Eye of the Tiger//MorMor//

[01]

"I'll send a car to pick you up at six. Is that good? Bring all your things."

Sebastian walked home, enjoying the silence of being alone. He didn't know that he'd never get to enjoy being alone ever again. He liked the silence. It gave him time to think to himself. He thought about the tally on his sniper. Forty eight lines for forty eight kills. Not including the time he served in the army. It wasn't that those kills didn't mean anything, it was that he'd lost count of them. He didn't care much for them anymore, but they still meant something to him. And the kills before the army did too. He didn't like to think about those, though.

As soon as he was home, he packed his things into a box. He didn't have much. He didn't need much stuff, just his guns, cigarettes, clothes and alcohol. He had no need for anything else. He had little else to do while he waited, so he decided to have a drink.

When six finally rolled around, Sebastian was standing outside his flat. A black car pulled up and Jim rolled the window down, motioning for Sebastian to get in. As soon as Sebastian entered the car, he knew that Jim Moriarty was no ordinary man. He had a driver, a luxury car, and was hiring a permanent hitman. He clearly had a very private or high up job. Private, Sebastian settled for, going on the judgement that a high up job would probably not need a hitman.

"Sooo, Sebastian," Jim smiled. "Looking forward to your job?"

"I guess." Sebastian shrugged. Keeping up conversation was something he didn't care for much. He didn't really have a need to talk, he just wanted to do his job. He wasn't a people person at all. He thought Jim was slightly annoying, like a child almost. Sebastian despised children.

"Okay, well sorry to give you a task this early, but I need to do something about a man. He could talk, and that could destroy my job. I'll send you his details."

"Alright."

"You're not much of a talker, are you?"

"No. I like to get my job done, sir."

"That's good," Jim mumbled, typing something out on his phone. "I've sent over those details."

Sebastian checked his emails, reading the guy's name, where he worked now, and looking at the picture of the poor bastard. He had a wife and two kids, but to be a killer you have to be cold and not care about people. And the family would probably be better off without this guy, people like that just bring danger to their families. He looked like an easy kill, just another tally line on Sebastian's gun.

"Seems easy enough." Seb muttered.

"It is. I could do it, but I wouldn't wanna get my hands dirty." Jim said. "May I ask how many people you've killed?"

Sebastian didn't say a word, just pointed to the tally on his gun. Jim's eyes flickered over them, counting in fives and then the last three.

"Forty eight. Impressive."

"Thank you, sir."

The car pulled up at a giant private property. For the first time, Sebastian felt nervous. He questioned why he'd agreed to this. He didn't even know who the man he now worked for was, or what he was doing here. Why had he agreed to this?

"What exactly do you do?" Sebastian asked. Maybe if he knew it would calm his nerves.

"I'm a consulting criminal." Jim smiled.

"And I'm supposed to know what that means?"

"Nope! I made it up!"

"You can't just make up a job..."

"Oh, but I did, sweetie." He smirked, Sebastian blushing at the nickname. He was so nervous, he didn't know how to react at all. He just felt awkward.