Assassin

Assassin,
by,
William Morgan

” I had my gun,see? As soon as I held that .38 special in my hands, I felt powerful. I felt like a man. I was gonna be all like Micheal Corleone in that restaurant. So, yeah, I went over to Bernies. He owed me money. A lot of money, but, I only wanted a little, not it all, just enough to get by. So, yeah, I went over there.’cept Bernie was dead. And, they just didn’t kill him, they fuckin’ destroyed him. There was hardly anything left of him. He was torn apart. They left his face intact, I guess so’s he could be recognized. But, the rest of him? Well, you saw him. Who could do that to another human being? I stared at him a long time, tryin to comprehend what I was looking at. It was horrendous, but, it was difficult to look away. Morbid curiosity, I expect.
And, yeah, ya got me. After the shock, I decided to look around some, see if I could find some money. I didn’t have a dime to my name, man. I needed to eat, y’know? So, I look all over the house. In the livin’ room, bedroom, bathroom, in his couch, in his cupboards, closets, fridge freezer, under carpets, under the mattress, pots, pans, every fuckin’ where. Then I step on this floorboard in the spare bedroom. It’s loose, and I’m like, oh, yes! So, I lift up the floorboard, and I find a strong box. I take it out, and, lets be honest, I was scared shitless. What if the killers come back? What if they were looking for the box I had in my hands? Every noise made me jump. I was like shittin’ bricks. So, I’m thinkin’, ok, get the fuck out. Take the box, go home, break it open.
And that’s what I did. Got a hammer and bashed the fuck out of that lock until it finally broke. I was sweatin’. Not used to workin’. I was pissed when I opened the box, cos there wasn’t any money in it, only videotapes. They were labelled alphabetically. Annabelle, Beth, Cassandra, Cathy, Christ he had about 40 tapes in there. So, I’m thinkin’, well, he’s been makin’ some home movies, maybe I can sell em, get a little bit. So, I pop the one labelled Cassandra in the VCR and play it. I wanted to see how good a quality the movie was.
Do you know what it’s like not to sleep? To be scared of closing your eyes because you know for a fact you’re gonna have a soul burning, horrifying, nightmare? That you’re gonna see Bernie, all ripped and torn, with his guts trailing on his bedroom floor, with his limbs moving unnaturally cos they’re hanging by tendons, his neck in a strange angle, grinning lasciviously as it climbs upon a 14 year old girl?
I never knew, never even suspected Bernie was a kiddie fucker. He just didn’t look the type. Bernie looked normal, y’know? I’m still tryin to process it, and I’ll never be able to understand. All those tapes, all those poor children. Jesus, and I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. And, I’m tired, so fuckin tired, so scared of what lies behind my eyes when I close them.
But, I think I know what happened to Bernie. Revenge, that’s what that was. Fuckin ball to the wall, no holds barred vengengance. That’s why the face was left intact. Because his name had to get in the paper. A definite identity.
He was slaughtered, Detective Monahan, assassinated.”

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