Fan Fiction ❯ The Strengths of life ❯ Dreary days ( Chapter 1 )

Morge dried his face at the bare room, A bed, a closet, a wall with a couple weapons, and a few human shaped targets. "Okay, I'll start with throwing knives." He grabbed the three knives and threw, the first one hitting an inch away from bull's eye. "No!" He yelled, then put a cut in his hand, letting it bleed. He threw the others, and left with a cut in the palm of each hand.

He then walked into the kitchen, not much better than the room, it had one pot, a stove, a counter, and a mini refrigerator. He looked in the fridge and pulled out a steak, tore it from the package, and it. "Humph." He said, as he cracked to eggs in his mouth. "Done with breakfast." He Looked at white-erase board. "Mr. Jones. Okay…" He said walking slowly to a abandoned thrift store. He held a knife in his hands.

"Out of the shadows Mr. Derum." Morge said in a commanding tone. A small man stepped from the shadows.

"When will you come work for me?" The man said with a cobra's voice. Morge smiled. The same man who told himself to punish failure.

"You know I can't abandon my high-paying work for your pitiful drone work, now can I?" He Said, his voice like an adders.

"You would be one to say that wouldn't you? Well I need a certain man killed. Mr. Thella"

"That runt? What's the catch? Does he have a machine gun or something?" He had killed rats bigger than this guy…

" Not Norman Thella, George Thella, his son slash body guard." He laughed. He could get Norman himself. "Will 2,000 cover it."

"Should." He said taking the money and counting it carefully. "Thanks." he said, waiting for his client to leave.

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Morge sat in the boys room, on his bed. "Erg, this place hurts my nose." He said snorting. He heard a car door slam, and loud, oaf-like steps. He got ready, and the door opened. His knife flew true, and as he pulled it out he looked at the boy. "You are around sixteen, uh… were." He said, looking at the boys face. He walked out of the apartment, then down the stairs, a smug look in his eyes. Morge walked home, as it was only a mile or two away.