It had been 20 years. My efforts in the proficiency of which I completed contracts had brought me acclaim and attention within Yevrox. The man who originally brought me to the organization had left to me everything he had and with it several contacts and connections. He had the foresight to keep his most valuable items out of their reach, or just hard enough to get that they were overlooked. The Bartender, acting as the executor of his will, had told me the location of his items as he respected his friend's last wishes.
Jonas as he wanted me to call him had seen me as a remnant of his latent friend. And even though I barely knew either of them I still valued the modicum of comfort I had felt around them. After all, he had helped me in more ways than one. So in an effort of remembrance or just plain respect, I kelt the rather extensive armoury of weaponry dashing my original plan of meeting up with a supplier to sell them off. They were naturally pissed and required a reminder packaged in lead sent to them to cool off.
My right hand had been the recipient of neurological surgery. The silver card given to me by the man was apparently in such high regard that upon it being shown I was put ahead of every person within the lobby and taken to the operating room. The surgeon who was operating in a bootleg operating room on a patient was startled by the front desk worker practically busting down the door. This resulted in a scalpel going into the knocked-out patient who was in the middle of what looked like a fragile operation if the open chest and rising heart rate were any indication.
The surgeon was rightfully upset until the front desk worker showed the card while pointing at me. The surgeon then placed the patient onto a gurney moving them to the corner of the room scalpel still burrowed in their stomach region. As I was in shock the surgeon had asked what I required with such professionalism that if I hadn't been witness to it I wouldn't believe that he had practically stabbed and left a man to die in his operating room off to the side.
Upon telling him of my injury the surgeon took off my gloves pausing once seeing the symbol, but continued his evaluation. I was guided to lie down and soon found myself no longer part of the waking world. Upon waking up I found my right hand had more feeling in it. Upon scanning the room I noticed that the patient who was originally operated on was nowhere to be seen. With only a blood splatter on the floor where the gurney was last placed.
This surgeon after entering the room noticed my gaze and profusely apologized as if the stain was something I'd hold against him forever. When I tried to get up the surgeon advised against putting pressure on my right hand for a few days to make sure it healed correctly. They then handed me my jacket, and gloves then gave me the card while handling my possessions with utmost care.
Little did I know the man who handed me the card was the owner of this little clinic in exchange for sponsoring the surgeon's education. I didn't know at the time, and I would be surprised if anyone else did, as the surgeon practically ran the place in everything but name. But at the time I wasn't focused on that more so on not getting a strike by failing the monthly quota.
I trained to get better at shooting with my left, the man came to help frequently but was sporadic in doing so. Eventually, I was comfortable enough to go and complete my contract. My work paid off and the job went perfectly. The man whose name I then knew as Ben was happy for me and took me out to some shady, but delicious food served in some downtown alley restaurant. The place was unquestioningly used as an illegal gambling ring and for other such activities, but damn was that steak good, still don't know if that was because of the drugs I later found out I'd ingested because I never went there again.
So I continued onward training and putting my skills to the test via trial through fire. I enjoyed my work more and had been amassing somewhat of a fortune due to the ever-increasing price that came to hire my services as my fame increased. But I had one goal to try to get Ben out of whatever debt he owed. And before I could get enough money to pay it off he was executed. A group of people who bore Yevrox's symbol on their uniforms came in while Ben was having a drink.
I was at the job board searching for something as my fame hadn't yet had me drenched with requests. I noticed too late what was happening as one of the men took out a revolver aiming it at his head and started listing his "crimes". Ben looked them dead in the eyes unflinching and when they asked for his last words he looked at me and said "You tried kid, but sometimes life rolls that way." Before yanking the man with the revolver arm towards him and slamming his head on the table.
It was barely a second before the other four members took out their sidearms and rattled him with bullets.
The bartender witnessing the whole event had clenched fists as he watched. I considered jumping in myself. God, I wanted to. But what good would it do? Ben wanted to die he didn't even have the will remaining to do a contract. What good would being on the run do for him? I wanted to pay off his debt as a thank you, but I didn't intend to prematurely end my life to buy him an extra day or two.
And even now I still stand by that decision.
Although Ben died it wasn't as though the world would stop for me to gather myself. So I turned back and continued inspecting some contracts for a good job. And so life continued. The bartender after taking a week off informed me of Ben leaving everything not in his now empty Yevrox storage to me.
What came was quite a bit of money, favours from some surprisingly influential people, blackmail on those influential people along with many others and an entire armoury full of weapons. What I wondered most however was how Ben was able to somehow get an APC and keep it hidden.
Eventually, I came upon the documents telling of Ben's debt and it was massive. Whatever Ben did was worth 10,000,000,000$. It didn't take a genius to know I wouldn't have been able to pay off his debt and Ben knew that. However, the most useful thing I gained from Ben's death would be ownership of the clinic where the surgeon who operated on my hand worked. A lot, and I mean A LOT of people from all walks of life went to receive treatment there because, unlike most other shady clinics, they had a registered doctor.
After testing all the weapons Ben had I replaced some of the guns I was currently using with them. Without much else to do, I continued with my contracts. My fame grew as I continued testing and improving my skills while taking increasingly more dangerous jobs. I started getting hunted by other killers who wanted to make a name or claim the bounty that was on my head after burning a politician alive on live television.
I had become somewhat of a legend. People were paying so much money that I could probably buy an island, a yacht, hire a company to build another mansion, hire a private security detail and still have more money than I would know what to do with. However, I was past my prime as I had turned 40 a few months ago. Unfortunately for everyone who ruffled the feathers of someone who was able to hire me, I still did a damn good job. But permanent injuries built up through close calls and pure chance had left their mark on my performance.
One that that hadn't worsened however was my instincts. And I was already feeling weird about my current job at the time. My instincts told me something was up and I followed them. I was showing more caution in everything I did than I ever had in the week I scouted out my target location. I couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching me and it Never went away. I was more on edge than I ever had been on a job, and because of that, I was going to call it. While my phone was ringing I felt off and shifted to look out the window as a Bang rang out followed by the ripping of flesh I had grown accustomed to hearing.
I found a hole in my shoulder as I was thrown backwards landing onto the floor. This wasn't the first time I was thrown down however and lessened the impact. Rolling to the side I heard the crackle of gunfire as a hellfire of bullets came through the wall of my apartment. Unholstering my sidearm I moved to an ambush position in my kitchen as I took out a shotgun from the cabinet and started wrapping up my wound. I reached further in and found myself holding three claymores as I activated and moved to position them at my front door, and window and angled the third to cover the front door but allow the first one to go off beforehand.
There was a stash of various explosives I'd brought along for the contract that I chucked into various rooms to fish out anyone hiding. Using the various distracting explosions and debris now airborne as a smokescreen I tried locating the sniper's location, but kept an eye on my immediate surroundings.
I was soon proven right in my decision to clear the surrounding rooms with explosives when a fully uniformed, armoured, and most importantly wounded man tried to lean out a doorway to throw a grenade. Unfortunately for them, these walls were thin as all hell attributed to this being a cheap motel with barely insulated walls, let alone being free from termites. A blast from my shotgun proved that when I heard a loud raspy gurgle followed by a thud that was barely audible due to the ringing in my ears. The ones stationed outside my door decided that now was a good time to breach. What they didn't account for was the first claymore that blew the first man to bits and turned the squad mate's arm behind him into Swiss cheese.
The sniper that I had been trying to locate revealed themselves after they whiffed a shot and clipped my right arm. Luckily they were across the street so as I started firing at them with my pistol I nailed their left arm. The sniper promptly ducked behind cover probably to bandage it up. Feeling like I was getting a hold of the situation I slowly maneuvered around my kitchen counter as I constantly surveyed everything around me. What I hadn't expected however was the person with the mangled arm to suicide charged me with multiple unpinned grenades both in hand and anywhere he could put them.
In doing so their legs were promptly eviscerated by the second claymore, but despite his injury, he leaped at me with whatever remaining functionality was left as they held me in a death grip. And as he was bleeding out he looked at me with an unblinking gaze and a death grip." I soon realized that I wouldn't be able to tear this guy off me thanks to my weakened arms from the bullet wounds. Looking over to the side I watched as the sniper graced the ledge of the building once more and as a parting gift I let off one more round that had them crumple for the trouble they caused. All that was left was a man smiling at me in a blood-loss, adrenaline-aided hysteria. I had a smile too as I watched the enemies and people I pissed off come to bite me in the ass.
That was one of the reasons I never retired. Someone would come to bother me no matter if I disappeared to some off-the-grid bunker, so what better way than to go out fighting? And as I made peace with my death a split-second bang sounded before I found myself in what I presumed to be the afterlife.
I now found myself weightless in a black void with none of my senses with me. If anything this just proved that god probably didn't exist as I wasn't welcomed by god or any other ethereal being, and it honestly wasn't a surprise. However, if there was one I didn't want to show up insane if some being did show up, and it wasn't like I had anything better to do, so I reminisced on my life.
I didn't know how long it had been and I had reminisced on my life so much that I could write an autobiography by memory. What's more, I could view events I wouldn't even have known at the time they happened. The times I was drugged and kidnapped or just regular blackout drunk and had no right to know what I did. Turns out my tendencies come out when I'm intoxicated as I burned down a pharmacy, and 2 apartment complexes. Coincidently I also firebombed a police cruiser that tried to stop me with the officers still in it. That was only the beginning as I then proceeded to go on a pyromaniac rampage as entire city blocks went up in flames as I at some point got my hands on a flamethrower.
That explains why I was so hated by the French government, aside from everything else.
It was like watching a movie as if anything my life wasn't boring. At least for me as I'm certain people didn't have the patience to be scoping in on a target window for hours on end waiting for the perfect shot. What was interesting however is that I was able to view things I couldn't possibly know. Turns out my manager for contracts had sold me out on multiple occasions. But they kept failing so spectacularly for the people he sold me out to that they had someone assassinate him in an act of incredible karma.
The Bartender, Jonas as he asked me to call him after Ben's death, had been pulling so many strings to get me successful that Yevrox would flay him alive publicly if they found out. Which probably explained his disappearance after I reached the peak of my career. What was the most interesting thing however was Yevrox itself.
They had been sending hit squads at me periodically. I had somehow made myself a problem for the organization as I kept unintentionally messing up their plans without even knowing it. I liked to leave no loose ends and Yevrox had a very nasty habit of playing both sides. So when I went beyond and cleaned up making sure the enemy was thoroughly dead including associates and those affiliated it ruffled some feathers in the organization.
What had them come after me hard was when I killed one of the members of their wannabe shadow government. It was a mission in the Middle East where I was tasked to kill a bunch of insurgent leaders for a very large sum of money. Wanting to get on the contractor's call list I hunted down multiple insurgent leaders not on the contract to send a message. Unfortunately for both me and Yevrox, one of them was quite a proven competent individual who got them quite a bit of money. And when I eliminate the cause, a new problem can't crop up which means less issued contracts, which means less money for Yevrox.
But they couldn't just execute me like Ben, no. I was somewhat of a living legend and it wouldn't exactly inspire confidence to all affiliated to kill the most profitable and arguably best member in the organization.
Eventually, however, I ran out of things to think about and comprehend.
so I waited
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a̷͙̥̦̺̬͊n̶̖̯̯͔̙͈̗̝̎̀͊̾̎͘̕͜d̷̹͕̜͙̯͙̫͔̺̪̈̄̋͒̓͗̓̇̅̌̔̄ ̶̡̧̡̹͉̟͙̭̯̘͔̹̙̙͝w̷̹̻̮͔̹̜̞̙̍̊̈́͠ȃ̷̡͕͔͕͔̰͙̤͛̑̏̓̉ỉ̵̧̢̢̢̡̨̻̟̻̤̙̠̺̫̀̾̇̅͑̐̅̋̎̈t̶̢͖̣͖͕̩͍̃͗̏̃́̂̎͆̈́͐̐̏͒͠e̵͓̝̱̋̃̍̏̂̅̿͑̍̀̀̄̓͠ḑ̷̨̨̺̩̬̹̉͒̒̈́̀͐̀̚̕ ̵͇̟̜̽͛͐͐̐̎͒̕̕s̵̛̛̬̤̾̒̿̿̉̄̈̓͂͘ở̷̥̪͓̤̥̫̓̎̓͌̓̔̏͊͆͠m̴͍͈̖̹̱̪͇̝̓́͆̈́̋͂̃͑͌̇̽̆͑͝͝e̶̪̩̺͈͍̣̜͎̥̠͊̒̇̔̓̋̒́͊͗̊̿͘͝͝ ̵̹̃ṃ̵̬̯̞̫̖̠͖͑̓͗͒o̶̡̫̭̠̪͇̙̺̮̙̾͛͑̆̇̐͗̕͜r̶̢͎̺͓̫̝̞͓̩̻̙̾͒̈́̽̓̈́́̊ȩ̷̨̛͓͓̭̥̌͒́̌̃̓́̈́͘͝͝
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I was brought out of my mindless almost soullessly drifting-like state when an ethereal being on a golden thrown that shined with the light of a thousand suns appeared. I would've hissed in discomfort as my previously pitch-black void was now illuminated by the power of one of those high-powered flashlights they sell at Home Depot that shined directly into my face. However not having any sort of mouth or limbs at all prevented that reality.
It spoke? More like boomed as their words rang in my mind no doubt would've caused me permanent hearing damage should I have hearing too damage.
"You, mortal shall be receiving a choice as all do."
"You may either go to the great beyond and based on your effects on others and overall the world go to your faith heaven or hell."
"Or you may decide to live anew and enter the cycle of life and take up a new vessel, but this is not all. Depending on your achievements you may be given gifts such as increased mental abilities, or cursed with a weak body."
The being despite having no face gazed at me as I felt its pressure buckle down on me. However, I was not a fool or one to crack under pressure so I took my time. I was an atheist so I was at best going to be erased from existence, or at worst stuck in this void for all eternity. And even if I had believed in some religion I was involved in countless murders, assassinations, bombings and terrorist attacks I would be placed in the deepest pits of whatever hell they had.
However what I would consider a standard successful job was something that would take teams months to plan out. My standards were high and I made sure to push myself to get it as high as can be. I had overcome impossible odds and if that didn't count for something I didn't know what would.
As I made my choice the being nodded before seemingly flashing out of existence. Before I could assess what happened and look for oddities I found myself with a projection-like image that said
[Initialize? (Y)/N D279 23H 59M 59s]
I imagined myself pressing the button and as I did so I felt woozy before I felt myself gain somewhat of a form. I promptly didn't care as I collapsed on whatever the floor of the void is and fell unconscious