The Executioner

By Elizabeth Kolodziej

After she got into her car, she slammed the door. Hard. She jammed the key into the ignition and turned the key so that the car would start. Pressing the gas petal to take off, she heard the powerful engine roar with a loud booming noise. The seat belt was of no concern to her, but putting the car into first to take off was a must. After putting the car in first, the car lunged forward. She switched to second with ease and then third. As the gears shifted, her speed gage went up, fast, she drove with little or no regard for the pedestrians on the streets. Turning a street corner, the tires hugged the curb, tightly. Both hands were clenched on the wheel, her knuckles turning white. However, the tight grip wouldn’t be noticed until she felt she was out of harm’s way. Soon a freeway ramp was in view, and she took it.

Driving a few miles down the highway, with no warning of trouble, she slowed her speed from 110 to 70 and loosened her grip so blood would flow again. Melissa realized she was the only car driving on the highway; it was three in the morning, so the curiosity of why faded. Her breath began to slow. As she lit a cigarette, her mind slowly eased, and her problems were beginning to fade.

Several hours before…

The afternoon was bright and the day was brand new. Melissa threw the covers off her body and pulled herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes while thinking of her day ahead. She walked over to the bathroom and turned the knob for the water to start running from the shower.

Spinning around to look at herself in the mirror, she noticed how dull her complexion looked. She pulled at the skin under her eyes and then let go watching the skin take back its form.

Removing the thought from her mind, she tested the water making sure it was warm enough to get in. Melissa let the water hit her pale skin and soak into her hair; it was an hour away from sun down, and she knew she would have to start work soon.

A couple of hours had passed since her alarm had sounded. She flowed into her living room without making a sound.

In one quick movement she sat down. Melissa’s black leather pants squeaked against her identical leather couch as she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position; she brushed her silk blouse making sure ashes from her cigarette had not fallen onto it.

Then she opened her organizer and flipped through it; twenty different names were listed with a price next to each one. She looked through the names, remembering which person owed what amount of money and why. Melissa thought of who would be the best target to go after tonight, but while she was trying to decide, a beeping sound came from her cell phone which sat on a small wooden table next to her. Picking it up, she stared at the number.

She flipped the phone open, “Yes.” She answered.

“It’s Dominick.” She stayed quiet. “I got a proposal for you.” She recognized the man’s voice on the other end as her long time boss and somewhat friend.

“I’m listening.” She grabbed a magazine to flip through while waiting for him to talk.

He cleared his throat. “I want you to go after a man named Jonathan tonight.” He paused. “He owes Jake a lot of money.”

She closed the magazine and gave her full attention to the conversation. “Give me the details,” she said impatiently.

She knew he had a big grin on his face. He always knew what would catch her interest. “Jake gave him enough powder to supply his users for a month. Jonathan only had money for half and was supposed to pay the other half at the end of the month.”

“He didn’t pay.” Melissa interrupted knowing the answer.

“You got it.” He hesitated, “Jonathan is Kelly’s boyfriend that’s why he trusted him.”

Her tone changed. “Just because someone is dating your sister doesn’t mean they’re legit. Suppliers can be so naive sometimes.” She got straight to the point, “How much?”

“Thirty grand.” Dominick’s voice was serious. “This guy is worth it to Jake.”

Melissa thought for a moment. “I would have done it for twenty.” She teased; a smile forming on her face, her bright white teeth gleaming in the light.

A deep laugh came from Dominick. He gave her the information she would need, and Melissa jotted notes down in her organizer.

The sun was down, and the air was cooler with the breeze that blew around the city. Melissa walked around her bedroom, pulling out everything she would need for the night ahead. The hit was a typical shoot and go, so she packed lightly. She holstered a small automatic colt pistol around her ankle, pants covering it nicely; only a small outline showed under the leather. A .44 magnum was tucked into her pants at the small of her back. She picked up a couple short knives, placing them in holders, which was connected to her bicep. Then she put on a black trench coat to cover up the weapons completely; with the cold breeze in the air the coat wouldn’t look out of place.

It was now ten o’clock, and from what Dominick had said, Jonathan would be at his home cutting powder for a twelve o’clock run. She walked through the lower garage of her apartment complex to find her 1969 Dodge Charger parked neatly between the lines.

After a half hour, Melissa found herself in the cities ghetto. Turning left onto Belford Drive, she counted down the house numbers, trying to find thirty-three. Melissa pressed the brakes to have the car come to a halt, parking on the opposite street from where thirty-three was painted on the curb. While checking her weapons to make sure everything was in place and loaded, she tied her short black hair into a low ponytail. Melissa studied the street. It looked clear. But one could only be so careful.

Opening the car door, Melissa stepped out onto the street; her heels clicked against the cement. Seeing two lights on in the front of the house, she noticed the yellow and brown grass. Some shrubbery surrounded the house to make it seem like a normal family lived here. An angel doorknocker hung high with a message: ‘bless this house.’ Using it, the knocker made a banging noise loud enough for someone inside to hear. The outside was a fallacy of the kind of people that really lived in the house. The deception of a happy family faded as a tall, thin man opened the door. His eyes were blood shot and bugged out; long hair was stringy and greasy showing that bathing was not a high priority for him.

Words slurred out of the man’s mouth. “Whaat’d ush want?” She assumed ‘what do you want’ was too hard for the man to say. He swayed back and forth, slowly, as if unable to stand still.

Melissa looked the man over with her ruby red eyes. “I’m here to see Jonathan.” Her tone was strong, with a slight demanding attitude behind it. “We have business.”

Letting Melissa walk through the threshold, the man stepped aside. The clicking of her heels was muffled on the carpet; as she heard the door shut behind her, she let the grimy man lead the way. He led them into the living room to find a lanky man sitting on a faded brown couch.

He slowly rose to his feet letting his silk shirt fall past his hips. A strong mouth framed his triangular face. “Who is this?” He had a smooth, sly voice.

“I don’t know. She said you both had business.” The slurring had gotten worse; Melissa stared at her guide amazed he was still standing.

Jonathan looked from his friend to her; piercing blue eyes seemed to stare into her soul. A smirk formed on his face. “Who are you?” A glimmer of curiosity shimmered in his eyes.

She slowly licked her lips while looking him over. “I’m here to collect on behalf of Jake.” Melissa stood her ground, not letting her self become intimidated.

He let out a snort. “Jake sent a woman to do a man’s job?” It was more of an assertion than a question. “Jake can go screw himself.” The words were said with a snotty tone. Jonathan walked around the table towards Melissa, stopping a few steps away.

Melissa noticed that the other man had left. “Wrong answer.” She grinned at Jonathan, and with one swift movement Melissa’s coat dropped from her body. It fell to the floor without making a sound. Her hand reaching for one of the knives, she took a step forward and held the sharp object to Jonathan’s throat. His eyes were wide; the speed she possessed amazed him.

“One last chance.” The words came out slowly with an emphasis on each one. She pressed the knife onto his neck, a drop of blood falling and disappearing under his shirt.

His mouth curled into a smile. “The asshole isn’t worth spitting on.” Rapidly he grabbed her wrist, and pulled it behind her, the knife falling to the floor. “You should work on your reflexes.” He taunted, a laugh emerged that pierced her ears.

Anger slowly built inside of Melissa; she didn’t like to be held in a restraining way. Her stomach started to twist in knots while she tried to hold back her furry. Finally she relaxed herself and was able to think.

Jonathan smelled her hair in a slow seductive fashion, while wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her other arm captive. She realized his stupidity; he didn’t notice her gun pressed against his body.

Melissa’s long leg wrapped around his leg, making them both fall onto the floor. They both fumbled around trying to dominate each other. Melissa conquered by straddling Jonathan, forcing him onto his back. A snapping noise was heard as Melissa struck his jaw with her fist. Blood splattered on the beige carpet, and he struggled to break free. She pulled out her gun and shoved it onto his forehead; Jonathan froze as he felt the cold metal on his skin. Leering at the injured man lying below her, she gradually got to her feet to stand above him.

“Don’t underestimate a woman. I’m the executioner, and you’re a very unlucky man.” She pulled the trigger, and watched, as the bullet went flying through the air and into his head. She blinked as blood splattered; the face below her became deformed, and only an unrecognizable image remained.

Quickly, she shoved the gun into her pants and found her knife. Throwing on her coat, she flipped open her cell phone and called Dominick to let him know what went down. Dominick told her he would send the cleaners to get rid of the mess. Melissa went for the exit, but heard the knob turn, the door opening wide.

Dark eyes glared at her. “Who the hell are you?” The woman took a step closer to Melissa, realizing there was blood on her face. A frantic look formed on the woman’s face, and she ran, pushing Melissa aside to find Jonathan.

Melissa took the chance she had and ran out of the house. She dug in her pocket, finding her keys, and pressed a button to unlock the doors. While only a few steps from the side walk, she heard a loud bang. Her shoulder swung forward, and she fought to keep her balance; a bullet had penetrated her shoulder, causing the skin to tear and blood to flood out. More shots sounded, and bullets flew in the air. She got in her car and took off fast.

As she drove a few miles down the highway, with no warning of trouble, she slowed her speed from 110 to 70. Her breath began to slow. She shoved a bundle of hand towels against her shoulder to stop the blood from flowing. As she lit a cigarette, her mind was at ease, and her problems were over … for now.