It was a rousy evening at the Scarlet Serpent. No odd jobs, just a nice day of work. The patrons were in high spirits, putting back glass after glass, almost everyone was taking place in a dart tournament. Man, you should see some assassins playing darts. Anyway, it was a nice night, until a newcomer walked in. The man was 6'1" clad in a well tailored black suit. He was sweating profusely, his red tie drapped around his neck like a scarf. The bar went silent for a moment as the patrons eyed him.
His name was David Heinbecker. 2 weeks ago, a man put a 20 000 dollar bounty on him for fucking the mans girlfriend and sister. I applied some lipstick as he approached the approached the bar. He weightedly slumped onto a stool, placing a hand over the left side of his mug, shielding himself from the patrons gaze.
“Quit it assholes.” I yelled toward the partons. “He’s a customer like anyone else.” The patrons averted their gaze and continued what they we’re doing. I turned to David with a sigh.
“Sorry about that. We’re pretty much family in this bar, so they are a little hostile around new faces.” I took a glass hanging from an oak cabinent behind me and set it in front of him. “Pick your poison, I’ll put this one on the house. No offence, but you look like shit dude.”
He chuckled a little taking the glass.
“Do you have fireball?” He asked, picking himself up off the table. I smiled, taking the bottle of the shelf behind me.
“Always, I love the stuff!”
“Then care to join me?” He looked over the bottle intently as I pour him a glass.
“I probably shouldn’t, but I’m sure a glass won’t hurt. You look like you need someone to talk to anyway.” So I poured myself a glass and sat on the other side of the bar from him. He had a hint of desperatism in his voice when he spoke, like he was trying to sound confident, but he was neck deep in bullshit.
“So, a "friend” of mine got me pinned down.“ He began, looking like he didn’t want to break the surface.
"Pinned?”
“Yeah. He’s a complete ass. We work at the same company, as architects. We both got assigned a recent project, and with it an opportunity for lead designers. We started competing for it and now he has it so I can’t show my face at work.” He mutters, swirling his whiskey but not drinking it yet. I sip mine, leaving a stain from my lipstick.
“So, he’s trying to cut you out of a promotion. Some friend he is.”
“Yeah. He even has the gall to say I started it!”
“How does he get off saying that?” I egged him on, trying to get him to spill it.
“He’s hung up on the fact I fucked his girl. I was dating his sister at the time, and she let so graciously informed me that his girlfriend was cheating on him with 3 other men. I tried telling him but he wouldn’t listen, so OUT OF CONCERN.” He stressed those words, as if it was to make his case. “I needed to show him. I knew she was a whore, I just had to find the right price.” He realised his outbursts were loud and shut up for a sec, deciding to wait for my input.
“Honestly.” I start, looking him in the eyes. “I think you’re both assholes right now.” I say taking a sip of my drink. He huffs.
“I get it. I fucked his girl, but come the fuck on. He needed to know, and here’s the kicker. He put a fucking hit on me. That’s how he has me pinned. By letting any would be assassin take their pick at the money I paid his girl.” His hands tensed, drinking a quarter of his glass. “A fucking hit. I called him my friend.” He chugged the rest of the glass, setting it on the table. I topped it up, as well as my own since it was half empty.
“Some punk tried to mug me in an alley an hour ago. It never occured to the dumbass an alley has two exits.”
“Christ.” I sighed, looking at the man. “You’re in a huge mess.” He downed a second glass and I topped it up. He puts his head in his hands on the table. “I’m not sure if I can even go back home now.” I patted him on the shoulder.
“Look, I live in the flat above here. You can sleep with me tonight.”
“Thank you.” He wiped his gross sweaty forehead. I sighed, taking a deep breath.
A patron bumpped into David as he orders. He was acting intoxicated but there was no smell of alcohol. He ordered some jack Danials, waving his hand over Davids drink for a second with the false of grabbing the bar to keep his balance. I poured him a drink and he left, returning to his table and watching David intently. David sighs, pushing his cup away.
“I guess I should stop drinking. If I were anymore drunk, I wouldn’t have noticed him put something in my drink.” He said outloud. I put my hand over my mouth, throwing his glass into the sink.
“Here, you can have my glass while I close up.” I offered him. “We’ll head to bed after.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have you killed by an amateur.” He drank from the glass, smeared in my lipstick. I declared last call, then a moment later shutting down the bar, sending the patrons on home for tonight. David tried to stand up, his legs failing him and he dropped to the floor like a potato sack. I wrapped his arm around me, heaved him to his feet and started helping him up the carpeted stairs. We sat at the top of the stairs for awhile, before he realised something was wrong. It was already check mate. He turned to me, fear taking his eyes.
“When you said, I wouldn’t have some amateur take you?” I looked at him, smirking for a second, and with a hand pushed him down the stairs. He couldn’t move his body, his mind beginning to slow. He rolled down the stair, landing in a heap at the bottom, his left arm fractured but feeling no pain. I started walking down the stairs after him, talking as I do.
“Earlier, you saw an amateur try to poison your glass. Dropping an calcium arscenic cocktail in it while feigning ignorance.” I clicked my boots together, triggering a bootknife to launch out in front of me. I plucked it from the air gracefully.
“However, my favorite tactic is the kiss of death. The most lethal substance to mankind is known as botulinum. It’s a deadly neurotoxin causing long withstanding paralysis. It’s main use, medicine and cosmetics.” He groaned as I sat down ontop of him, gently placing the knife to his throat.
“That’s how a pro poisons a drink.”
