RIP

I let out a low gruff as I sat down in the worn, wooden chair set near the window of my cabin. My calloused hand ran over the plain envelope that came this morning, no doubt another reply to my offer. I had over 20 replies already and all have been...underwhelming to say the least.

Expecting no different from this new contender, I proceeded to open the letter with the hunting knife I always kept near my side. Sliding out the rough paper with my forefingers, I proceeded to unfold and read the letter. It began as they all did.

Dear sir,

I am here to reply for your request of, shall we say, a special set of skills.

I rolled my eyes. Why does everyone describe assassination as "a special set of skills." They all act as if this was some game or a James Bond movie. I sighed, rubbing my weary eyes as I turn back to the letter. Good assassins were hard to find these days.

It is my understanding that the target you require to be dealt with is a secluded individual that does not take to public events quite often, making them more difficult to isolate and be disposed of. I assure you that I not only am a skilled assassin, but a skilled tracker as well, so hunting them down should not be a problem. After all, I was able to find you, wasn't I?

My eyes froze on the page as every one of my senses became heightened. I slowed my breath, listening, searching. Slowly, the joints of the chair underneath me groaning, I turned in my seat to look out of my office window. There, in a tree no more than 200 feet away, was a woman pressed against a branch with what appeared to be a .22 Hornet by the looks of elongated barrel. I felt my pulse quicken as she turned on her laser scope and motioned for me to keep reading.

I am approximately 235 feet away from the South East window of your cabin with what I am assuming will be around a 19-24mph breeze outside considering the time of year and your location in the mountains. I can assure you that I have confirmed kills from further distances under harsher circumstances, so this at the moment is simply child's play.

My fingers tensed on the edges of the page as I continued to read. It was one thing to threaten my life, I have had that happen a many of times. It is another, however, to toi with me; to act as if taking my life is as simple as plucking a daisy from the earth.

I feel that this effectively demonstrates that I am up to the task to find your designated target, as you have gone to great lengths to keep yourself tucked away from the world. I must commend you, as you have been one of my harder subjects to find.

A let out a harsh laugh. As if inflating my ego is going to give me any peace with the fact that I may soon be dead.

Considering that you soon will be dead, I am sure you have figured out by now that I will require no payment of any kind. If I do need any materials, I am sure that your soon-to-be vacant cabin will supply me with any thing I may need.

My anger only grew as I continued to read. This was no assassin, no that title was earned. This was a killer. They killed just for the thrill of it all, taking whatever they please from whom ever they wish. A sense of dread and relief filled me as my eyes shifted down and I saw that there was only one more paragraph.

I hope this letter allows you to rest comfortably in, well, whatever comes next for you. I can assure you that your wishes will be carried out and that they will be my next objective. Thank you for this opportunity of work.

Rest In Peace,

Mara King

I kept my gaze forward as I slowly lowered the paper to the table that I have had breakfast, lunch, and dinner at for so many years. I didn't doubt that this Mara King would keep her word and go after my enemy next. I didn't doubt that they would be dead by tomorrow night. And I didn't doubt that that was her safety clicking off as I closed my eyes waiting for the inevitable to happen.