by: S. Schumaker
Standard Disclaimers Apply
A group of highway cleaners discovered an unidentified body near Highway 51 Tuesday. It is said that the body had probably only been there a few hours before the crew found it. No one has reported a missing person's description of John Doe at this time. Police are investigating the crime until further notice. If you have any information regarding this murder, please contact the Tokyo Police Station.
The young man, whom no one recognized, sat at the back of a dark, crowded bar. He was sipping on a small glass filled with Bourbon. His eyes were dark; his hair a dirty blond. He was alone. His fingers traced over the short article in the newspaper, hidden away between the funnies and the TV guide. He had read it so many times that he had it practically memorized. His mind replayed that same night, over and over. Remembering every detail of it, seeing everything so clearly, almost like it was happening before him in a play. He remembered glancing over his contract, his deal. He remembered dressing in the dark colored clothes, the dark suit, the dark tie. He remembered it all, and he was proud of his work.
The one thing he could never remember was how he got himself in this business. How he had been chosen to end lives. Kill. He enjoyed his work, and god knows he was good at it. He was one of the most popular assassins alive. And he knew it. After his assassination of a famous Japanese political icon, he became hugely popular. People in the streets were talking about this unknown killer; others were contacting him for jobs. It seemed that he would never get a break. Except at times like this. He always took a night off after a job. No matter where in the world he was, he always stopped at a bar to drink a glass of bourbon for his deeds. He needed that release. He needed to show his victim that he respected them. They deserved his respect even though he felt he himself did not truly deserve it.
As he downed the last of his drink, he pushed the glass aside. He took in a breath as he reached for the manila envelope at his side. There was no writing on it anywhere. No name. No address. Blank. He flipped it open, letting the contents fall onto the table in front of him. He began searching through the items he was given. His new employers name: Jean-Pierre Noire. French. He hated the French. Loved the language. As his eyes continued scanning through the paperwork, he noticed the sum of money he would be given after completely his job. 13,000,000,000 yen. He nearly choked. He had never been offered an amount of money so large. Something was fishy about this case.
He collected his things and went on his way. Once in his silver Ford Mustang, he scanned at the enclosed picture of his next victim. It was a female. He looked over the picture that he received of her. She was gorgeous. Long flowing brown hair, deep brown eyes to match. He knew that face. He just couldn't seem to place it. He looked down at her name and gulped. Now he knew where he recognized her. He stared down at his first love. At the first person that truly touched his heart. His sweetheart from 10 years prior. Kurata Sana.
To Be Continued…
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13,000,000,000 Japanese yen would be equivalent to about 111,779,814 US dollars.