A Trade of Skin, of Lead

 

Under the cloak of the midnight sky, the city was barren and quiet, the silence so deep that even the wind seemed to hesitate. It wasn’t the usual silence of the after-hours but an uncomfortable stillness that haunted every nook and corner of the place. The streets that were once bustling and crowded were now empty, filled the scent of fear, loss and death. Ironically, he could hear the distant echoes of gunshots and bombs, a cruel reminder that this solitude wasn’t a pleasurable one. He pulled out the gun hidden inside his own pocket then, the cold, heavy metal pressing into his palms as his fingers tightened around it. It was a difficult job, contributing to the suffering of people, but that was the nature of his profession and he had no regrets- it was just another transaction, just another person who knew too much and needed to be eliminated. Perhaps, he could play into people’s beliefs a little longer, pretending to be a soldier fighting for a noble cause; at least until he had earned enough money to look after his sickly grandmother, his only remaining family.

His thoughts weighed heavily on him as he strode through the desolate streets, carefully scanning every corner for a lead on the man he was sent to murder. He turned left into an alley and finally spotted signs of human life- women and children, the women dressed in tight-fitting silks, messy hair and heavy makeup and the children huddled together in a corner. A brothel, he thought to himself- he had heard the target was a regular here. He slowly ambled his way towards the women standing in the alleyway, careful not to alert them by the pistol in his hand.

He stopped to talk to one of the women, “Excuse me, miss?” he said as the woman turned to look at him, eyes narrowing with suspicion. He quickly tucked his gun away and pulled out a photograph from his coat, “Have you seen this man around here?”

The woman looked at the picture and shook her head, “No, but you might want to talk to the madam, she knows all the men who come and go here.”

“Where can I find her?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the other women, looking for a sign of the ‘madam’ who was bound to know something.

The woman barely spared him a glance before pointing to a building, clearly uninterested in small talk. He muttered a quick thanks before heading towards the building, which was rather plain-looking with dark, heavy curtains covering the windows and a small unmarked doorway. He knocked, then pushed the door open when there was no response and walked in. The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of perfume. There were two old and shabby settees on one side of the room and a long table cluttered with money and paper on the other side. A woman sat at the table counting finances, her fingers skillfully sorting through the money.

He cleared his throat, “Excuse me, are you the madam?”  The woman who seemed to be ignoring him so far, finally looked up and gestured him to speak.

“I’m looking for a man who is a frequent visitor here, could you please help me identify him?” he said, laying down the photograph on the woman’s desk. The woman picked up the picture and studied it for a long time before finally setting it back down.

Her gaze, sharp and unreadable, shifted to him, “He does come by often,” she said, “Always asks for the same girl.”

“Who is she?” he enquired, “And by any chance, do you happen to know the whereabouts of this man?”

The woman tapped her fingers against the table, eyeing him carefully before giving him a response. She nodded towards the stairs in the corner of the room, “Upstairs, first door on the right, both of them,” she said, “But if you’re planning on causing trouble, I suggest you think twice.”

“Has this man paid you yet?” he pulled out a stack of cash from his coat pocket and set it on the woman’s desk giving her a meaningful look. She quickly counted the bills and nodded at him, “Very well then,” she said, stuffing the money in a drawer, “Do what you must, just don’t make a mess.”

Without wasting time, he swiftly walked up the stairs and found himself in front of the door. He paused and exhaled as his fingers curled around the doorknob, It’s just another job, he told himself before reloading his gun and barging into the room. The room was dim, only illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains casting pale streaks across the bed. A woman lounged against the headboard lazily holding a cigarette in her hand, the sheets loosely draped around her body. She didn’t look startled but rather amused at his sudden entrance. His eyes snapped towards the other figure in the room- a half-naked man in his forties perched on the edge of the bed. For a brief second, their eyes met, the man’s eyes widened with shock as he jumped up from the bed and bolted, shoving him away in an attempt to escape. He grabbed the man by his collar before he could leave, yanking him back and throwing him on the floor. Before the man could scramble away, he pointed the gun at him.

“Please, don’t kill me,” the man begged, his voice trembling, “I won’t sell the information to anyone, my wife- my kids-” BANG.

The gunshot echoed through the room drowning the man’s final plea. He exhaled slowly, then flicked the safety back on and tucked the gun away. He was about to turn around and leave when a soft chuckle broke the silence. He looked up to see the woman laughing. Strange, he thought to himself, People usually find me terrifying when I kill.

“What?” he raised his eyebrow and looked at the woman pointedly. The woman flicked the cigarette ashes away and shook her head, smiling, “Poor guy didn’t even get to finish his last words, you could have at least let him beg a bit longer.” She took another drag of her cigarette, looking down at the man’s lifeless figure on the floor.

“There’s no point in that,” he mumbled, wiping his bloody hands on his coat, “They always say the same thing.”

“And you hear them out every time?” she said, laughing again and tilting her head to the side. He didn’t answer, instead, he looked at her warily. People usually reacted to his work negatively- screaming, crying, running away- which is why he chose to maintain distance from people and never told his grandmother about his profession. But this woman- she had laughed.

“So,” she continued, “Are you done or do you plan on finishing me off too?”

He scoffed, “I don’t kill for free.”

“Good to know, I don’t give love for free either,” she hummed in thought, studying him, “You must work for the government?” She said finally but her tone had changed. He looked at her then, really looked at her and realized that the amusement had now disappeared from her face, there was no fear or pity either, just understanding. He didn’t quite understand why but for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel entirely alone. In that moment, he felt like he could tell that woman anything.

“Yes, I do,” he answered, his gaze steady, “They pay me to handle their dirty work for them, to pull the trigger so they don’t have to.”

She rolled her eyes, “Typical,” she said pressing her cigarette into the ashtray, “I think you’re similar, you and I. You get paid to kill people because the government likes to believe that it is innocent, I get paid to make love because men like to believe they’re loved.”

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe that someone else in this world understood him. All those years he had spent by himself after his family passed in the war, all those years he had spent hiding the truth from his grandmother-protecting her from the heartache of knowing that he chose a profession that took her son from her- he had convinced himself to carry the burden of his loneliness alone. He never thought anyone would truly see him again. Yet, for the first time, he felt like someone did.

“Well, enough of that,” she said, changing the topic, “Shouldn’t you get going now?”

He blinked and looked down at the dead man on the ground, then back at her, “Yes, I should.”

“Go ahead then,” she paused, “But if you ever need a drink or maybe just some company, you know where to find me.”

He nodded at her and walked out without a word. Outside, the city was still barren and quiet but for some reason, the silence didn’t feel as heavy as it had before.