Crisp yellow leaves cracked under the gentle steps of Mr. Hattori as he sneaked laboriously into the backyard passing along line of the ornamental pine and cone trees. An astonishing justification of his sun-sign -Gemini, his life could be defined as exhibiting two facets; one that he lived during the day, the other secretive of the night.
In the wee hours of the night, donning the hat of a hired mercenary, the lonely clerk; one whose receding hairline, cheap ironed shirt with pants pulled up high defined him as a simple man, now brandished a weapon.Sitting in his office the day before, it wasn't unexpected as he had been informed earlier, he received a call mentioning the name, place and the way the work was to be done.The cold hearted murderer didn't think twice before he agreed.
A skilled locksmith, it didn't take him long to get through the door making his way towards the woman's room. Over the creaking floor board it was a shame no one could witness the 'show', as he used to call each of his assignment. The thought of an assistant, a disciple; a protege who could view his acts of kill, had long been dismissed in the skeptic brain of Mr. Hattori. Such thoughts had often made him realize the armor of a sociopath his helpless self was stuck in.
Reaching near the bedside ramp leading up to the woman's bed, he pulled a plastic packet sealed industrially containing matted black brown pills given to him by the employer. It was a daily routine of the woman to have water at least once before the dawn, a fact, very well known by the employer. He slipped two pills in her glass placed at the night stand and vanished from the room as swiftly as he came.
In the wee hours of the night, donning the hat of a hired mercenary, the lonely clerk; one whose receding hairline, cheap ironed shirt with pants pulled up high defined him as a simple man, now brandished a weapon.Sitting in his office the day before, it wasn't unexpected as he had been informed earlier, he received a call mentioning the name, place and the way the work was to be done.The cold hearted murderer didn't think twice before he agreed.
A skilled locksmith, it didn't take him long to get through the door making his way towards the woman's room. Over the creaking floor board it was a shame no one could witness the 'show', as he used to call each of his assignment. The thought of an assistant, a disciple; a protege who could view his acts of kill, had long been dismissed in the skeptic brain of Mr. Hattori. Such thoughts had often made him realize the armor of a sociopath his helpless self was stuck in.
Reaching near the bedside ramp leading up to the woman's bed, he pulled a plastic packet sealed industrially containing matted black brown pills given to him by the employer. It was a daily routine of the woman to have water at least once before the dawn, a fact, very well known by the employer. He slipped two pills in her glass placed at the night stand and vanished from the room as swiftly as he came.
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