 3 different countries. That is a sub group in the black market located on the deep web. Everyday we get around 10 requests from people among places all around the world for us to do dirty work to get rid of someone they don't want. All of us have our black market emails hooked up together and then from there it's first come first serve. We all get emails from people, the heading being the date and their situation. Then we pick and choose by interest. If someone takes a job they send a reply saying "Taken" and it'll show their username next to it. So we all know that it's off for grabs.

By doing this kind of work the customer or the "Bidder" as we call them, will upfront pay $120 for their request to be heard. Then we will discuss any specific details they want performed and the "Payer" or the killer will determine the price. I've heard of people getting twenty grand per person. Which is insane. But that guy did have to fly out to Japan and have all of his expenses paid.

Something like this does pay the bills even though it is in a commission kind of way. I began looking through them.

The first email read.

November 24th, Brother of two kids.

After a few seconds it was taken by a man name rezx.

Second email

November 24th, Cheating Uncle.

I Scrolled down. An word caught my eye.

November 23rd, Mafia Victim.

I clicked on the email.

Bidder description-

I am 25 years old and was apart of a human sex trafficking trade over a decade ago. Only a few years ago I broke off and got away. Looking for someone to bury my last "Owner".

Statement-

Wants trafficker dead before christmas. Lives in Atlanta Georgia (USA)

Special Requests-

>To be cremated and thrown in Slope creek.

>Prefers someone from America.

.Offer may change if that's not possible.

Offer-

Fifteen thousand USD (Can be transferred in different currencies)

Something this juicy confused me when I read that it was from yesterday and had not been taken. The special requests does state that they want someone who lives in America.  I knew too well that a lot of us here were always busy on something since some people have outside jobs besides this. 

I replied "taken" and emailed the person.