Sebastian Moran. Hitman for hire, ex army colonel. Will work for a reasonable price. Best sniper in London. Email link below;
Jim Moriarty read the words on his phone screen. Best sniper in London, huh? He needed a new hitman, after his last one betrayed him. A new hitman to kill his old one. No one would betray Moriarty and live to tell how or why. No one double crossed him and got away with it, ever.
Jim typed out an email and sent it to the address, asking to meet this guy at a cafe downtown. He instantly received one back, agreeing to meet. That was quick, he thought to himself. He thought nothing of it and went back to keeping tabs on his newest target. His old hitman now had a price on his head, and Jim would stop at nothing to get that sweet revenge.
Sebastian had his sniper resting on his shoulder as he sat on top of the rooftop. He had a target, getting paid fifty grand for the murder of a government official. He fired the shot, clean through the open window and then made an escape before the police came. He tallied a quick line on his gun. forty eight lines so far.
A while later he was standing in an alleyway, getting handed fifty grand in cash. He pocketed the money and walked away, not bothering to say a word to the other man. No words were needed. They weren't friends, they were just people that had set up a deal to kill somebody. Every single deal was like this, but Sebastian preferred it that way. He liked quick and easy jobs, not working for somone for a long amount of time.
After getting discharged from the army, Sebastian realised he hadn't had enough of the chaos, murder and destruction. His hands would shake like hell, but when he held a gun that would all change. His hands would stay steady and still as he made that shot. He only felt satisfied if he'd killed somebody. He was good at it, and he didn't want to leave this kind of life behind. Maybe when he'd finally had enough of the bloodlust, he'd retire and use this money to move somewhere else. Get a house on a tiny, warm island in the middle of nowhere. But that was an issue for the future and not now.
Once it was time to meet the man who'd emailed him today, he pulled on some jeans and a dirty t-shirt. He didn't care much for his appearance, and no one who payed him was bothered by it. All people knew was his name, and how much of a good shot he was. They didn't care about who he was or what he'd done. Just his skills. They didn't tell him he drank and smoked too much. They didn't care about anything but the job. He liked that. He liked being alone.
Upon entering the cafe, he saw a short man with dark hair sat at a table. He was motioned to come over, so he assumed this was the person who needed a job done. He sat down, gaining a glare from the other man.
"My name is Jim Moriarty. I'm guessing you're Sebastian Moran?" He asked, his irish accent seeming to bounce off the walls and go into Sebastian's mind. He nodded to say yes. "And you're apparently the best sniper in London."
"That I am, Sir."
"Good. I need you to do a job. I'll pay a good price. I need you to kill my old hitman."
"Is there a catch?" Seb asked, like he did every time. It was just to make sure that he wouldn't end up being the one to get killed.
"Yes. You kill for me and in return I'll give you food, shelter and anything you need."
"What if I decline the last offers?"
"Then it's up to you, but think. If you say yes, then you'll never have to pay for rent, or food, or anything ever again. I'm a good man, Mr Moran. I stick to my word."
As much as Sebastian wants to say no, he finds himself agreeing with everything the other man says. He hates the idea of working for someone full time, but the idea of free accomodation is something he can't resist. He has enough money, but spending your money is the worst.
"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.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" Seb asked.
"Go ahead." Jim smiled. "But it's bad for you."
"Fuck it, who cares?"
"Well I'm going to care when I have to find someone to replace you. Keep that in mind, you are replaceable. If you piss me off, I will not hesitate to burn you."
"Got it." Seb muttered, lighting his cigarette. He didn't care whether he was replaceable or not. He was here to do a job. That was it. His job was to protect his new boss. How hard could that be? If he died, then what would it matter? He had no family left after what happened, no friends. All he had was his job, and if he died it damn well better be while he was working. He'd rather die with his finger on a trigger.
"Okay, so I'm going to show you to your room." Jim said. Seb nodded. "But don't get too settled in, we've got some jobs to do." Jim looked towards the box of Sebastian's things, noticing the military uniform at the top. "Put that on, sweetie. It'll bring out the blue in your eyes."
Jim flashed a smile as he walked away, leaving Seb awkward and flustered. It would bring out the blue in his eyes. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Was Jim hitting on him? Whatever it was was making him feel uncomfortable.
Sebastian put on the army uniform he hadn't worn for at least six years. It still fit him perfectly. He looked into a full body length mirror, deciding that the uniform did in fact bring out the blue in his eyes.
"Are you ready to go?" Jim's voice called out. Seb sighed and shouted a yes in response. He wasn't quite sure if he was ready for whatever Jim had planned, but he guessed if he said no something bad would happen.
"So what do you have planned?" Seb asked once he was in the car with Jim. Jim shrugged, not really giving an answer. "Great. Just fucking great. I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing, yet you know and you won't tell me."
"You'll figure it out soon." Jim mumbled, more interested in his phone than what Seb was asking about.
Sebastian did figure it out when the car was parked outside the address for Jim's old hitman. Seb made an annoyed sound, throwing his head back. "You really want me to do this now? Six hours after I met you?"
"Yeah. It shows that you'll be willing to work for me. An initiation, if you will."
"Fine. What am I supposed to do if his wife and kid are there, boss?"
"Kill them too. Can't leave any witnesses, people talk." Jim said, with no emotion at all. Seb stepped out of the car, highly pissed off about possibly having to kill another two innocent people.
He silently stalked into the dingy flat, picking the lock to the apartment this man was in. As soon as he walked in, the man was against the wall, begging Sebastian to spare his life. At least his wife and son weren't here.
"Moriarty sent you, didn't he! Tell him I'm sorry! I never meant to betray him! Please don't kill me! Tell him I'm sorry!" He begged.
"I'll tell him you're dead." Seb said quietly, pointing the sniper at him. Even though it wasn't a shot from afar, Sebastian preferred this gun. It was his favourite. And it had all his marks on it. Sebastian exhaled, pulling the trigger. The man's body fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound. Sebastian just scratched the forty ninth line into his gun, then left the apartment, not caring to look back.
Getting into the car, Jim turned to him. "Saw all that from the window. You're a cold hearted son of a bitch, aren't you?"
"Couldn't do my job otherwise, sir."
"Good. I like that. Heard it all too. I have the hole apartment bugged. The way he begged you not to kill him." Jim laughed. Seb laughed too, not really finding it funny. "His wife's gonna come back and see that, though. Poor bitch."
Sebastian said nothing, scratching a smiley face into his sniper with his nail. He still wanted to know what a consulting criminal actually was, and what Jim was actually doing. He also wondered what he was supposed to be doing. Was he just meant to kill people, or was there anything else. How many people could this man possibly want dead?
"Quite a lot, sweetie. A lot of people want me dead too." Jim smirked, and Sebastian mentally cursed himself for saying that out loud. "Are you willing to kill them? I'm sure you'll say yes, you have the heart, or should I say lack of?"
"I guess." Seb mumbled, looking up at the apartment of the man he'd just killed.
"Yes or no. I don't take 'I guess' or 'maybe' as answers."
"Then yes. I will, boss."
"Good. Welcome to your job then. Go get 'em, tiger!"
A/N- So this is my first mormor fic, not sure how it's gonna play out but there is going to be murder, blood, gore and a whole load of other stuff. And drama ofc, this is me. Hope you enjoyed.
~Azäzel