Chapter One- Shorts and Crocs

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!Warning!: This chapter contains violence.

"Marco, stats on the target". Nothing, no reply. Considering the stakes of my mission, most people would be freaking out that their partner wasn't responding.

But me? I've known Marco for years, he was like a brother to me, I knew exactly what he was so preoccupied with. That son of a bi- breathe Alexis, breathe. Don't let that idiot get to you, you know incompetent he is, JUST BREATHE.

"Marco! Quit playing that stupid game and tell me the fucking stats of the target." I half whispered half shouted. A grumpy and irritated voice came through my earpiece "Jeezus Alexis! You nearly made me piss my pants."

"STATS. NOW. I hissed menacingly."  "Ok, ok. Calm down woman. Jeez, who pissed in your CoCo Puffs?"

I rolled my eyes as Marco filled me in, "The target has light brown hair and a light complexion. He is wearing a black polo shirt, Bermuda shorts and CROCS?! Who the hell wears those anymore?"

A/N: No hate on anyone who does, they're pretty comfy.

"FOCUS!" I yelled, gritting my teeth.

God, why the hell is he such a moron. "You know it wouldn't hurt for you to be nice sometimes." Marco complained like a child. "What I'm going to do to you if you don't tell me the fucking stats of the target is going to hurt a lot more. So STATS NOW!" I quipped harshly.

"Yeah right, like you would touch a hair on my Head on my precious little head because you're my BEST FRIEND." He cooed in a baby-like voice that made me want to take my revolver and stuff it up where the sun doesn't shine. "STATSSSSSS!" I yelled not bothering to whisper anymore.

"Fine, don't need to get your panties in a twist. The victim is currently headed towards his room, the private on the top level. He has only a couple of guards protecting him, should be a piece of cake for you BEST FRIEND!" He said stressing on the last two words just to get on my nerves.

Why am I still friends with him?

Ignoring Marco, I was currently stuck in a tight space, wedged between a expensive looking BMW, not as expensive as my 'Ford Shelby Mustang GT 500' and a wall in the carpark of this prestigious hotel also known as 'Lucky Stars'. What a cringe worthy name.

A/N: Hey! I tried.

Just as I was about to leave my tiny hiding spot, a tall dark figure loomed overhead. Shit. Dead man, I mean woman. I gripped onto my revolver tightly and counted mentally. Shit's bout' to go down...

PAUSE.

HOLD YOUR HORSES, WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR A BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT.

Well that seems like the perfect moment to just pause for a split second for a quick introduction. Hi, my name is Alexis Riley and I'm 19 years old. Few know my real name, I mostly go by the name Femme Fatale and if you haven't figured out yet, I'm an assassin.

I work for one of the largest assassin companies, the Federation Of Assassins or 'F.O.A' and I am proud to say that I am the strongest and youngest female assassin in the company. I don't really have much other than my job in my life so my only goal in life is the same as everyone else's... don't die.

And so far, I am an overachiever in that area because I have a 100% success rate.

Wait, never mind lets say 92%, I've almost died that one time when I nearly rode my car off the edge of a cliff trying to catch one of my targets, Valento, what a pain in the ass he was.

Anyways, so you might ask WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING AND WHY?

Heheh you'll see, but I am just gonna say if you're easily grossed out and have a weak you might wanna click away from this story. Because a lot of uncensored violence is about to happen and real fucking soon for that matter.

Anyways, back to the story...

I lifted my head slowly like one of those dramatic, slo-mo movements in my favourite movie " The Matrix: Reloaded" That was such a great movie, anybody else liked the movie starring Arnold Schwarzenegger? Damn it, I'm talking to myself again, man I'm a psycho.

Anyways, when I lifted my head all I saw was some man who I didn't know. He had black hair neatly combed back, his towering figure wore a business suit and something in his face just screamed "PUNCH ME!"

He looked down at me in disdain and proceeded to ask sarcastically "Do you always hide behind cars that you would never be able to affo-"

His sentence was cut short as his arrogance immediately turned to fear when he notice the loaded revolver in my hand.

I nearly let out a laugh seeing the change in his emotions going from 'I'm so rich hardy ha ha' to 'Shit, what the hell have I done. I'm so dead' Well, I mean I could have killed him right there and then, but that would be a waste of my time, effort and ammo.

So as funny as this was, I couldn't blow my cover. I stood up slowly, watching the colour in his face drain, I balled up my fist and gave him the good ol' knuckle sandwich.

I whispered, " Nighty night Mr Douche," just before he crumpled to the floor in a heap.

Damn, I am so strong I surprise myself, did you see that hit? It was flawless, perfection, incredible.

Ok, enough boasting, I have to fix this mess.

Then, I proceeded to take press the tiny button on my watch, releasing a small puff of brownish smoke over Mr Douche's face. That small amount of smoke would erase his memory for the last half an hour, so that should be more than enough.

I chuckled to myself, well now you won't even remember the girl who was squatting next to your almighty car I thought.

What, did you think I was going to kill him? I'm not heartless, I think. That's as much as I can give you, don't judge a girl on a mission, I do what I gotta do.

Anywho, off I go finding the victim also known as Mr Smith, this hotel's owner and millionaire of Smith Industries, heheheh no sweat off my sack amirite? This is going to be a walk in the park, except the park is on fire and everything is on fire, because it isn't a park, it's hell.

Ok stop it brain, youre not helping. I rolled my eyes. God, I annoy myself, not that I would ever tell Marco that.

I took Mr Douche's car keys and opened his car door, lifting him up and placing him in his car seat. Then, I may or may not have taken his wallet, I could have taken his car, but I didn't, so don't judge me. A girl has got to get paid one way another.

Ok, that was a complete and utter lie. The company I worked for was definitely paying me a shit load of cash to do this job. But I didnt like this guy's face, so I took his wallet.

Ha, try being sassy with me again Mr Douche and see what happens. Not that he would ever remember me.

Brushing off my black leather pants, black jacket and black crop top, what, sue me for liking the colour black. "Marco disable the lift lobby CCTV cameras." I commanded as I stood up making sure there was no one around before I tucked my revolver into the hoop in my black leather belt.

I crept slowly to the lift lobby. "Ding!" The lift doors opened and I stepped in lets just say things that are not so kid friendly are about to happen real soon, lets just put it that way and leave it at that.

End of Chapter 1

Published on 30/9/19

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