XIII – Wrecked Hymn And A Dream
The Amateur has not time to waste, the ranks of the assassins must be wiped clean. He looked for novelty places to go, places with a definite theme, places where murderers apparently congregate. His eye chanced upon a hippy party in California. Nature-themed decor, masks of the woodland creatures, hosted by an rich yet sinister eccentric. Perfect.
He waited at a bar inside a hollowed-out treestump, sipping teak mead and looking for the hired killer that would obviously approach him and ask him to come to a secluded room, or run to a position where they could be grenaded. He was not looking hard enough.
So, here you are, “47”
How many times, that’s not my…where is here?
I wish I could be sure
The hell sort of answer is that?
Well we appear to be dead
What?! Who are you? Who’s we?
I am you, you are me. We are….were…amateur
That’s The Amateur to you, buddy.
Hang on, if I’m dead, what is this?
Possibly some kind of Limbo party
That was a low blow
Who knows how low I can go
I hate you
I thought this was what you wanted, though
We are…were…an assassin. A killer. You had sworn to destroy us
But I’m the good guy!
Look back. You’ve killed more than any of your “targets”. This is the most efficient approach to your objective
You’re beginning to sound like a twisted sort of conscience
That is one way of putting it. I am your professional conscience
Oh come on. That’s not a thing.
You were becoming less focussed on the extravagant killing
You were becoming more focussed on your objectives
You were becoming a Professional
The hell I am!
Your death is your objective. Accomplish it
The Amateur knows that every person he meets is an opportunity for new and interesting deaths.
The Amateur is NOT dead.