Sinister Light - Fantasy // Line

"I gave up everything. EVERYTHING!"
-Takuto Maruki (Persona 5 Royal)

There was something calming about killing people at Twilight's light. Not that anyone ever realized that the dead were really dead by the time I had my hands on them.
A fine show of where I've brought myself in my line of work.
In an underground network full of crooks and sketchy men, I like to believe the name Patrick Walsh has power. Just below Gyle Winfreed, a terrifying ex-assassin, and just above the likes of Thanos Venge, a hacker from Eastbrick. Not that I believe he was any more of a threat to the criminal underworld than Gyle these days.
My hands reached for my phone, already anticipating that the client was calling. I can never really comprehend how the clients seem to call just after I finish someone off. Was it intuition? Or was it impatience?
"It's done." I say to my current client.
Quentin Leed. A young intern for one of those sketchy multi-million companies. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and he just couldn't keep his mouth shut.
I try not to get attached to my clients details. It makes it so much easier to snuff a life out.
No hard feelings Quentin. I like to survive.
Killing him wasn't nearly as fun as I anticipated. I heard he had a black belt in Judo. But then again, I'm more of a pragmatist. There are no rules in my type of engagement. I will kill without any hesitation and with any resource I have.
I waited for him to do his daily jog. His route was stupid enough to bring him to the woods. And there, I slit his throat and buried him in a 10 foot hole and filled it with concrete.
At the end of the day, I get to come home with a fat envelope and I can continue paying for Netflix and buying whatever the hell I want.
It makes me wonder why people like Gyle would leave. I hear it was for love, but I don't believe in that bullshit.
Justice and morals are useless. Justice is hard to believe in in this world where corruption lives on even in the lives of the simple men of simple lives.
Look at Thanos Venge. He lives on revenge, his way of justice, but he's just one person. And its not like he's doing it for free.
And years ago, there was this woman I respected. Her ability was like no other. Though I nor anyone can quite remember her name. Just the initials E.R.
I heard she lived as she died, standing by her beliefs that stood within that grey line of morality.
Peers often ask me what I live for.
Honestly, I can kill anyone in a heartbeat and that's the only question that stops me.
Its kept me up at night sometimes.
I took life so easy, but I can't justify mine.
What did I live for?
At this point, nothing really.

//

In my off days away from my usual grind, I liked to take up a thousand hobbies to try and replicate the feeling of accomplishment that I used to feel when I did a job successfully.
Away from the occasional fighters, my job has been boringly easy.
And I've lost any form of excitement.
But honestly, nothing evokes a sensation. Video games are exciting for a few hours before they get predictable. Sports become way too repetitive. And I've dabbled in some degree of literature. Nothing too interesting to keep me going.
Cooking was an essential skill I needed to learn at a young age. Though there has been a blur in my memories regarding my past.
Like a block that took away what I once was.
The only bits and pieces I have of what I was in my youth was some faces I knew, certain skills that could keep me alive, and a dark patch where I remember a teenager blocking me from another man. My family I assume.
That teenager's face was so obscure that I never could quite replicate it in drawing, another skill I had. I used to look for him. But I've long since gave up. There was no point in trying to look for someone who could be gone.
If you ask me what my earliest memories were, I'd outright lie to you.
I'm a freelance killer, not a hired friend. I won't tell you anything about myself because anyone, a friend, a lover, a client, can become a target. And I've been hardened enough to not keep many attachments close. Makes it easier to kill someone when they tell you "You were my friend".
But... if by some rare chance I did value you enough to keep you off my little black book, I will admit to you that the last real memory I can think of is actually starting my training from the first person I could never kill. My instructor, whose name has already been erased from society so he too can live a normal life, watched over me and left me to believe he was the only family I had left.

//

"Oh, Pat. Come for the usual?" This was Christine Mackenzie. A young girl who operates the cafe right across my apartment. She likes me for some strange reason. I won't lie, I like the view. But I'm not nearly as horny as 98 percent of the white male populace nor am I looking to date so I'm just here for the coffee. 
I give her a polite nod and take out the prepared 5 dollars in my pocket. tt's 2.50 for Cloudy Day Cafe's average cup of coffee. But it's common courtesy to leave a tip so I just hand it to her and she doesn't give me the change anymore after I continued to insist on her keeping it.
"You know, I'm just gonna say it straight out." She suddenly says. "You've been coming to this cafe for so long and only during my shift."
It's not like it was my fault I wanted coffee in the morning nor am I god to put you in the same crappy 7 A.M shift you're on.
She gives one of those silly half smiles she likes to give to the customers. "How long is it gonna take you to ask me out on a date yet?"
Spunky. I thought. I usually do something for girls to want me whenever I need something from them.
I don't think buying coffee regularly should mean I'm actually trying.
Was I really that hot?
"You're joking right? Christine, you don't even know me. For all you know, I could be some psychotic killer."
Psychotic's a strong word, but you get the point.
The semi-rude tone doesn't stop her. Her smile now a full on beam. "Then let me get to know you. I want to take a peak into that brain of yours."
No thank you. I doubt you'd be able to handle what's in my grey matter.
Should I start looking for another cafe? Ah, but the average cafes here in Northbrick, Colorado stray too far from each other to give each one located in each sector of the city a fair shot. I'm not about to drive to the Starbucks in Lindholm Street for that.
Or I could say no thank you. Polite rejection should stop anyone.
"Sorry but maybe I'll pass." I say. She doesn't lower her cheeky smile. "It's just, you have to understand that I don't really know you. You can't seriously just make me go out with someone I hardly know."
She laughs. "You sound like a girl. But I understand the logic. If only other men knew how to act like that."
Insult aside, I guess it worked.
She hands the coffee to me but suddenly backs it up. "Or, we can start by being friends."
Why is she suddenly so persistent?
She chuckles and hands me the cup. "My break's in 5 minutes. Talking casually can't hurt, can it?"
I'm too speechless to counter argue and just walk to a table. Maybe if I leave she'll back off.
On the other hand, I might get banned from buying here and I really don't want to buy instant coffee.
Sure enough, 5 minutes later she was sitting in front of me like we've been chums since forever.
"You're so persistent, you know?" I say. Almost impressed but sure to add attitude.
She shrugs it off and crosses her arms. "So I've been told."
Taking a sip of my coffee, I try to read into this to get a grasp on what her deal was. But from my view, all I see is a curious girl showing way too much cleavage and seemingly overworked with those tired looking hands of hers.
"Why do you want to get to know me anyway? I'm just a regular you make idle small talk with. What on earth possessed you to want to go out with me? Are you horny?"
Oops. That last one just slipped out.
Instead of offense, she's completely doubled over. "With that wit? I already love you."
She takes a few seconds to collect herself before continuing. "There's something interesting behind those innocent looking eyes of yours. A story. I like that in a person."
"You like... People who look like they're hiding really dark secrets?"I say, pretending to look offended.
She waves  her hands to try and defend her answer. "AND you look great. You can hide it in that coat but you've got the bod and I've already confirmed you've got the common decency and humor."
I really want to roll my eyes. Presumptuous people are the worst kind of people I deal with daily. 
"That's kinda creepy." I say. "Aren't you at all worried that I just might never come back for you trying to hit on me?"
Christine smirks and leans in closer. "Well, from the way you seem to come here, I take it you don't bother with the other cafes in the area so I'm sure you won't run."
For a second, she's a little too close for comfort, but she eventually backs away. "I guess I'm just saying I'm curious."
"Why can't you be curious about the other regulars?" I ask.
Her face grows bored and she turns to the other tables that had many of the familiar faces.
One by one, she points out each and every regular I see coming in. "Divorcee, smug entrepreneur, twelve stepping drug addict, hopeless romantic, and angry college student."
She turns to me. "They're too easy."
I knew she was right because I made sure to gather data about people around here to make sure no one around Northbrick would be a threat.
 Aside from that assassin from the Penthesilea Agency who got rid of that painter before leaving, I was sure that no one could compromise me.
But this pushy girl is letting it seem like she knows more than what her file says. Or am I just too paranoid?
"And what is it about me that  doesn't seem easy?"
"Like I said. Your eyes." She inclines her head as she keeps her gaze on my eyes. "Something's in there. And like, it makes me want to ask what you live for."
That question again. That damn question again. I don't know if I seem rattled, but this conversation is really not entertaining anymore.
"Sorry, did I hit a nerve?" She asked, sincerely. "It's just... There really is something about you that's intriguing."
We're silent for a few minutes. My coffee is getting cold in my hand but I feel paralyzed to my seat.
"Sorry. I think I'm making you uncomfortable."
She wasn't wrong. I haven't been this uncomfortable since I watched a man willingly eat a vat of acid.
"Nah." I wave it off, trying to reestablish my non-work facade. "Just some deep questions that I have no answers to. Believe it or not, I'm just an ordinary, overworked office worker."
Christine chuckles, taking the cup I hand her as she stands. "Ordinary people don't exist."

She takes over for Cherie at the counter and serves a sharp-looking man with a buzzcut. She gives me a small wave as I walk off, her questions still lingering in my head.

Continue to Part 2: Cold Light - Blurred // Beyond

Author's notes:
I hope you like it. This story was originally something else but I've forgotten the concept I originally adapted and came up with this recently.
I've already finished like 85 percent of this story but it's too long to put in one post. So stay tuned for the next parts of the Light Trilogy.