Chapter 6Mature

As soon as I get home (home being a rickety apartment) I quickly and swiftly check the room for bugs. Not cockroaches or anything, but any kind of hidden devices that could be planted to spy on me.

It's happened before, believe me. 

After I've secured the premises I board up the window and add a few extra locks to the door. 

Paranoid, I know.

I sit back on a lumpy couch, satisfied with my work, and take a look at the bag Tabs had given me.

There's the fake book with a Glock in it and some spare ammo hidden in a pencil case.


I toss it under the bed (if you could call it that) and set up a bunsen burner by the only outlet in the room.

Anyone who wasn't an assassin would think I'm cooking up some drugs, but I'm just whipping up a new batch of toxins.

I personally don't think using a gun in a school  is the stealthiest plan of action. A fast-acting, hard to detect poison or strangling the target in a locker or something would be just a bit less likely to draw attention.

Plus, a school is a close-range situation. Hand-to-hand combat is the best option for engagement.

Not to mention the fact that I like hand-to-hand combat.

I know, you would hardly expect someone as cultured as me to enjoy beating people up, but you have to understand that fencing and archery lessons get pretty boring once you hit Olympic levels.

And there's only so much sword-fighting you can do in the field. 

Once I've gotten a good vial or two of lethal I strap them onto my person, right beside the throwing knives, and lie on the bed, hoping for some kind of sleep.

I've been awake for way too long, and the last thing I need is to be sleep-deprived.

I roll around, feeling springs underneath me, and eventually give up.

I open my backpack and contemplate doing my homework but, upon examining it closely, realize that would be degrading.

Instead I get up, head out of the building, and walk the now-moonlit path to the school.

I might as well try and get my hands on some records.

The End

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