Smile in the Dark
C. 2004 Grey K.
The long dimly lit strip of tarmac glistened wetly underfoot from the waning night rain, leaving streams of dun colored moisture streaming and pouring into clogged gutters. The night's air was a mélange of alternatively cloying and abrasive scents that clung to the palette, but none enough to make the sneeze hanging in the back of ones throat fully materialize. The district was run-down as it looked, both inside and out, cheap pre-fab plas, concrete and steel buildings squatting along both sides of the street, topping several stories on both sides, barely a handful peeking out of the shadow of the looming sky-scrapers in the horizon of the cityscape beyond.
Jets of steam hissed from the grille covered holes underfoot, the detritus of the heating system breakdowns all throughout the shoddy district. The wafting gossamer tendrils of steam clung and danced around the lithe form of a shadow as it stalked along the avenue, barely even stopping to pause as a series of motorbikes slashed through the drizzle, their riders whooping and calling hoarsely in their drunken revel. A pair of bright eyes flicked to the right, then the left as the bright crimson and white streaks passed through their vision, a slight tensing of the muscles around the eyes bringing the riders into sharp focus, slowing down their blurred features into jagged fragments of seconds as the striding form memorized their faces.
Keyan hunched his shoulders under his coat, his paws resting calmly in his pockets, his long hair pulled up tight under the ragged cap on his head that he had fished from a rubbish bin a half-mile away. The coat had come from a second hand shop the day before, and under it he wore a long one piece jumpsuit with no visible patches or logos on the charcoal surface of the suit, making it the perfect costume for his job. It also hid his slender frame for the most part, masking his lean, wide chested, narrow waist and wide hipped frame. His androgynous appearance was a plus; no one could tell if he was a short male or a tall female. Even without the heels on his boots he barely scraped 5 foot 9, neither ridiculously short, or overbearingly tall for a male his age and species.
In short he was the perfect candidate for hiding in plain sight, his height was unremarkable, his face a blend of features that could have made him as canine, feline or vulpine, his fur one of the most common colors it could be from the dye that would wash out the next time it hit water. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of long, sleek sunglasses, masking the fact they were bright and silver as a newly minted coin, much like the shock of white hair under the cap, which rested between his ears. From a distance he looked shorthaired, despite the nearly waist-length locks that rested snuggly under the ragged and dirty cap.
The blare of a neon sign met the slender male's eyes as he looked up ahead, his eidetic memory calling up the particulars of the establishment without even realizing he'd done it, seeing the hallways, exits, entrances and room schematics running through his mind in a blur of images and distances. The red signed building obviously had been a hotel at some point in its lifespan, but by this point was little more then a decaying tenement with a few less worn spots on the inside then the outside. A loud, raucous bar was settled on the first floor of the sagging, loose walled structure of plas, concrete and pitted, scratched windows. Keyan sniffed idly as he entered into the saloon on the first floor, smirking softly to himself in the shadows as he gazed around.
The patrons of the saloon barely even noticed him passing by, but he did garner a heavy-handed slap on the ass by a particularly intoxicated canine male that had evidently taken a shining to his backside, regardless of gender issues. The slender male picked his way to the bar, rapping his knuckles on the pitted, stained surface to attract the attention of the harried male behind the counter. The tall, broad, round gutted canine male perked an ear at the rapping, gazing sidelong at the short, slender male dressed all in black with sunglasses. His first thought was cop, but looking at the ragged state of his dress and intensity of the eerily bright eyes behind the sunglasses swayed him away from cop and swiftly into "bad news".
Keyan's paw laid a scrap of paper on the bar-top, sliding it over to the looming male, who hesitantly picked the dirty slip of paper up and opened it, still keeping his eyes locked on the almost white irises surveying him from under the dark lenses. A picture stared back at him from the ragged slip of a hardcopy, folded neatly around a very large denominational slip of jack in very good local cred. The tall canine's yellowed eyes went large and round, his muzzle quickly snapping back closed as he shoved the bundle into the pocket of his apron and looked at the smirking male on the other side of the bar.
Keyan's brow arched slightly in time with the questioning perk of his large ear, his bright eyes boring into the canine's gaze, making the large male's eyes water as the shorter male didn't blink for what seemed an unnatural length of time. The canine startled at the sharp tap of a long, thin, sharp clawed finger on the bar with a soft tic tic tic of noise, the arch of the brow over the intense eyes getting more pronounced. The barmale jerked his head toward the narrow, dilapidated set of stairs. A slight clearing of the slender male's throat made him wince, holding up a pair of fingers at the unasked question. For once the entire time a slight smile tugged at the corners of the light eyed male's muzzle as he nodded and swiftly cut across the room to the shallow stairs.
The number 2 was hanging off the door by a very tenuous thread as Keyan eyed the lock, slipping his fingertip around it pensively. He finally removed a slender, flexible rectangular length of steel from his sleeve and inserted it into the jamb of the door; exerting a slight pressure and feeling the door give rather then hearing it. He smirked softly to himself as he simply tossed the slip of metal away, hearing it slide into the shadows. He gripped the knob, breathing once, twice, thrice, then throwing the door open, gliding inside like a wraith and shutting the door behind him with a click. His lips parted in a grin, exposing his white fangs as he saw the pile of bodies on the bed, 3 of them to be exact, 2 females and a male, who was conveniently on top with his back to the door.
There was a whistle of steel as Keyan pulled his paw from his pocket, the long, slender double-edged knife springing into being like a cheap wand being pulled from a smiling magician's hat. In his other paw a small canister sat patiently as his index finger caressed the trigger softly, almost lovingly, that grin never leaving his muzzle. The first sign something was wrong in the room was the wide eyes and scream of the female underneath the two above her, the terror being mistaken for pleasure as the male facing her didn't stop his eager, bucking thrusts into the second female sandwiched between them.
The male barely registered the pain as the fingers not gripping the small canister locked in his hair and thrust his head forward and down angling his skull just perfectly as the knife jabbed into the right side of his throat, point first, tearing through his fur and skin like a hot skewer through butter. The first gush of arterial blood was deflected by the angle of his own muzzle as the knife skated across his throat, severing one carotid artery, then the jugular, then the windpipe, then the other carotid before being withdrawn and wiped clean on the sheets in one smooth motion. The thrusting male was dead before his hips could even get the signal to stop moving from his brain. The deadweight fell forward, trapping his two partners under the freshly butchered husk of meat, dousing them in choking gushes of crimson.
Keyan paused for a split second, his eyes gazing at the writhing pile of scarlet soaked fur, the gaping muzzles that gasped for enough breath to scream, that white grin getting wider as he simply thrust the canister in his paw toward those gaping, screaming sets of lungs and sprayed, the pale green nerve gas would render them both unconscious almost instantly but he didn't stop to wait for it to happen as he slid to the window like a shade and popped it open, looking down at the alley behind the hotel with a wry giggle, simply jumping from the sash and tucking his knees as his foot-paws hit the concrete 15 feet below.
The slender male smirked softly once more as he stripped off his coat, cap and bodysuit, tossing them in a large rubbish bin as he walked, flicking open a small napalm pod and playfully sweeping it into the bin with an over arm hook-shot. He shook out his long, silvery white hair, the smirk never leaving his face as he selected a spot on the brick-faced building on one side of the alley and simply thrust the long knife into the gaping of the brickwork, flexing his arm and hearing the blade snap off from the handle with a clear musical chime. He tossed the useless handle at the skull of a ragged male sleeping in a box nearby, giggling as he hear the clear thunk of metal on meat.
As the moon slowly drifted into view from behind a bank of sickly green clouds Keyan shoved a card into the slot on a phone terminal, shutting the booth door behind him and waiting as the line clicked and bleeped, before a low, bass male voice issued from the crackling speaker, "Yes?"
Keyan smirked darkly to himself, "Packet 345-Alpha is silent."
"Good work, as always. We weren't expecting it to be done for another 36 hours. Witnesses?"
"Three."
"Will they be able to give a positive ident?"
"It would greatly surprise me."
"As always your work for the magistrate general and Emperor is flawless. As a bonus for your 358th confirmed silencing while in the employ of the reign we will be issuing you an extra million creds. Good work, as always."
Keyan's muzzle split into a soft, shy smile as he smoothed his hair, "Thank-you father."
He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a long, sleek black metal spike, driving it into the guts of the com-unit and watching as dark tendrils of smoke started to wreath upward before turning and walking into the night.