How I Killed God (II)

As you may have guessed by now, I'm what you can call a Contract Killer. They pay, and I navigate their desired target to an early audience with the King of Hell. Easy as that.

With another successful mission under my belt, I headed to my equivalent of the Batcave. My second-floor apartment complex — Room 202. It's discrete, comfy, close to public transport and shops. But, most importantly, it's cheap. Only $1,200 a week, and it even has an ensuite bathroom! Well, the whole apartment is a studio apartment. So I guess it can't be anything but ensuite, but still a steal compared to the houses in this area. Inflation, I swear. That's what's going to end me.

I unlocked the door, breathing in the familiar welcoming scent of dust and sadness; just like I left it.

Tossing the keys over to the key hook and plopping my bag by the entrance, I sat myself down by my laptop. Its bright white glow shone like an angel in the darkness, beckoning me over with its soft whirring sound. With no choice but to bid to its command, typing in the password, and opening myself to the world online.

However, before I could ravage my way into random short-form content, my attention was drawn to the two notification alerts sitting in the bottom right corner. One from the bank notified me that money had entered my bank account. A phenomenon that I welcome with open arms, and desire to happen more often.

The other was a new job request; an event which would in turn cause the other phenomenon to occur. Thus, today just couldn't get any better.

I opened my bank account. The mouth-watering digits of 200,000 staring back at me through the screen shook me a little as I could imagine the tears rolling down my cheeks if it were possible. Nevertheless, it was not. But still, the sentiment remained.

Opening up my next notification, I checked out my next request.

Xyn.

A single word was printed on the request form. A single word, yet so powerful. How did they find this word? Who is this person? A gushing wave of rage, curiosity and excitement all washed through my body as a wide manic grin plastered itself onto my lip. I needed to find them. I stood up from my seat and closed my eyes for a brief second.

"I found you." My target was waiting for me from the other side of this planet and they know who I am.

Within the blink of an eye, I was gone, only reappearing 50 thousand kilometres away, the fearless eyes of a man almost half my size stood staring straight back at me as if expecting my arrival.

His incredibly tangled and unwashed brown hair had entered my vision first as I slowly gazed down. His face was somewhat clean, yet the salty scent was so strong, I could taste it from where I stood, whilst the rags that wrapped around his body were a whole new experience. The sensation of wanting to gag, yet unable to due to the overwhelming information flooding in from all corners of my vision. I just didn't know where to begin. By the time I smelt the stench resonating from his clothes, my brain had already caught onto the spider spinning its new home in his hair, then by the time I registered that, the freshly formed knife wounds on his arms entered my vision, bandaged by some bloodied reeds.

"You're here." He said simply, "I thought you'd come earlier."

Taking my mind off the shock, I took a glance around the small one-room 'house'. It was very… DIY. The walls and flooring were made of some basic logs and planks, the walls tied together with strands of reed while the ceiling was held at a point by some more reeds and hope.

The makeshift kitchen counter was formed by the stump of a tree, and the small dining table was slightly better, albeit still miserable. With one relatively speaking large plank being held up by two small-sized planks on either end. The bed was a simple reed-woven mess on the ground. The festive folk music wafted in through the many cracks and gaps… everywhere, alongside the salty smell of the sea and the crying of seagulls high above.

"Where are we anyway," I frowned, stepping outside the small rundown hut to find nothing but sand and deep blue sea in all directions. A few sprouting seedlings a few short steps away, a giant hole which I presume to be the toilet judging by the horrid smell emanating from that trench, a small firepit, and a single pig tied to a fence post which snorted back at me.

"Ewh." I grimaced, "I guess I've seen it all now,"

"Sir Xyn?" His voice cut out my thoughts as I spun around, grabbing his neck in my hand as I raised him up.

"So, how do you know that name, hm?" I eyed him down. They say that you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes and from what I gathered in my little staring experiment, I could tell he was scared, terrified and panicking. Three emotions that I've always loved seeing in these little humans.

"Ah," I quickly put him back down as his face almost turned purple, I lightly patted his shoulder to much regret, "Explain."

He let out a few violent coughs as he rubbed his neck. "I- kah- I'll do it. I'll explain once we sign a contract." He stared me straight in the eye like a frightened cat attempting to assert dominance again.

I squinted my eyes. So he knows about the contracts as well, a secret that I don't just blurt out to random strangers on the streets, "Alright then. As the contract dictates, I'll kill someone for you. In exchange, you'll tell me where your knowledge comes from,"

He nodded, "When the contract is under effect, the two parties of the contract will be unable to harm each other."

"Indeed. Since you know so much. There's no need for me to go through my spiel. What is your name?"

"Noah, and what should I call you then?" He asked back.

I let out a smile as I clicked my fingers, and the binding contract scroll sparked into existence, "Just call me, Roan."