by Peter Fang
The door to the master bathroom was ajar; the mist from the running shower bellowed ghostly out of the opening. Blair slowly walked into the bathroom and located the shower stall, but no one was in it. His instinct told him that this was a set-up and someone was right behind him. He swiftly shifted sideways and rolled to the side while aiming his gun at a target behind him—nothing.
“Shit!” Maria must have somehow got the tip from Ansen and found a way to hide downstairs, waiting for him to go upstairs before making a run for it. Blair ran outside the bedroom and stood on the top of the landing spot but did not see anything unusual.
Did Ansen make a quick getaway with Maria? If he did, then he fooled everyone. Blair was about to swear when he heard an unmistakable cough coming from the bathroom. He spun around and aimed the gun at the sound’s source. Blair crept back into the mist-filled bathroom and made a quick jerking motion left and right to search for any moving target. He then heard another cough, and it was coming from the master bathroom’s walk-in closet. Blair moved in quickly and pushed the door open. What he saw completely froze him. It was Maria, unconscious on the ground, but a giant spider was lying next to her pale face. Her right hand was holding a six-inch chef’s knife, and she had already gone into rigor mortis. Looks like this poisonous spider got to her first? Shit, either way I am going to get paid. Blair aimed his gun at Maria’s head and was ready to pull the trigger, but the spider’s legs twitched.
“What the—?” Blair steadied his aim at the spider and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced through the spider and shattered the body into pieces. Maria suddenly leaped up with a scream. The scream startled Blair, and he involuntarily fired again. The silencer made a whistle and missed Maria by inches. Blair made contact with Maria’s eyes. Those eyes––Blair would never forget the look. Almost in slow motion, he saw Maria’s knife come straight for his face. He pulled back and leaned to the left. The knife missed his face, but it sliced his neck. With a dull thud, the knife hit the wall, and half of the blade sank into the closet wall.
Maria pulled the knife out with a sweeping motion to the right, trying to cut Blair’s neck again.
Blair used the side of his skull to protect his neck, and the knife cut across the right side of his head. The blade made a deep cut on his skull.
“Shit!” He looked up and saw Maria lunging at him.
She pinned Blair on the ground and tried to stab him with the knife, but there was a muffled impact that knocked Maria’s body backward. Maria’s eyes widened, and her body convulsed. She looked down at a hole in her chest, her eyes in shock. The gun went off again, then again, hitting Maria twice in the heart. She collapsed to the ground and rolled to her side. Her eyes opened, looking off into the distance.
“Crazy bitch!” Blair could not believe that Maria attacked him with a knife. Most of his victims were too scared to move in their last moments. A few may throw things at him, but never someone so adept with a knife. He underestimated his target, and now he was injured. Blood was coming down on the side of his face and neck. He went to the closet to grab a small towel, pressing it hard against the wounds to staunch the bleeding. He took out his phone, powered it on, and dialed a number. The phone rang twice and someone picked it up.
“Hey, where are you right now? I need you to swing your car to the back of the apartment ASAP…it’s done…wait for me near that place, make sure there’s no one around. Block the entrance and the exit so no one can come across. Where are you? Why the fuck are you that far away? Get here as soon as you can.” He hung up the phone and then sent out a secure text to Mr. Reed to let him know he finished the job. That was when he saw a text from Mr. Reed’s associate that the job on Ansen had failed.
“Are you kidding me? They had three guys—no, four, with the driver—and they couldn’t handle one Ansen?” He shook his head in disgust. He went to the mirror to see how deep the cut was; luckily, it missed his artery. Nevertheless, it was still oozing with blood, and more blood was coming down from his scalp. He went downstairs and looked frantically for something to close the wound. After going through all the drawers in their small study room, he found a roll of duct tape. He washed his hands in the sink and put a long strip of tape around his neck. As he moved his neck, he noticed a shadow near his peripheral vision. He pretended he did not see the shadow and continued to rip the tape. Then he tried to creep closer to the gun on the counter, but the voice spoke.
“Don’t even try. Turn—” Ansen's haggard voice could not finish the sentence.
Blair dropped the tape and let his hands hang. He quietly released a small throwing knife that was hidden inside his sleeve. The butt of the knife hit his palm and he held it between his fingers.
“Get your hands up where I can see them.”
“Come on––what are you going to do now? Call the police?” Blair asked with a hint of humor in his voice. “This was not my plan. I’m just an executioner––you know the deal.”
“The deal did not include taking me out!”
“Doesn't matter anymore. The job is done, and you are too late.” Blair turned around slowly with his hands up in the air. “Do you want to know what she said to me before I pulled the trigger?”
Ansen stared at him; he was about to pull the trigger but hesitated. He knew it was more of a delay tactic from Blair, but he needed to know if Maria did say something.
Blair smiled. “She said, ‘watch for the blade.’”
“What?” Before Ansen realized that was just a distraction, he saw the blur of a blade tumbling in his direction. He fired a round at Blair but missed, and Blair quickly went for cover behind the counter and grabbed his Glock. The neck pain affected his concentration, and the sudden jarring movement opened up the wound again. Blair could feel the blood starting to crawl down his neck, but he could not attend to that just yet. He had to clean this up, or more shit was going to hit the fan. In the back of his head, he still could not believe that the four guys in the van could not take care of Ansen. Carelessness would only get you killed. Come on, focus! Blair took some deep breaths and brought back his focus. He looked over the counter but could not see where Ansen was.
“Hey, Ansen, this whole thing was Mr. Reed’s idea. I am just a pawn like you, doing my job. I had nothing to do with the rest of it. What do you say that you let me go, so you can take it up with Mr. Reed yourself?” Blair took out his cell phone and texted Riker, asking him to send in more men. But before he could send the text, he heard a round of bullets coming his way. The unmistakable silencer made the bullets whistle as they exited the barrel. One bullet penetrated the counter where Blair was hiding and missed him by mere inches. Blair noticed the direction the bullet came from and estimated Ansen's approximate location. He snuck out around the corner of the counter and lay low, trying to see where Ansen was. There, Ansen's legs––hiding behind a large, leather couch. His feet were exposed and he could see from the angle that Ansen was trying to reposition himself to try to flank him. Blair aimed his laser guide in Ansen's direction and pointed the red dot at Ansen's feet.
Ansen noticed the red dot on his feet.
Blair spread a column of bullets in Ansen's direction; the red dot followed Ansen as he rolled away.
Ansen held out both guns and unloaded in Blair’s direction. Bullets splintered a wooden post and cracked the granite counter, sending up a cloud of debris.
Blair anticipated Ansen’s move and ducked behind a table as the bullets missed around him. “You are wasting your time, Ansen. Let’s call it a truce, huh? What do you say?” Blair stopped and checked himself. His right hand was covered in drying blood, gummy to the touch. He also noticed bloodstains on the ground. He shook his head––this was not how he envisioned the plan would play out.
Ansen felt a burning sensation coming from his legs. He looked down and saw two crimson rings––one on his leg and the other around his waist. Ansen was having problems breathing, and with every breath a paralyzing pain took hold of his torso. Suddenly h
e felt cold and he saw white speckled stars in his vision. He propped himself against the wall for support, his breathing ragged.
Blair yelled behind the table, “Look who’s here? I got help near the front door.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
Ansen looked out to his left at the door, then realized that it was a diversion. He aimed the handgun and saw Blair also pointing the gun at him. Ansen pulled the trigger and fired several runs, but the aim was off. Then he felt something small hitting his chest like a sledgehammer. The bullet hit Ansen in the chest and he fell to the ground. Ansen struggled to get up, but the weight of the pain was too much to overcome. Every fiber in his body was on fire as the blood started to pour out of the bullet hole.
“Game over, Ansen.” Blair got up from his crouching spot and aimed with his laser sight on Ansen's forehead. Blair hesitated, then eased off on the trigger. He took the two pistols away from Ansen and went to the front door to let the helpers in. Two men walked into the living room; the smaller man took out an Uzi from his leather jacket and the other man, towering over the other by a head, emerged with a sawed-off shotgun. Blair pointed his gun upstairs. “Go get the girl’s body upstairs.”
“Mr. Reed said he wants Ansen dead,” the smaller man with the Uzi reminded Blair.
“He is as good as dead,” Blair said in a nonchalant way. “By the way, you two can put your weapons away. There is no-one left in the apartment.”
The big man unloaded a large duffel bag on the ground and took out a sheet of plastic. He then took out some cutting saws and laid them on the ground. He looked up at Blair and saw him holding his bleeding neck and the blood-soaked head. “Ansen did this to you?”
Blair glared back at the man, “No, the bitch.” He walked over to the kitchen sink to rinse off as much blood from his face as he could, then found some bleach under the counter and poured a healthy amount into the sink and turned the faucet on. “By the way, there is a large spider upstairs that I killed, so watch your step in the closet.”
The big man turned and looked at Blair with concern in his eyes. “Spider? I’ll blow it away if it gets near me.”
Blair thought about the noise he had made during the struggle, so he asked, “Did you see anyone outside the apartment when you came in? Someone may have alarmed the cops. I don’t think you have time to chop them up. Just grab them in a bag and get outta here.”
The big man looked at Blair and shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything from outside. There’s a spotter outside for us. Don’t worry; we know what we are doing.”
“Spotter? You mean Riker?”
“Yeah, him.”
Blair rolled his eyes. “Send my blessings to Mr. Reed. I got some stitching job to do with my face. Make sure you clean up my blood stains on the floor.”
The big man dismissed Blair with a wave of his hand. “It will be spotless. Get outta here.”
Blair walked over to Ansen and found his blade––sticking out almost perfectly vertical against the wall. He looked down at Ansen next to his foot and saw him still breathing, but unconscious. Blair felt a tinge of sympathy for Ansen and Maria. Ansen's face somehow reminded him of himself, long ago.
It’s time to retire. His mentor once told him that he would know the right time to quit. This is that moment. With that, Blair disappeared beyond the front door.
“Hey, you are not doing that downstairs, idiot! Bring him upstairs and into the bathtub. We got only an hour,” the smaller man on top of the stairs ordered the large guy below. “I hate these green guys,” he swore under his breath.
The smaller man on the second floor took his phone out and texted Riker. We are on time. I expect to get everything wrapped up in an hour.
Riker texted back: Let me know when you are about done. Call me if you need anything. I can come up to help.
The smaller man snorted at the text. “Yeah, sure you will.” He knew Riker’s type—always giving orders and never doing the actual work; deep down at the core, nothing but an insecure little man. He deleted his text and looked at the large guy downstairs again, waving him to bring Ansen's body up.
The large man downstairs responded with a dismissive wave. “Yes, I’m coming! Shit, George––this dude is heavier than you'd think…”
George rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Pablo—” George was about to say something to Pablo but decided not to and walked into the master bedroom.
Pablo stood over Ansen and wondered if the target was indeed dead. He took off his glove and checked his pulse and felt one, faintly, but Ansen’s face was pale as a ghost. Is he dead? Better shoot him to be sure. Fuck, don’t have the silencer with me. He leaned in to grab Ansen but stopped when he heard a loud thud upstairs. He took his gun out and pointed at the bedroom entrance upstairs. He waited for more sounds, but nothing. He let go of Ansen and walked upstairs into the bedroom. As he got closer to the bedroom, he heard the thrashing sound coming from the master bath. He poked his head into the bathroom and saw George leaning over the bathtub, legs kicking. His tool bag lay next to him, undisturbed.
There was a wet, slurping sound.
“You are a sick man. You’d better not be doing what I think you are doing…” Pablo looked inside the bathtub.
He froze.
Maria’s body was in the bathtub, all right, but only the lower half was still anything resembling a human. The upper half was something he didn’t know how to even describe. The woman’s mouth was wide open, like a serpent devouring an egg. Her entire mouth was over George’s face, and it was sucking out blood and liquid from his eyes. Some tentacles looked like insect legs wrapping around George’s neck. Several tube-like needles were stuck into his throat, and the creature was sucking something out of the body with every breath it took. The monster turned and locked eyes with Pablo. It reached out its tentacles toward him.
Pablo stumbled away from the tub. He raised his gun and started shooting, but his hands were shaking so violently that he could not even aim straight. He dropped his weapon, turned, and ran out of the master bedroom, but a shadow reached out and hooked his neck and ripped his throat almost in half. In his last few seconds of consciousness, Pablo saw a human figure looking down at him; the figure unhinged its jaws and out came a swarm of tentacles. The swarm rushed into Pablo’s throat wound. Time slowed down, and he couldn’t believe what was happening to him. Thoughts of disbelief drowned out his fears—This can’t be real, it can’t be. His thoughts were drowned out by the grinding noise of hundreds of teeth scraping inside his skull.
After Koda slurped up what he needed from Pablo, he lifted the corpse into the master bath.
He saw Maria standing there in her human form. “Sorry I’m late. I thought the queen was going to let you go?”
Maria took a deep breath and said, “Queen decided that she wants me alive. There’s no turning back now.” She offered a pitiful smile. “I got a sample of that assassin’s blood in my mouth. Queen said she needs it to find the remaining boxes.”
Koda reached out to Maria with his free hand. “Come, we need to pay a visit to your neighbor down the hall. I couldn’t really read her from here. Who knows what else she has cooking in her apartment?”
Maria pointed at Ansen's limp body. “I can’t leave him here.”
Koda tilted his head and said, “The queen wants to leave this one up to you, but make it quick because Riker is still out there lurking in the back alley.”
Maria’s eyes widened, but then she walked over to the cleaner’s body and took out a cell phone. She texted something and then threw it on the corpse. “Let’s bring Ansen with us. I can’t leave him here.”
Koda looked at Maria wearily. “You sure?”
Maria nodded silently.
Koda sighed. He leaned over and carefully picked up Ansen’s body. “Queen likes you, doesn’t she? You are as stubborn as she is.”
Maria walked out of the bathroom, holding the golden box in her arms.
Koda leaned over to
the bathtub, opened his mouth, and released a dozen giant beetles. He chuckled, “The cleaners getting cleaned—what irony.”
The giant beetles used their large, antler-like pincers to cut through clothes, and then they eagerly chewed through the flesh like a swarm of hungry maggots. Each giant beetle soon gave birth to half-dozen more, and the cycle repeated itself until there were thousands of tiny beetles brimming around the corpse. The mass of beetles started to build until it became an ink-black blanket of feeding frenzied chatters gnawing away at everything in their path. The feeding frenzy continued as Koda gave one last look at the trembling and heaving mass of beetles. A cold smile flitted across his face. He knew that when the beetles would clean everything, there wouldn’t be anything left. Koda really wanted to throw Ansen into that pile of beetles, but that was not what Maria wanted, and now she was in charge.
“Where should we drop off Ansen?”
Maria said, “Put a worm in him and let him go check into the hospital. He’s not going to live long.”
“If you fancy him so much, why not turn him into––”
“No! As bad as he seems, I appreciate what he did for me. Let him die in peace, and fate will decide who will claim his soul.”
“Where to next? Wait—Gretchen?” asked Koda.
Maria nodded. “Yes, she is a threat. The queen wants to visit Gretchen personally with a proxy.”
“Proxy?”
“She could spend energy to take over a host’s body, but she can’t do that without all the boxes. However, if she is near me, she can borrow my energy to do so.”