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Red Like Rubies

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  "How can you kill your own client?"

  "You'll do this for me, right?" he asks, sweat dripping on the fat of his cheeks and hands shaking with a buzz of uncertainty. A much different picture from the man he's speaking to who stands tall and still while cleaning his weapon. The calm one nods, and the fat one continues, "I'll give you a milli- no, a billion! I'll give you one billion if you take out that little bitch."

  Pausing in his ministrations the hired killer perks up minutely, which goes unnoticed by his client.

  "How dare she humiliate me - in front of all my guests! By now she's probably run off to her faithful little boy toy. Bah! Who needs an ungrateful cunt like her anyways. I would have just bought her if daddy dearest didn't care about the girl so much. She could have made this easy on herself and just accepted my advances. I even bought her a diamond ring, but she wouldn't even let me kiss her! I had to-" Just as the client's complaints and confessions reach a crescendo he feels the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

  Suddenly the dimly lit room is filled with quiet, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of the previously ranting man.

  "I don't think you understand," says the killer. His voice is smooth and clear. He's done this many times before. "The kinds of people I kill? They're just like you - selfish, greedy and unforgivable." By now his client is whimpering quietly, realizing the gravity of the situation. Little pleads and moans fall from his mouth to try and spare his life. The assassin picks up on the man offering him a trillion to spare his life. "I don't want your dirty money. You should know that by now." Tilting his head in the slightest he takes one last look at the man's back, from his balding head to his ill-fitting suit. "Disgusting."

  He pulls the trigger without hesitation.

  After his body falls to the ground, the sniveling client is finally silent. The hole in his head is as red as his obnoxious ruby ring, which the killer kneels down to take off his grubby hand. Payment, since now he obviously won't be getting any money from someone who can no longer get into their bank account.

  "Ah, what a mess." he sighs, swiping the back of his hand over his cheek to wipe away the blood splattered against it. Now he'll have to come up with a story for when he gets back to the agency. No doubt they'll want to knock him down a peg or two for breaking the rules, but he's good at his job. At the very most he'll get demoted to level B.

  "B stands for babo, right? Are you an idiot?"

  An idiot indeed.