Ficlets

Finesse Hitter

The cold of the blade resting against his leg snapped him back from his reverie. He could hear the blood slowly dripping from the point and pooling by his foot. As he checked his surroundings he started to count the bodies that were strewn around the lobby. Twelve; that was good. He remembered twelve, so he had not become lost in the killing. Just in the aftermath. He padded across the floor, avoiding the larger pools of blood, and checked that each body was indeed a body and not merely a casualty.

Satisfied that all of them were indeed dead he looked around for where he had stashed his clothes. If you are going to get bloody you may as well cover the blood up with your clean clothes afterwards; he had always thought that this had been the best piece of advice that Dellner had ever given to him. There they were, sealed in a double wrap of plastic sheeting and duct-tape behind the last pillar on the right, clear of all the blood spatter, so that he could dress without marking them. It was going to work out…

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