“Folks I now present you the talented magician, Thomas Carter!” A short round of applause echoed through the tiny casino as I entered through the curtains. I took out 3 small juggling balls and started to juggle, the crowd quickly grew tired and so I had my assistant throw me another, and another and kept throwing me another whenever the crowd grew restless. I was now juggling 8 balls, more than I was comfortable with. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my cheek, my hands started to shake. I had to stop this immediately. My assistant could see that I was struggling and silently told me to pass the balls off. I started to throw him balls, threw him 1, 2, and then the third, but the third was too late and two balls collided resulting in 6 balls dropping to the floor. It took awhile for the crowd in their drunken stupor to realize what had happened. I looked around and at the back I saw my boss with a scowl on his face turn and walk out of the casino. Beer bottles shattered around the stage, so I quickly packed up and left.
As I slouched down the hall I heard some commotion in my boss’s office. In there, my boss was screaming into the phone. With a red face he slammed down the phone. He took a few deep breaths and walked to the door. I figured I should keep moving but I didn’t make it 10 feet away from the door before I was called into his office. Butterflies instantly took flight in my stomach. He sat me down and took a deep breath and said “Thomas, this isn’t how I wanted things to turn out but,” paused then said “We’ve had to make some cuts and you are not pulling in as much cash as others so I’m sorry but I have to let you go.” Too stunned to say anything I went back to slouching and left the building. Outside I sat on a rock and just stayed there, didn’t move, didn’t do anything. I slowly thought about my life, unemployed, married, and two kids. I decided I would just sit, not move just sit. 5 minutes later I heard yelling and 4 guards tossed out a man named John. We had never been to parties with each other, or had a beer at another’s house, but we knew each other. He brushed off his jacket and looked at me, and in his husky voice he growled, “You get canned too?” I sighed, and mumbled a “Yes.” He sighed and took out a cell phone; he asked for something closed it and walked to the curb. Within seconds a hummer pulled up, he got in and looked back at my depressed body and said “I’ll call you.” Bewildered at I stared at the car as it pulled away from the building.
I opened the door to my house and my kids rushed straight to my arms. They lightened me up a bit, but not enough to cover my sorrow. I look around my house, little TV in the corner with a worn-in couch facing it, ruby red walls, chandelier on the ceiling, it was shabby, but home. Knowing we might lose it because of me made me sick, suddenly the bedroom door opened and my gorgeous wife walked out. She quickly ran over to me and gave me a kiss. She then asked “How was work honey?” “Great,” I lied. She noticed my troubled expression but didn’t say anything. I relaxed on the couch and turned on my TV. Flicked to “Two and a Half Men” and within seconds I was laughing. I forgot about my troubles within an hour. I slowly drifted off, problems forgotten... For now
I woke up well into the morning, around 11:30. I had left the TV on last night and playing right now was some infomercial asking for money for a charity. I had never asked for money, I couldn’t stand taking others hard earned money because they had emotions. I let out a deep sigh and collapsed back onto the couch. A soft rumble tickled my back and a distinct ring was barely audible, I lazily got and started searching for my phone. I reached deep into my couch and filed through all the little Batman toys that my kids adored so much. Finally I felt my phone, flipped it open and answered with a sharp, “Hello?” “Thomas, it’s John. I’m waiting outside for you get your sh!t and meet me outside” answered the growling voice from the man name John Biggs. I threw on a pair of torn jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt and hurried out the door. In my driveway was the glamorous hummer I saw him leave in earlier. I hoped in the back, and there was John, in a tailored suit. I get in and I’m basically sitting on a couch, there is a Plasma TV in front of me and a driver in the front. John rolled up the window that separated us and the driver. Still stunned at where he got all this, he didn’t hear John talking. “Thomas,” came a whisper “Thomas!” came once again, but louder “THOMAS!” boomed John. Thomas shook out of his trance. “Wh-wh-who are you?” John sighed and said “I used to be a marine, one of the best, killing was a past-time for me. I hated my general though, couldn’t stand him, he had no sense. He treated innocents like terrorists, so I knocked him out. I was ‘spose to spend 10 years in prison but I was released upon request. Stunned, I drifted out of the prison ignoring the catcalls of all the men who have turned homosexual because of prison. A man who went by the name ‘Captain Price’ picked me up in a car and hired me as a mercenary. I fought with them for 3 years and established a lot of connections.” My heart started to pound I was in the car with a cold-blooded killer. A man who I’m sure had broken the law thousands of times. I think John saw how uncomfortable I was and he quickly started explaining our job. The first thing he said was “Nothing illegal but,” and that just rang the bells in my head. I kept thinking that I’m going to die, sweating dribbled down the side of my head. He explained it out, and I calmed down a lot. It was easy, we were borrowing money from a man named Donovan, investing in a company that John had been watching for a month or so. He said the company would take off, we’d be millionaires and we’d pay Donovan back, easy right? It wasn’t charity, nor was it illegal, so I felt fine. I relaxed got comfortable flipped on the TV and John and I had a killer time watching the football game. We arrived at this glassy skyscraper. Confused I walked in, thinking ‘Why would a man want to live here?’ I entered the building trailing behind John who walked confidently to the elevator. We got to floor 52 and got out. I instantly fainted because a huge, loaded rifle was pointed at my face. 2 minutes later I woke up in an office, sitting beside John facing a man who appeared mid fifties. They stood up in unison shook hands and John got up to leave. He then saw me, smiled and said “Thomas my boy, you’re up! Time to go.” I slowly followed him down the hall; I looked at the men, all sour-faced and armed. ‘Where are we?’ was my only thought. The car ride back was a blur. At my house I looked at John and asked who that was, he sighed and told me who it was. The man was a mafia kingpin. Not just a petty theft one though, he was responsible for thousands of murders. I instantly started panicking. I just committed a crime; I had associated myself with a cold-blooded killer. Sweat poured down my brow, I will never have a clean record, and I will never be regarded as a man o look up to. I walked in breathing deeply, my wife, still in uniform, gun and all, saw me and quickly expressed her concern. I lied saying I went for a jog. She dismissed it quickly and went on to tell me about her day. She said they were following a man named “Donovan.” My heart thudded louder than a base drum at a Kiss concert. “Wh-who-who i-is that?” I stuttered. “A crime boss, a real back-stabber. He has never made a clean deal he always ensures something goes wrong. The fellow on the other side of the deal usually ends up dead.” The walls slowly started to enclose on me and the room is getting awfully hot. My head started spinning and through the daze I heard my wife continue “Anyways, two men walked into his office today, we were unable to identify them but we are searching for them.” I answered with whatever words came to my head. It came out something like “Trouble. Is trouble what they will get in?” My wife gave me a strange look and continued but that worried look remained on her face, “The-they would probably just be detained and investigated but if any deals were made they would be imprisoned. Why do you ask?” But by the time the question was given I was lying on the floor, head ringing and spinning. Before I blacked out I saw my troubled wife leaning over me holding my forehead.
I woke up 5 or 6 hours later, in a hospital bed. I slowly opened my eyes, slowly, very slowly. It felt like there was some man holding them down. “He’s up!” came a confident voice to my left. There stood a nurse smiling, “Your wife has been worried sick about you. She’s in the restroom; she’ll be out any second.” Through the cracks of my eyes I saw my wife enter, still in uniform, the dark blue FBI uniform that will be responsible for my imprisonment. I instantly started panicking. The nurse instantly called for help screaming orders for instruments I had never heard of. The white room got whiter as doctors filed in to tend to me...
Two days later I found myself at home, sitting on my bed, head empty, just sort of drifting. The door opened and there stood my wife encouraging me to throw on some clothes. I had to see a phycaritrist. Life just kept on floating by...
It was 3 and a half weeks after my arrangement with John. Today a letter arrived from John. I tore open the seal and inside was a check, for $25, 000. I flipped out, adrenaline rushed through me. I instantly headed for the bank. Life was going good. Our deal was paying off and this was only the first payment. The next one was an estimated $100,000. I decided to seek out John, maybe have a beer or two. I called him up and he answered, “John my good pal, how’s it going?” which was answered with a “Great! Guess what, today I’m meeting with Donovan, we’ll be paying him off sooner than we expected.” “That’s great news! Anyways, I was wonderin if you wanted to have a beer or two, you-know celebrate.” I replied “I would love too but I’m busy all day, maybe tomorrow.” John answered. “Alright, seeya later,” I flipped the phone closed and plopped down onto the couch. I stared at my little TV, and made a decision. Half-an-hour later I returned with my brand new, gorgeous, Plasma TV. I paid the workers to mount it on the wall and get my cable hooked up. Within the hour I was watching the football game in full HD. I let out a deep sigh and relaxed. My wife came home tired, looked up and saw me smiling standing beside or honking TV. “O MY GOD!!!” my wife shrieked, “how can we afford this?” “It’s on me,” I replied. She gave me a big kiss and hug and ran into the bedroom. It was about 11:30 PM so I called John up. We talked a bit, but I got to my point. I asked about the meeting and John seemed a bit uneasy, he said Donovan seemed angry at our success. I dismissed it and flipped on CNN. What I saw made me spill my beer. It read “4 leaders of an upcoming company called “Chronblaze” were brutally murdered at 10:30 tonight. There were no survivors and as a result the company is folding.” That was my company, my grasp at fortune, and I know who screwed it up. Donovan, that son of a bitch is going down. I told my wife I was going out and would be back in a bit. I took a breath and called John. “Yeh?” came his growling voice. “Who the f@^k am I going to have to kill to get my sh!t back?” I spat. “I’ll get to you, just one thing, you’re gonna get your hands dirty if you want to get revenge.” John answered. “Fine,” I slammed down the phone closed. Something had changed in me, I broke the law once and I pushed me into the criminal category. I’m a changed man and I’ll prove it. I got in my wife’s car drove to a corner store, got out and burst into the story. I came up to the man and said one thing “Give me all the money in the cash register.” The fear instantly registered on his face. He reached behind his desk and pulled out a revolver. With shaking hands it was raised to my forehead. I smirked and smacked the gun out of his hand and quickly commandeered it. $425 dollars was piled into my hoody’s pockets. I cocked the gun and raised it to the cashiers’ head. “Pl-pl-please don’t shoot.” I raised it to the security camera fired then aimed it at the DVD recording whatever the camera sees. Two bullets shattered it into fragments. I pocketed the revolver and calmly strolled to my car. I got in and drove off. 3 minutes later I heard cop sirens ringing as they rushed to the convenient store, too late like always.
I hid my gun in the garage behind a wall, and kept the money in my wallet. 2 days later John called me and told me to meet him out front. I hoped in the Hummer and was handed a semi-automatic pistol. John also gave me a suit and a mask, “What are we doing?” I asked. “We’re assassins, $100,000 is what we’ll be paid for this one.” John replied, “Your doin the shooting ok?” I grinned. John passed me a silencer and showed me how to cock and attach the silencer. “What are you doing?” I questioned. “Distractions,” said John with a grin. We got out at a building full of condos. John ran into the garage and I was sent to go to the fourth floor, condo #3. I was posing as a waiter, serving room service. A butler answered the door, asked me what I wanted. “Delivery for Keanu Mogati,” I said as I pulled out my pistol from under the steel tray I was holding. The butlers’ hands flew up in surrender but two bullets were already deep into his chest. He fell with an “Oof.” Without a blink I continued threw the apartment and that’s when Keanu walked out. Speechless he stared at the gun. A soft “Tick,” echoed through the apartment. I slowly turned to walk out of the apartment when I 3 gunshots ricocheted off the walls around me. I spun around to see a man baring a strange resemble to Keanu. “Your mine you bastard,” growled the man. I felt lucky to have my mask on or else my identity would be exposed. I instantly bolted for the door. More gunshots ringing off everything around me, just as I reached the door a bullet skimmed my arm. A fiery pain shot up my arm. Clutching my arm I shot down the stairs. Halfway down a boom shook the stairway. I rushed to the street to see what it was. I hid my mask in my pocket and ran outside. Down the street 2 cars were on fire. Everyone was crowding around them to see the damage. I saw the Hummer and leaped in. John sat their grinning, he shook my hand mouthing the words “nice job.” He saw my cut and got confused. “Is that a bullet wound?” he questioned. “Yeh, his brother or something was there. I killed Keanu, and he came from nowhere and started shooting at me.” I answered. John grimaced and wrapped my arm with bandages. He checked his phone and a grin was spread wide across his face. “The money has been transferred; we are now 100,000 dollars richer. Beers at my house?” John said. “Of course” I replied.
The next 6 months went by and I was a multi-millionaire. I was seeing my wife less and less. The poor thing was working so hard to jail a man she hadn't even gotten close to. Little did she know that i was the man she is hunting down. Then an opportunity came, for revenge against Donovan. He of course thought we were broke and living off other’s spare change. It will be the final assassination, the last one, the “Billionaire Project.” This one will pull in billions. I sat in the back of the sedan and watched as John exited the driver seat and walked to a white, industrial van down the street. He quickly drove into a parking lot down the street. Calmly, he exited the car and walked back in my direction. “Let’s go,” growled John. I jumped out of the car and felt the 9mm handgun dig into my thigh. I lugged my black briefcase towards our target. We walked into the skyscraper and John reached deep into his pocket. His muscle tensed as he pressed the button. A huge explosion disrupted the piece outside. Peace to chaos erupted immediately. Men and woman screaming, alarms ringing, nobody even noticed as we walked through the security gate. The ringing metal detector was just more noise. We boarded the elevator in peace and pressed floor 53; Donovan’s lucky number. The second the door closed I sprung into action; I flipped upon my briefcase and assemble my rifle. Lightweight and silent; more than anyone could ask for. John already had his ready, silenced M4 Carbine. We were ready. The light “ting” of the elevator was barely audible so we raised our weapons. The doors slid open and a greasy man was staring us straight in the face. His “tough smirk” changed to sheer terror when he saw the riffles aimed at him. His hand flew towards his holster but a bullet was quickly embedded into his skull. John pushed him into the elevator and I sent the body down to floor 15. We tore out of the elevator and flew down the halls as silently as ghosts. Millions and millions of dollars worth of artwork were plastered throughout the hail. The Persian rug softened our steps and before we knew it we were face to face with a huge mahogany door; Donovan’s office. John planted a claymore and I knocked on the door, within seconds a slot was opened and a pair of eyes studied the hall. Who’s there the man snarled, being a performer I could throw my voice so I pretended I was here to see Donovan. The moron bought it and slowly opened the door. That was all the motion we needed, the claymore exploded ripping the door and the man back. The sound echoed throughout the floor and within seconds men were rushing towards us. We dove into to door and saw Donovan sitting there calmly smiling. John slammed the door shut and bolted it. The door was actually steel and ¼ of a foot thick. Donovan still sat the calmly, like he knew something we didn’t. “Have you come for my money?” said Donovan “Or have you come to finish off my family line?” John was puzzled by the second remark. I figured it out immediately and jumped for cover. John was not so quick, the man behind the desk pulled out a small, but deadly, gun and unloaded on John. John shook violently then fell to the floor, covered in his own blood. A loud laughter came from the man who had just murdered my partner, I already knew who it was. It was the man who walked in accidently right when we executed Tommy Dacor. He saw us kill his brother and he swore revenge, we would have killed him to but we felt it unnecessary. Well now this man has just killed my partner and is heading towards me. “Do you know who I am?” inquired the man. “Yes, I do you bastard,” I spat back. Still laughing the man pulled off the molded face. As he walked towards me gunfire erupted in the halls. Temporarily the man looked up, giving me time to react, I spun out from behind my table I planted a bullet right into his shin. He dropped down whimpering. I kicked his gun out of reach and quickly planned my escape, I wasn’t going to jail. I slid over my mask and took out our emergency exit item, our parachute. I locked myself in and the door bursted open. FBI agents quickly filled the room. The injured man franticly reached for his gun but a few bullets got to him first. The attention was turned to me, with cat like reflexes I pulled out my handgun and dropped two, I aimed at the next person arid froze, my wife was unknowingly staring me straight in the face. She pulled the trigger 3 times, the bullets hit and I felt no pain, just sadness as my life drifted away. As my mask was pulled of all I heard was my wife crying at the man who she saw.
So here I stand in wax museums around the world, where kids poke and touch me and stare at me with nothing but disgust.
