Harold
Harold Darwin Maison is an average looking man. About 5'9 in height with a slightly stocky frame, he didn't looked any different from a typical american man. Sandy hair fell beneath his nape with dark brown eyes that roughly a few million american's shared. Throw him in a crowd and no one would look at him twice. Even worse was the dull unremarkable outfits he wore. Sometimes it would be faded jeans and a washed out shirt over an old jacket. Sometimes a gray suit. Others times a typical working man's shirt and overalls. The combination of his looks and the clothes he wore turned him into a ghost.
Except when he opened his mouth. Someone would died.
The few people who knew him, told him that character of his was unerringly creepy and Harold just looked at them with a level eye. It got their mouths closing and leaving the subject better left unsaid.
Though there were rumors that his voice was liquid silk. Of molten gold that could drown a person's senses. Enough to make a man to let down his guard. Enough for a woman to fall madly in love. Enough time to put a bullet through the brain. That was what Harold Darwin Maison's true character. The ghost man with a voice of an angel. The silent assassin who lets his victim hear a bit of what heaven might be like before sending them off to the big cosmos.
Harold Darwin Maison was an assassin and damn good at it. No one is safe from him.
_
Cindy glanced at the clock above the bar for the third time. It was almost midnight. Almost time for her shift to end. She grabbed the empty beer bottles and set them in her serving tray.
Nearby, a customer whistled signaling for more beer. She gave him a curt nod. Oh god, not him again. His shiny bald head could be seen a mile away and he also had a tendancy of copping a feel whenever she came for a refill. She headed back to the bar where Old Dean, the owner and bartender, stood filling up more beers jugs. He grunted as she approached.
"I see a couple of customers wanting a refill. Give'em what they want and then you can call it a night."
"Sure thing, boss. Is Leslie around yet?"
"Yeah, she's just out back. She'll take over your shift once you're done. Now get going."
Cindy maneuvered her way around the bar, refilling customers beer mugs while smiling and exchanging harmless flirtations for a few extra tips. Waitressing in a bar wasn't exactly what Cindy dreamed of doing since she dropped out of community college but thanks to her no-good ex-boyfriend Mark, this was all she could come up with so his lily white ass doesn't have to spend the night in jail.
Convicted of multiple thefts and drug carrying arrests, you think Mark would have the sense to stop what he was doing but last week word on the street was, he had dealings with a few shady characters. Namely the mafia.
Cindy didn't believe it at first because Mark couldn't be THAT stupid. Turns out he was and she had to finally end their relationship. Albeit there was a lot of shouting, cussing, breaking furniture and threats involved. But she was done with that shit and moving on.
Cindy arrived last at the customer who whistled at her for a refill. He was a middle-aged man with the beginnings of a pot belly. His shiny bald head could be seen a mile away.
Cindy resisted the urge to pour beer all over his business suit as his eyes rake in her from head to toe. She didn't care if he was some bigshot in a company, his manners were totally lacking. She approached his table and made sure to keep her rear end as far away as possible from wandering hands.
Go in quick and leave, she told herself as the man smiled at her. She shivered and not in a good way. It took her thirty seconds to refill the man's glass and a second more to leave but the man's hand grabbed her, pulling her back to his table.
A loud sound of protest were on Cindy's lips but went silent when the man held up a twenty dollar bill. He smiled at her.
"Don't care for a little tip, sweet cheeks?"
Cindy narrowed her eyes and took the money. She turned to leave and the man the chance to slap her ass. Cindy grit her teeth, fighting the strong impulse to turn around and give the man a piece of her mind.
Seeing Leslie by the bar, she heaved a sigh of relief and quickly made her way toward her co-worker.
"You have no idea how much I'm happy to see you right now. That guy in table seven is such a jerk."
Leslie smiled at her. Her dark ponytail flicking as she turned her hazel brown eyes to where the old bald man was sitting.
"Wasn't he here last time too? Wandering hand man?"
Cindy snorted. "More like asshole. He keeps trying to grab my ass every time I turn around and tips me like its no big deal so you be careful around him. I'm going to head out now. See you tomorrow."
"Alright, thanks for the tip."
The temperature outside was freezing. Little white puffs escaped from Cindy as she emerged from the door behind the bar.
Tonight was the night before Christmas and it was snowing heavily, covering everything in white. Her apartment was far from the bar and the trains had probably closed down since it was already midnight.
She usually took the train ride home but since it was snowing and almost Christmas, the trains were closed early. No choice but to walk home.
She got out of the door, immediately feeling the cold weather and stopped when she saw a familiar man leaning against the wall. His black unkempt hair slicked all the way to the back of his head. A pair of gray eyes.
Often times Cindy wondered why she put up with a dick like Mark but seeing him like the bad boy he was, reminded her of the old times. God, she was an idiot back then. She rolled her eyes and walked past him but he grabbed her arm.
"Come on Cindy, don't be like that." He cajoled, smelling of alcohol.
Cindy pulled her arm away from him and he reluctantly let go. She gave him an angry glare. She didn't want to deal with a drunk boyfriend just when she just got off from work.
Work, she wanted to remind him, to pay his bail.
"I told you we were over Mark. Which part didn't you didn't get the message?" She hissed at him. Mark came close until she could smell the alcohol on his breath.
"I was only doing it for us, baby. You know that I love you right? So give me another chance. I swear I'll stop hanging out with those guys in the mafia."
Her expression turned into disgust. "Like the time you promised you'd stop stealing and get a clean job? Or how about the time you promise to stop hanging around with street gangsters? Or the time you promised me you'll take me somewhere nice on my birthday? Fat chance I'll believe you anymore, Mark. It's over between us. Find someone else to clean up your mess because I sure as hell won't do it anymore."
Mark blinked then smiled.
"This time its different. I'm really planning to clean up my act. I was thinking of working at my uncle's store as a cashier or something. Maybe take a few part-time jobs to help you pay off our apartment."
"My apartment, Mark. The contract is under my name. And did you forget I tossed you out with all of your stuff when we broke up? So techinically the apartment belongs to me and there is no way I am taking you back again."
Mark's expression turned angry.
"Oh yeah? You think you can still pay rent when your meleasy salary can't even afford to buy a week's groceries? Face it, Cindy you need me and once I'll be rolling in the big bucks you won't have to worry about money ever again."
Cindy glared at him. "I said no. I'm not repeating it again."
Mark's face turned ugly. He grabbed Cindy forcefully and slammed her against the wall. Her bag fell on the ground and she tried to scream for help but Mark covered her mouth, blocking her effectively. He produced a knife and held it against her throat.
"You fucking bitch! I'm losing my patience here after I asked so nicely. It would have been better if you just accepted me back in your life."
He went on rambling. Cindy was terrified. She knew Mark was doing dangerous illegal things but to threaten her with a knife was a new one.
She didn't know if she would live through the night without suffering a few cuts or even worse beaten. She looked frantically around for someone to help her but the alleyway was empty and the door to the club was only a few feet away.
If she could just scream, someone might come running.
She was so terrified that she didn't notice a figure standing a little bit behind Mark, unmoving. When she did, she screamed but her screams were blocked with Mark's mouth covering it.
It totally caught her unaware to suddenly see a man standing behind Mark. He was totally unremarkable with features so common she wouldn't have noticed him at all.
He wore different shades of white and black which made him harder to see but Cindy could see him now. Her muffled screams and cries of help were ignored as the man stood like a statue.
Then he opened his mouth.
His voice was like liquid silk. Like molten gold that caressed anyone within hearing distance to shivers of ecstasy.
"Excuse me but are you Mark Gringer?"
"Look buddy, I'm busy."
Mark stopped his ranting and turned. He glared at the man. "Fuck off."
"I'll take that as a yes and sorry but no can do. I'm here because Marco isn't too pleased with the job you did last time. He told me you lost your last chance and to tell you goodbye. So goodbye."
The man produced a silencer and before Mark could react, he planted a bullet between Mark's eyes. He crumpled to the ground and blood leaked over to the snow. Cindy screamed then but the mysterious man quickly drowned it by covering his gloved hand over her mouth.
"Shssh, please don't scream." He said pleasantly. His voice sent a quiver down Cindy's spine. She couldn't describe the wonder and amazement of his voice.
It was like an angel talking to her. An enlightenment that tempted her to leave everything behind and do whatever he wanted. Both temptation and the reality of what was happening in the situation warred within her.
She didn't know whether to obey the man or keep being terrified over what just happened. Instead she opted to stare at him.
The man loosened his grip just enough to let her breath normally.
"Just who are you?" She whispered.
The man smiled though there was nothing handsome about him. He looked ordinary enough. Nothing stood out.
"Just a private plumber. I'm really sorry you had to be in the middle of all of this. It's a job, nothing personal. Hope you understand."
He aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.
Except when he opened his mouth. Someone would died.
The few people who knew him, told him that character of his was unerringly creepy and Harold just looked at them with a level eye. It got their mouths closing and leaving the subject better left unsaid.
Though there were rumors that his voice was liquid silk. Of molten gold that could drown a person's senses. Enough to make a man to let down his guard. Enough for a woman to fall madly in love. Enough time to put a bullet through the brain. That was what Harold Darwin Maison's true character. The ghost man with a voice of an angel. The silent assassin who lets his victim hear a bit of what heaven might be like before sending them off to the big cosmos.
Harold Darwin Maison was an assassin and damn good at it. No one is safe from him.
_
Cindy glanced at the clock above the bar for the third time. It was almost midnight. Almost time for her shift to end. She grabbed the empty beer bottles and set them in her serving tray.
Nearby, a customer whistled signaling for more beer. She gave him a curt nod. Oh god, not him again. His shiny bald head could be seen a mile away and he also had a tendancy of copping a feel whenever she came for a refill. She headed back to the bar where Old Dean, the owner and bartender, stood filling up more beers jugs. He grunted as she approached.
"I see a couple of customers wanting a refill. Give'em what they want and then you can call it a night."
"Sure thing, boss. Is Leslie around yet?"
"Yeah, she's just out back. She'll take over your shift once you're done. Now get going."
Cindy maneuvered her way around the bar, refilling customers beer mugs while smiling and exchanging harmless flirtations for a few extra tips. Waitressing in a bar wasn't exactly what Cindy dreamed of doing since she dropped out of community college but thanks to her no-good ex-boyfriend Mark, this was all she could come up with so his lily white ass doesn't have to spend the night in jail.
Convicted of multiple thefts and drug carrying arrests, you think Mark would have the sense to stop what he was doing but last week word on the street was, he had dealings with a few shady characters. Namely the mafia.
Cindy didn't believe it at first because Mark couldn't be THAT stupid. Turns out he was and she had to finally end their relationship. Albeit there was a lot of shouting, cussing, breaking furniture and threats involved. But she was done with that shit and moving on.
Cindy arrived last at the customer who whistled at her for a refill. He was a middle-aged man with the beginnings of a pot belly. His shiny bald head could be seen a mile away.
Cindy resisted the urge to pour beer all over his business suit as his eyes rake in her from head to toe. She didn't care if he was some bigshot in a company, his manners were totally lacking. She approached his table and made sure to keep her rear end as far away as possible from wandering hands.
Go in quick and leave, she told herself as the man smiled at her. She shivered and not in a good way. It took her thirty seconds to refill the man's glass and a second more to leave but the man's hand grabbed her, pulling her back to his table.
A loud sound of protest were on Cindy's lips but went silent when the man held up a twenty dollar bill. He smiled at her.
"Don't care for a little tip, sweet cheeks?"
Cindy narrowed her eyes and took the money. She turned to leave and the man the chance to slap her ass. Cindy grit her teeth, fighting the strong impulse to turn around and give the man a piece of her mind.
Seeing Leslie by the bar, she heaved a sigh of relief and quickly made her way toward her co-worker.
"You have no idea how much I'm happy to see you right now. That guy in table seven is such a jerk."
Leslie smiled at her. Her dark ponytail flicking as she turned her hazel brown eyes to where the old bald man was sitting.
"Wasn't he here last time too? Wandering hand man?"
Cindy snorted. "More like asshole. He keeps trying to grab my ass every time I turn around and tips me like its no big deal so you be careful around him. I'm going to head out now. See you tomorrow."
"Alright, thanks for the tip."
The temperature outside was freezing. Little white puffs escaped from Cindy as she emerged from the door behind the bar.
Tonight was the night before Christmas and it was snowing heavily, covering everything in white. Her apartment was far from the bar and the trains had probably closed down since it was already midnight.
She usually took the train ride home but since it was snowing and almost Christmas, the trains were closed early. No choice but to walk home.
She got out of the door, immediately feeling the cold weather and stopped when she saw a familiar man leaning against the wall. His black unkempt hair slicked all the way to the back of his head. A pair of gray eyes.
Often times Cindy wondered why she put up with a dick like Mark but seeing him like the bad boy he was, reminded her of the old times. God, she was an idiot back then. She rolled her eyes and walked past him but he grabbed her arm.
"Come on Cindy, don't be like that." He cajoled, smelling of alcohol.
Cindy pulled her arm away from him and he reluctantly let go. She gave him an angry glare. She didn't want to deal with a drunk boyfriend just when she just got off from work.
Work, she wanted to remind him, to pay his bail.
"I told you we were over Mark. Which part didn't you didn't get the message?" She hissed at him. Mark came close until she could smell the alcohol on his breath.
"I was only doing it for us, baby. You know that I love you right? So give me another chance. I swear I'll stop hanging out with those guys in the mafia."
Her expression turned into disgust. "Like the time you promised you'd stop stealing and get a clean job? Or how about the time you promise to stop hanging around with street gangsters? Or the time you promised me you'll take me somewhere nice on my birthday? Fat chance I'll believe you anymore, Mark. It's over between us. Find someone else to clean up your mess because I sure as hell won't do it anymore."
Mark blinked then smiled.
"This time its different. I'm really planning to clean up my act. I was thinking of working at my uncle's store as a cashier or something. Maybe take a few part-time jobs to help you pay off our apartment."
"My apartment, Mark. The contract is under my name. And did you forget I tossed you out with all of your stuff when we broke up? So techinically the apartment belongs to me and there is no way I am taking you back again."
Mark's expression turned angry.
"Oh yeah? You think you can still pay rent when your meleasy salary can't even afford to buy a week's groceries? Face it, Cindy you need me and once I'll be rolling in the big bucks you won't have to worry about money ever again."
Cindy glared at him. "I said no. I'm not repeating it again."
Mark's face turned ugly. He grabbed Cindy forcefully and slammed her against the wall. Her bag fell on the ground and she tried to scream for help but Mark covered her mouth, blocking her effectively. He produced a knife and held it against her throat.
"You fucking bitch! I'm losing my patience here after I asked so nicely. It would have been better if you just accepted me back in your life."
He went on rambling. Cindy was terrified. She knew Mark was doing dangerous illegal things but to threaten her with a knife was a new one.
She didn't know if she would live through the night without suffering a few cuts or even worse beaten. She looked frantically around for someone to help her but the alleyway was empty and the door to the club was only a few feet away.
If she could just scream, someone might come running.
She was so terrified that she didn't notice a figure standing a little bit behind Mark, unmoving. When she did, she screamed but her screams were blocked with Mark's mouth covering it.
It totally caught her unaware to suddenly see a man standing behind Mark. He was totally unremarkable with features so common she wouldn't have noticed him at all.
He wore different shades of white and black which made him harder to see but Cindy could see him now. Her muffled screams and cries of help were ignored as the man stood like a statue.
Then he opened his mouth.
His voice was like liquid silk. Like molten gold that caressed anyone within hearing distance to shivers of ecstasy.
"Excuse me but are you Mark Gringer?"
"Look buddy, I'm busy."
Mark stopped his ranting and turned. He glared at the man. "Fuck off."
"I'll take that as a yes and sorry but no can do. I'm here because Marco isn't too pleased with the job you did last time. He told me you lost your last chance and to tell you goodbye. So goodbye."
The man produced a silencer and before Mark could react, he planted a bullet between Mark's eyes. He crumpled to the ground and blood leaked over to the snow. Cindy screamed then but the mysterious man quickly drowned it by covering his gloved hand over her mouth.
"Shssh, please don't scream." He said pleasantly. His voice sent a quiver down Cindy's spine. She couldn't describe the wonder and amazement of his voice.
It was like an angel talking to her. An enlightenment that tempted her to leave everything behind and do whatever he wanted. Both temptation and the reality of what was happening in the situation warred within her.
She didn't know whether to obey the man or keep being terrified over what just happened. Instead she opted to stare at him.
The man loosened his grip just enough to let her breath normally.
"Just who are you?" She whispered.
The man smiled though there was nothing handsome about him. He looked ordinary enough. Nothing stood out.
"Just a private plumber. I'm really sorry you had to be in the middle of all of this. It's a job, nothing personal. Hope you understand."
He aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.
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