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‘guns for hire’ — behind the mask #1

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synopsis — leo’s life is turned upside down when he sees his boss getting murdered. what’s worse, was that he witnessed the mercenary behind the hit taking off his mask, and saw his face. leo promises not to go to the police with his identity, but the mercenary decides it’s not worth letting him go.

content warnings: minor character death, murder, use of guns, blood, failed escape attempt, manhandling, non-con drugging, slightly intimate whumper

Leo was tired.

Exhaustion lay upon his skin like a disease, weighing the dark circles under his eyes.

It wasn’t unusual for his boss, the CEO of the company, to stay late like this. It also wasn’t unusual that Leo, his secretary, was also forced to stay late alongside him, to do the occasional coffee run and complete any new work he deemed necessary. He knew his boss, Jacob Williams, was capable of surviving the night without him, but insisted on Leo staying too.

A quiet, involuntary sigh slipped past his lips, jabbing the buttons on the coffee machine lazily. It whirred, a steaming black liquid filling the cup.

It was almost three in the morning, and Leo was dying to go home. It was still the weekday, and that meant a bright and early start the next morning. It wasn’t easy to replace a secretary for the day, and his boss was a strict man.

Too strict, and maybe a little cruel, but despite his small frame and height, Leo was a lot studier than he looked.

Wedging the plastic lid on top of the cup, the blond haired man was satisfied with the finished product, swiveling on his heel to return to Jacob’s office. He speculated he would have enough time to complete his tasks before he finished the drink, and mentally prepared to throw himself into his work.

He was severely overworked, and he couldn’t wait to collapse into the comfort of his own bed, wrapped in his blankets.

The thoughts made his eyes droop, watching the elevator doors close.

It was pleasant to stretch his legs and give his weary brain a rest, and a change of scenery always worked well in massaging those tight knots in his brain. The melodic beeping sound cut him from his trance, the automated voice ringing out through his skull, informing him of the number of the top floor. The doors spread open, and Leo stepped out, loosening his tie slightly.

A loud banging noise caught his attention, his head whipping to the left in surprise. The office desks were completely empty, the chairs tucked in and computers switched off. Only the dim ceiling light was left on, as well as that eerie feeling of being alone in a huge building.

Leo’s stomach rolled with dread.

It was only him and Jacob here, and possibly a janitor, if they hadn’t left already. It seemed the sound had come from his boss’ office, the blinds snapped shut and door open a jar. His shoes were muffled against the carpet as he skittishly approached the room, glancing at his own desk on the way. It was exactly how he left it, except…

A frown graced his brows, reaching forward and setting his picture frame right.

It seemed to have fallen over, and he was grateful the glass hadn’t cracked. Was that what made the noise? He stared at the picture of his mother, but turned towards the door in dismissal. Leo was more than happy to finish the day. He gripped the handle, pushing it open slightly. He could hear faint voices, and he froze.

Was Jacob talking to someone on the phone? He couldn’t be. Calls got redirected to Leo automatically. Out of curiosity and respect, he silently nudged the door open further, giving him a better view.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

There was somebody else in the room, dressed up in black and a mask covering his face. He was pointing a gun. He was pointing it directly at Jacob. The man was shaking behind the desk, tears streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably. His lips were quivering, no doubt trying to form words. It was the most emotion the stoic man had ever shown; he looked absolutely terrified.

The masked man seemed to say something, too quiet for Leo’s eavesdropping ears, tilting his gun. Jacob’s eyes widened, shaking his head widely.

Leo heard his voice rise in a pique of panicked desperation. “No, wait, please.”

Then there was a sickening bang, and Leo slapped a hand over his mouth. He suppressed the urge not to let out a horrific scream, watching in horror as Jacob’s body slammed against the cabinet behind him, before dropping to the ground lifelessly. Splatters of blood littered the glass in streaks, pooling onto the carpet by his lifeless body. Nausea stirred in the pit of Leo’s belly, tears pricking at his eyes.

He’d just been shot. Jacob had just been shot.

The secretary’s breath hitched in his throat, panic gripping him. God, was he going to die too?

The masked man’s shoulders heaved with a sigh, before he slid the gun into his belt wrapped around his waist. Those gloved fingers dipped under the fabric of his mask, before slipping it off his head, revealing tousled black hair. He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead wearily.

Leo didn’t see anymore than that. His feet staggered backwards, knocking the coffee cup with the heel of his shoe, causing him to flinch violently. He didn’t remember dropping it, but the black liquid was staining the floor under his feet, specks of steam rising into the air.

He felt a wave of dizziness slam into him, sending him into his desk. He threw his arms out to steady himself, whirling around in terror. He snatched the phone, his fingers barely even finding enough strength to punch in three digits on the black body. He pressed the cold object against his ear, the piercing rings vibrating through his skull. He could hardly keep his breathing under control.

He couldn’t stop replaying that moment, where the gun had gone off, and the bullet had embedded straight through his skull. The blood that followed, the useless slump of his body and the noise it made when he hit the floor. Leo felt tears burn in his eyes.

God, he didn’t want to die. He really didn’t want to die.

The door was pulled open, and Leo whirled around, his heart lodged in his throat. The killer stepped outside, but he instantly halted as his eyes landed on the secretary. A shudder raced down Leo’s spine when a female voice rang in his ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

He pressed himself against the desk, the edge digging into his hip so hard, he was sure it would bruise. The words couldn’t leave his lips, clogged in his throat.

The man’s eyes were piercing, slicing straight through him, leaving him paralised to the spot. It felt like he was being stared down by the grim reaper himself. His face was still in clear view. He hadn’t even put the mask back on. Leo’s bottom lip quivered, heart banging against his ribs.

The man blinked, before his brows relaxed, and he slowly reached for his belt. He pulled out the gun, and when the barrel pointed in his direction, Leo almost burst into tears.

“Hello?”

The killer raised a brow, nudging his gun downwards. The command made his stomach sink to his boots. Leo opened his mouth to speak, but the man’s gloved finger thumbed at the metal contraption, and a sharp clicking sound pierced through the air like a bullet. The sound alone spurred Leo into action, fumbling to slam the phone back down into its slot on his desk. A trembling sigh left his lips, feeling a hot tear bead down his cheek.

The man’s lip quirked into a small smirk. “There we go.”

The secretary’s hands were shaking as he lifted them weakly into the air, sticking close to his desk. The mercenary reached up to something on his shoulder, pushing his fingers against it. A loud crackling sound was heard.

“We have a bit of a problem,” he sighed. His voice was smooth, and it was making Leo shiver. “Can you make room for another?”

There was a muffled voice on the other end as Leo’s breathing picked up. Make room for another? What did that mean? The man released the communication device, redirecting his attention straight back to him. Leo’s eyes instantly flickered to the ground, pinching them shut.

“I-I didn’t see your face,” he shakily whispered.

The man scoffed in amusement. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“I won’t tell the cops, I promise! Please!”

“You just called them.” He raised a brow. “How can I trust you?”

Leo dissolved into a series of more tears. It felt like the gun was burning a hole straight through his forehead, unable to stop imagining that small bullet embedding in his brain. He shook his head from side to side. “I promise, I-I promise, please just let me go...”

The mercenary hummed, his eyes lacking any sort of compassion. He head turned aside for a moment, surveying his surrounding with one languid sweep. His heavy boots trailed along the carpet, coaxing Leo from his paranoid state. He cracked open one eye, too afraid any movement would cause the man to shoot him.

He gripped the back of one of the chairs, jerking it out from under the desk. The wheels smoothly rolled across the carpet as he swivelled it towards him, back facing Jacob’s door. His gloved hand patted the top, nudging the gun firmly.

“Sit.”

Leo didn’t need to be told twice. It took him a few horrible seconds to force his legs to move, staggering under his own weight. His fingers dug into the arm of the chair as he lowered himself down, shoulders tense. He half expected to feel the gun on the back of his skull, and a jarring pain before darkness, but the mercenary strode in front of him instead, gun hanging limply from his fingers.

Leo pressed his hands into his lap.

“You’re the secretary, aren’t you?” The man asked, his eyes flickering towards him. His mouth flopped open uselessly, before he quickly nodded his head. The man’s expression tightened.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he sighed, nonchalantly rubbing the gun against the side of his head. Maybe with some luck, he might accidentally shoot himself. “I didn’t see you when I disabled the cameras. How annoying. Where were you hiding?”

The gun tipped in his direction. Leo’s breath hitched in panic.

“Getting coffee!” He practically shrieked, pressing his back into the chair. “M-Mr Williams sent me on a coffee run, p-please don’t kill me!”

The mercenary’s eyes landed on the discarded coffee cup on the floor, before sliding back up to Leo’s pale face. He dragged his hand across his forehead, lowering the gun to slide it back into his belt. The secretary let out a trembling breath of relief, like a small weight had lifted off his shoulders.

“This is troublesome,” he groaned softly. “If you’d just stayed at your desk, this would have gone a lot smoother.”

Leo’s eyes widened in horror. The thought of never seeing the attack coming, throat being sliced from the shadows and soiling his own desk with blood. The mercenary seemed to read his thoughts easily.

“No, I wouldn’t have killed you,” he almost chuckled. “Just would’ve put you to sleep for a while. It’s always convenient to have somebody wake up and find the body. You got real unlucky, Mr Secretary; you even saw my face, too.”

He pulled out a bottle of liquid and a syringe from a pouch across his chest. Leo released a terrified sob, jolting in the chair. “No! Please, please don’t! I-I won’t tell, I swear, I won’t tell anybody, please!”

“Back in the seat,” the mercenary warned. Leo rigidly sank back, eyes burning with tears. He watched as the thin needle was pressed into the glass vial, and the plunger was slowly pulled outwards. He watched it fill the syringe, shaking in his boots.

“Please,” he croaked. The man ignored him.

“Like I said,” his voice echoed. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. I like to think I’m very thorough with my plans, so I find it odd you were in the right place, right time.”

He paused for a moment, pocketing the now empty vial. “Well, I guess now it would be wrong place, wrong time, huh?”

He took a step forward, and Leo’s heart began rising to his throat. The wheels on the chair stirred under his movement as his legs tensed underneath him. The accusation stabbed straight through his heart, scrambling against the arms of the chair.

“No,” he sobbed, careering backwards. “Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

The chair jerked backwards and when the mercenary was close enough to touch him, he struck him as hard as he could with his leg. He felt his shoe sink into his stomach, successfully knocking the wind out of his lungs. The syringe clattered to the ground, and Leo wheeled backwards, scrambling out of the chair as it smacked abruptly into the wall.

He knew it wouldn’t take long for a man that size to recover. He was stronger, broader and larger than Leo in every way shape and form, and he didn’t doubt he had a horrible chance of escaping from a hitman.

But he tried. Leo was a fast runner.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins in a merciless rush. His shoes were smacking against the hard ground, ricocheting up to his thighs, but he couldn’t care. Couldn’t think.

He reached the doorway and skidded around the corner, slamming into the wall. He leered off it like he had been burnt, using the sturdiness to give himself a firm boost. Just as he was about to begin his descent down the stairs, something firm wrapped around his waist, jerking him back. His feet swept off the ground and a second arm slipped around his neck, pulling him into a hard chest.

Leo let out a terrified scream and thrashed his limbs frantically, desperately, trying to tear free. He felt a gloved hand wind through his hair, yanking his temple painfully against the concrete wall. Leo saw stars burst across his vision as he was shoved violently into the ground, still flailing, still screaming for help.

He felt a burning pain shoot up his shoulder blades, the knee digging painfully into the flesh. His wrists were locked together by a single hand, twisting his arms back at an uncomfortable angle. Another pressed against his mouth, muffling his screams. He heard the mercenary sigh above him.

“Jesus, you’re quick!” He exclaimed, the grip on his wrists bruising. Leo only squirmed desperately, sobbing against his hand. “Did you do track at school? You really covered some ground there.”

The secretary pressed his head into the ground, shaking with fear. The man was far too strong to shake off, and he didn’t think he was going to get another chance for escape. The gloved hand slid from his mouth, and Leo did the only thing he could.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wailed, dragging his shoes against the ground. “Please let me go! I-I won’t say...anything, just please let me go. I’m begging you!”

“Yeah, you are,” the mercenary shrugged. “But it’s not working.”

He felt a sharp jab in the side of his neck, tearing a pained gasp from his lips. A cold feeling starting spreading through his skin, causing a whimper to catch in his throat.

“No, no, please...” He whispered shakily, but the man wasn’t listening. There was another sharp crackling sound from the man’s shoulder.

“You here? I got another body, I’n gonna need you to—” He stopped, his voice becoming a little sharper. “No, not dead, a live one, you idiot. I can’t climb out the way I came with another person, can you...? Yes, the cameras. Can you get him to do that? No, look, how do you expect me to scale down the building with somebody on my shoulder? Right. Make it quick, there’s a chance the cops could be coming. I’ll...tell you later, get it done.”

Leo’s hearing was starting to go funny. A tingling sensation began building up right in the tips of his fingers, making him feel ridiculously sluggish. It looked like the walls were moving.

His movements quickly began to die down, until he could hardly gather enough strength to move anything at all. A small moan escaped his lips, his eyelids drooping. The mercenary’s weight lifted off him, turning him onto his back.

“That feels better, right? Like you’re floating on cloud nine,” he chuckled, a handsome grin gracing his lips. Leo whined softly as he was scooped off the ground, head rolling against the man’s chest. “Keep flying for a little bit. Just relax.”

So Leo did. He felt a gloved thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek, before his vision was completely consumed in a black mist.

Love that mezato engineered a meme cult singlehandedly, campaigned behind the scenes for months, and started a major international incident because "well what else is there to do?"

accurate chaotic 13 year old girl representation.

#gfh #mp100 #mezato #what a good kid