penguinsfly03

I put the barrel of the shotgun up to the man’ face and prayed for him. His life was close to its end and I was almost sure he didn’t deserve to die. He had done no sins of great measure that he had not repented. I know this because whenever I confessed I saw him confess as well. So after I finished a prayer for him I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. I let the splatter of warm blood on my face and the recoil of the shotgun tell me when it was all over. Then I let the shaking of my hands tell me it was time to open my eyes again. I looked down at what I had done and all I could do was shake. My red rimmed eyes began to water and my lower lip started to quiver. I screamed on the inside, and this turned into an inner sobbing that leaked out. We were under a bridge in this small town and I decided all this noise had probably caught someone’s attention. So I got into my Volvo and drove off. When I got to my apartment I prayed one more time before I creeped into bed.

Confession was almost the same as always except for the lingering stench of sin that seemed to follow me to church this morning. Even in God’s house I could smell this man’s death all over my skin even though I spent all morning scrubbing at my skin violently in the shower. The father could see me through the small metal fence in the confessional. I looked him in the eyes for only a second before I covered up the fence with the wooden divider. I could not look the Father in the face knowing what I have done.

"Father, I have sinned." I could only hold back the tears for so long. After a few quick moments one and only one broke through.

"Michael you are a saint." The wooden divider had disappeared and soon the Father could openly see my shame through the metal fence.

"Don’t look at me. I killed one of God’s most loyal children even though he had done nothing unto me.” I knew from the feeling in my face that my eyes were now red around the rims. I felt my mouth open, but no words could come out. I was bathing in my shame and Father watched me in silence.

"I do not pity you Michael. I only love you as God loves all his children." I walked out of the confessional in a shameful hurry to get to my next appointment. I got into my Volvo and quickly drove off noticing that I would be late for my appointment if I didn’t pick up the pace. I was thankful that the roads in the small town I was in had nicely paved roads and was rather empty these days. The only trouble was the annoying amount of local police that lurked in every intersection. Luckily they didn’t catch me today.

I was a few minutes late. But that didn’t make much of a difference. The man I had an appointment with would be home alone for the next two hours anyways. I turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. I was nervous, and unsure of what to do. There was always doubt in my mind right before a job. There was this certain uneasiness that left me wondering why I shouldn’t just turn my car back on and drive far away, somewhere where no one would ever find me.

With all this in mind I fingered the keys in my hand and took one last deep breath before I opened the door to my car. As I stepped out the cold breeze that swept by reminded me of the gentleness of November. The scent of autumn was relaxing and mesmerizing. There was the white noise of ruffling leaves and empty tree branches scraping against each other. There was an unavoidable intoxication that came with autumn. It was too bad this moment only lasted a few seconds before I realized I was at some mans front door with my finger hovering over the doorbell.

As it gently pressed down on the doorbell my other hand reached into my jacket and grabbed a hold of my .35 semi-automatic. I could hear his foot steps as he came down his stairs. My open hand reached for the silencer in my back pocket and quickly attached it to the .35. The last moments before the man opened the door left me temporarily numb. I could no longer hear, feel, or speak. I could only see, and when the door opened and I saw his face so I shoved him deep inside his house. I followed him in and slammed the door behind me. I quickened my prayer for him and I pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times, at point blank. On the third shot my senses came flooding back and like a broken dam, all the information held back in that brief period of time rushed into my head. Leaving me stunned and exhausted.

The worst part of an appointment, no, anything in life, is the clean up. This was no exception, the clean up was almost an hour long. Being thorough was the key and it was hard for me when I was constantly shaking and breathing as heavy as I was. I couldn’t go three minutes straight without having to stand up and pace around the house for a minute or so. When all things were said and done, I had gotten away with murder. My superior cleaning job combined with some paid off cops made sure I never got caught.

There was two parts to me, the professional, and the regular. The professional did the killing and the cleaning. The regular did the shaking, the heavy breathing, and the repenting.

I went back in my car, turned on the engine, and left the house with my teeth grinding in frustration. If I had only walked away the first time, how many people’s lives would have been spared. The 16k gold crucifix in my hand felt cold and I still smelled the death of the man I had killed under the bridge.

"Forgive me." I began to think of the man’s family he had left behind. Two young daughters and a maturing boy all left fatherless. Worst of all he left his wife to fend for the family and all because of me. The crucifix bounced off the window as I chucked it in a blind fury. My attention shifted back to my driving and I noticed a small girl in the street as I was going 45 mph. The screeching of the brakes had warned the girl of my coming and let her get out of the way.

"My kitty!" The girl was crying and her face was covered in horror. My fist slammed hard against the dash. I was close to cursing, but I stopped myself and it turned into a loud wheeze through my lips. I stayed in my car until her parents came out and the father started to bang on my window with his fists yelling curses that I felt like yelling along with him. His meaty fist cracked the window and his voice pierced my ears.

"Get out of the car so I can beat your fuckin’ brains out!" I looked into his eyes and I could only mouth out sorry before I drove away. The man let me leave without much more trouble except for the golf club that smashed my rear window. Now I was off to my next victim, and my next sin.

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You gotta suit up for them all-J. Askenburg

Truth-Teller

Good premise; horrible execution.

JHB

I would say you're right, though I wouldn't put it like that....

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penguinsfly03

what do i need?

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You gotta suit up for them all-J. Askenburg

penguinsfly03

i edited the first part, i hope i get better reviews

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You gotta suit up for them all-J. Askenburg

Mac 19

Right.
MA(

omginternetlord

Apart from that it's alright. It was a bit confusing but you've got a good premise I think.

penguinsfly03

well things will be explained a bit more thoroughly in the next few installments, and i might continue to improve on the first

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You gotta suit up for them all-J. Askenburg

penguinsfly03

My apartment was cold, and the air coming through the open windows chilled my skin. My skin seemed so white under my apartment’s lights; I gave off an almost ghostly appearance. Perhaps the guilt had taken the color from my skin, or maybe it was just my European decent that caused this milky colored skin. There was nothing to contrast my skin; my hair had never grown well on my body. I stood up from the couch and slowly walked across the scratched oak floor of my apartment and found myself critiquing my appearance in my full body mirror in the bathroom. I stood there in silence trying to take myself in as a whole. Overall I saw a pale, broken down man who had so much regret built up inside of me that it had reshaped me. It had made me a sore for any eyes to look at, not that I was ugly, but because my body had given off the essence of sorrow, anger, and sin.

My hair, dark, thick, and slicked back was the darkest piece of my appearance. My eyes were the only things bright and pure about me. There were many different kinds of blue, but this was the purest, the kind of blue that made Frank Sinatra’s eyes look gray. My toned body was impressive, but average. It wasn’t anything that got awards.

I trudged back to the living room and looked at the envelope on my coffee table. The envelope beckoned me to open it and see what’s inside. I already knew what it would say, and so opening the letter become dreadful. Inside was the message I had guessed it would be. The name and address of my new appointment, then on the following pages were the more intricate details of the appointment’s lifestyle. There were carefully designed time graphs and work numbers and neighbor listings all put into an easy to remember format. I had to remember all this information and use it to decide what time was best to meet with my appointment. I spent the next few hours of my day doing this in my lonely and chilly apartment.

The morning rolled around and the sun came down on me as I lay silently on my couch. Unable to sleep another night had left me fatigued and almost unable to move. There was frustration in my eyes that kept me gripping onto the pillow I rested my head on. The night seemed endless without sleep. The sun felt warm on my face in contrast to the chill air that had filled my entire living room. In a frustrated stupor I got dressed and cleaned up. With my dark black suit and matching overcoat on I went outside.

The day was brisk, even with the sun shining through the clear sky. I touched the door of my jet black 95’ Volvo sedan before opening it. As I sat there shuffling through the seats looking for my crucifix I looked at my cracked passenger window, and felt a wave of sickness come over me. The little girls face showed up in my mind, and so did the raging fathers. The sight of his veins popping out of his skull and fists pounding on my window was still as vibrant as when it happened. The second I found my crucifix, I grabbed it and got away from the car as fast a possible.

Walking to the park was always much more of a hassle then it was to drive there. The streets would always leave you open to human interaction, and with my mental state I don’t feel like I was able to have a normal conversation with another human being. The topics all seemed meaningless, and every word they would say would come out as annoying or frustrating. Only when the Father talked did my ears want to listen. When he spoke, I could only listen and try to absorb all the knowledge I could.

The walk down was met with no awkward three second talks as people passed by, but with silence. Not even a glance was made towards me, there’s a possibility that my ghost like appearance had finally made me invisible to the naked eye. Perhaps this was for the better. Perhaps I am better of as being a ghost who no one sees.
I sat on the park bench I usually go to, unless someone else is sitting there, and watched people, animals, leaves, and everything else pass by me. My quiet trance gave me time to enjoy the autumn air I had tasted before my last appointment, but this time there were no interruptions. Until an older man had decided to sit he would sit next to me. I made a movement to leave, but his voice had stopped my movement.

“Autumn is a nice thing.” The old man said this with a sort of drawl that was raspy and quiet. His entire body fit that description, he was unshaven and a bit dirty, but he had a peaceful aura that made it enjoyable to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I was quiet and hesitant with my words, but they came out clear enough.

“Well, I don’t know what more to say about it, just that autumn is nice. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes…I think autumn is nice. Well I have to go now.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Uh…sure, fine.” I left looking forward to seeing the man the next day. When he talked I listened as intently as I did when the Father talked. Not once had this happened before today.

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You gotta suit up for them all-J. Askenburg

Adjective Ocean

Well, I read the first part and while I found it somewhat interesting, there were some things I noticed. My main problem with the piece is the strange wording of some of your sentences. For example "He had done no sins of great measure.....", yeah it makes sense, but I can't help but feel it should be reworded to give the story a smoother flow and more of a impact. That really is the biggest issue, many things need to be reworded. Other than that it was decent, but it certainly has room to grow.