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hi this page is really just a waste of time so sorry for wasting your time. hope you like my story

Don’t look back

The night was silent. The car driving through the large town purred quietly as the moon shone brightly above. Neon lights illuminated the street and people stumbled around in a state of drunkenness as the black Bentley pulled up outside the club.

This was not how he’d wanted it to happen. He preferred working under the cover of darkness in a secluded area, but it had to be done tonight. Right now…

He was dressed for the night, with a sparkly disco jacket and tight denim jeans he would never wear again. He would not be noticed.

The professional hit man was stopped at the door and his preferred weapon of choice was taken off him in what the bouncer said was regulation. This was expected and he carried with him, always a long switch blade which was concealed in a compartment in his left shoe. The job would be gruesome but he was used to it, and had to be.

OWNER OF POPULAR CLUB MURDERED

In the early hours of the morning, a well known club owner and notorious drug smuggler was murdered while working at Jive. Bruce McConelly was stabbed five times in the back and dragged into a supplies closet, where he was poo pusher found by an employee around 4am. The employee notified police straight away. The employee is recovering from trauma and was not available for an interview. The motive has not yet been discovered. LAPD Director General, Jack Bolton confirmed they have not yet apprehended anyone for the murder and for anyone with any information to come forward. Call 0800MURDER if you saw anything suspicious last night. Story by June Cummings.

The hit man, who’s real name was Anthony, chuckled with glee. He knew he would complete the job, but no one can ever be certain they will make it out. There were no prints and no sign he was ever there. An acquaintance of the employer was even bribed to give him an alibi in the unlikely chance that he may need one. ‘The perfect kill’, Anthony thought as he pinned the article up on the wall amongst all the others.

People picture hit men as being strong, exceedingly tall and overly handsome. Anthony however was a plump Hawaiian man who had moved to Los Angeles when he was just sixteen. He’d had little knowledge of American ways and slowly had to pick up the language.

He was mad at everyone for this life he had been dragged into. Anthony decided right then what he wanted to do, oh and why not get paid to do it?

Anthony sighed as he looked back on his life. Days in America were painfully slow compared to his life back home. Oh, how he missed that place. He shouldn’t be doing this. The money was extravagant but this life was killing him, as well as others. His mind was made up.

He decided to drive past the crime scene, for old time’s sake. He took down the articles, packed all his belongings in a small travel bag. The snoopy landlord would soon realize he was gone.

The drive was quick and he felt no sadness as he parked his car in the airport with the keys in the ignition. He had no friends, so he would not be missed. He didn’t even look back as the explosion went off behind him.

As Anthony boarded the plane, he took one last look at a place he thought he would never see again….

By Chris