WPC12 - Entry 5

The train came out of the long tunnel into the snow country. I sighed. The darkness from the tunnel disappeared from around me. The darkness was my comrade. We formed a symbiotic relationship. It provided the shadows, which were my playground, my cover. In turn, people like me used that blanket of darkness to commit acts, which made the darkness what it was.  

I looked around the Dining car, and saw no one else. I was alone. I glanced at my watch: 11:53. It was almost time to move. I stood up, left my tip on the table, and walked to my room. My heart fluttered. This was my first mission. I didn't want to screw it up. 

I shook my head. Doubt was not needed. Doubt was not wanted. It was dross among the refined gold that was my skill, my mission, my life. Upon reaching my room, I slid the door shut silently. I walked to the bathroom and ripped off my suit; revealing the black fatigues underneath. I removed the tight fitting wig and reversed it, showing a new color: black. Black to blend with shadows. Black to conceal my own hair color, which was an unforgettable shade of rust red. 

In my line of work, being unforgettable is... not recommended. 

I checked my equipment. The light of the moon gleamed off the smooth black surfaces. The irony always struck me. How could instruments of death look so beautiful? A quick glance out the window showed the crest of the moon gradually being eclipsed by a wisp of cloud. From the looks of it, the moon would be covered by a mass of dark clouds within the next few minutes. The wind was moving fast, carrying the clouds at a prodigious rate. I couldn't wait long if I wanted to take advantage of this new-found ally. 

I slipped from my room and snuck down the hallway to where the target slept. It was not a very difficult task. This train was new and it's floorboards were not yet creaky. 

My target had chosen a fine place to die. 

Room 37. A brass knocker in the center of the door. A "Do not Disturb" sign hung on the doorknob. I chuckled softly. I would not disturb him if all went as planned. He would sleep on, oblivious to the fact that he would never wake up. I tested the knob. It was locked. I expected as much and was prepared for such a development. Out of my pocket came a set of lock-picks, I chose the correct size for the job, and carefully inserted the tool into the lock. 

After a moment of twisting and wiggling the pick inside the lock I heard a satisfying *click* and I eased the door open. I glanced around inside and cursed. 

The target was gone. 

The End

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