View Full Version : Message: "Good Afternoon, You are going to die."

June 25th, 2013, 02:07 PM
Business as usual

The scent was mortifying, it's pungent odor quickly brought me to my senses. How long have I been asleep? An hour perhaps. Are these jobs really becoming that boring? Even so, I can't waste time musing over the nature of my work. I need to shake off this exhaustion. It's not so overpowering that it completely dulls my senses, but it's enough for me to completely ignore the mess all about me. Of course my ambivalence could also be due to the fact that I was never the cleanliest person. Shaking my head, I slowly toss the drowsiness off of myself and begin working my muscles to evaporate my sluggish movements. I slowly open my eyes as I yawn to welcome the afternoon when, instantly, my eyes dilate to adjust to the light.

"Too fucking bright."

After a moment I remember what I was doing before drifting off to sleep and extend my hand out towards the cup. It only takes one sip for me to spit the contents out onto the table in front of me and toss the cup over the back of the sofa. Lukewarm coffee, there really is nothing more disgusting. I could stand chilled or piping hot, but that... that's just gruel waiting to be tossed out.

"Speaking of... I probably shouldn't have done that. The maids'll have enough of a time with the mess right here."

With that small musing, I stand up and pivot on my feet, pulling a match out of my pocket and casually toss it, lit, right where the coffee fell. Considering the mess, a fire's an improvement, at the very least it'll fix this disgusting smell waiving through the apartment. Unfortunately, I can't continue to muse over the sloppy nature of my own work and its byproducts, because my periphery vision informs me that I really suck at finishing my job, got no time to reflect on the way that I get it done. Sitting on the same couch that I had just gotten up from was a guy that, for all intents and purposes, should be dead. And for all intent and purposes, he most certainly wasn't.

"God, I hope we weren't spooning, that'd be rather awkward. I wonder if that's the kind of thing you go to a psychiatrist for? Maybe I should schedule an appointment later."

Sighing, I pull yet another 180, should be a 360 now right? Any way, it doesn't take me much to bring my foot down on the glass table in front of us, shattering it rather decisively.


"I'll stop you right there, no need to ask silly questions, I'm sure you can figure it out on the other side."

It's a swift motion, a sharp shard of glass punched right into his jugular. He doesn't have the time to be bewildered by the noise, or receptive of the pain from his previous wound. One strike and down he goes. Sleep really does dull the senses, I'd have noticed him breathing a lot sooner than that normally, ah well, no matter.

Calmly I brush any dust off of my gloves before putting down a mental note 'Steel pipe to the left lung is not as effective as a sliced jugular vein.' though this leads me to wonder 'What if I had stabbed the right lung instead?' Whatever the case may be, it's long since been finished and I've long since worn out my welcome, that little kitchen engulfing fire's a pretty nice excuse for leaving.

Stepping over the now shattered glass, I survey the carnage. Five dead... well six now, but who's counting. I actually can't remember what organization they're supposed to be from. They're too well dressed to be regular old street thugs, and far too Caucasian to be from the triad or yakuza. So I guess they're either Italian on Russian. Even if they're not, it's not like I'm going to take time out of my day to read their obituary. I just mark it off as a case of either or and pull the hood of my jacket over my head, no point in mulling over possibilities.


Shrill and exact, my cell rings and just like clockwork it's already in my hand. It's another text message, sometimes I wonder if these people have a direct line into my own thoughts, they probably do but it's better to leave doubt about it. Still it's uncanny how they know that I'm heading out. I put reading the contents on the backburner, it's something I can do after I've long since cleared this apartment.

I sigh and slowly leave the studio, making sure to take a mental photograph for later, I might not be able to figure out the mysteries of my job at the moment, but I can decipher it later if I put the right amount of effort into it. Thinking about it, it's a real shame, the place looked like it cost a pretty penn... red hair. My thoughts shift gears as I let my eyes trail over to the first guy I killed when I entered the apartment. I can't make out what his face is any more, a metal bat lodged into your cranium will have that kind of effect, but I know one thing, that's definitely a fiery head of hair if I ever saw one.

"Right right, Luck of the Irish."

One mystery of the world solved and a million more to go, even so for figuring it out so quickly I think a reward is in order. I bend down over the corpse and casually do a little grave robbing. Picking up the shades in his pocket I whistle in admiration 'Versace'. I confidently smile before casually putting the pair over over my eyes and strolling to the mirror in the hallway.

"These really do suit me."

I'm proud of my look now, the pair of sunglasses melding well with my messy mop of hair. I look halfway between a regular guy off the street and a thug, it'sa look I could get used, but I've no time to do that any more as i notice the flames have already engulfed half the apartment now. Wow, who thought burning flesh smelled better than the slightly rotting kind. I stick my tongue out in disgust as I amble out onto the balcony.


Even if there's ten stories between me and the ground, there's no denying that's a whole squadron of police cars.

"Yeah, I guess I was asleep for closer to three hours."

Scratching the back of my head I pull out my phone again and look over the text message again

"I'm starting to feel rather contrary about mondays. Hmm, I wonder if their coroner knows if stabbing the right lung is better than stabbing the left?"

Business as usual

June 26th, 2013, 11:23 AM
Message 1:


Good Afternoon, You are going to die. Now, I'd prefer if you'd hear this message out. It'd be rather sad if you took this as a joke and as such was ill prepared for when death comes knocking at your door. Now then, with that small disclaimer out of the way, I can begin briefing you on the details of your 'death' or more specifically your contract to avoid it. Assuming you're still reading this of course, if not,too bad, so sad, another pointless statistic to the ever rising death poll. Ah, but there's business to attend to. I can only ramble for so long

I shall be as blunt as possible. From this point onwards your contracted name is -name excluded- and you are now in the employ of-name excluded-. Your current objective is X, subsequent objects are subject to change with time and it is expected that you will be willing to complete any task assigned to you regardless of the implausibility of the specific contents. Each objective has a time limit no shorter than a day and no longer than a week, at which point, should you fail to complete your objective, you will die.Quite painfully I might add. If you do complete your mission you will be assigned a contact day and you will be compensated for your troubles, I hope monetary compensation will suffice. It'd be cumbersome to pay in specific goods or services. After all, it'd be rather awkward explaining to our accounting department why there's an order for a garbage truck worth of beets... not like such an order has ever happened before. Ah, I'm rambling again.

Back on topic. The means by which you accomplish your task is entirely up to you, you will be provided no support save for the monetary compensation paid out for your time and effort, assuming you have completed your mission.

If you've read this far, I suppose a demonstration is in order. I apologize before hand, but it's a necessity to complete the contract, insurance if you will. Please do not worry, funeral arrangements have already been allocated for them.

Anyways, please refer to the attached file for the details of your mission. I wish you the best and should you succeed, I will be in touch.

Have a wonderful afternoon <3

Note: With this message, I hope that I can properly put forth the framework of this story into the readers mind. The intro doesn't exactly explain itself, more just a random moment in the life of one of the many contracted employees of the organization. Following this post, I'll be putting effort into Chapter 1 and the introductory tale of our first contract worker.