“How long as it been?”

“2 years, why?”

The same conversation struck up again, the same conversation, which usually came up from the depths of silence every few weeks. Two figures stood in a room, a young boy with a scowl on his face, wearing a pair of scruffy shorts and an old shirt, a small symbol wasn’t entirely clear on it as it was hidden in the corner within creases.

The other person, young man with a casual air about him, he couldn’t be compared to the young boy as his suit practically screamed out upper class, though he hated to acknowledge it. His blue eyes looked around the room before finally setting on the young boy, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it, then a few minutes of silence, he turned away from the boy and glanced out of the huge window which welcomed his gaze.

Even though they were a thousand feet up in the air, it was still noticeable, smoke still spewed from the streets and crowds of tiny figures marched through the city, another riot and another good cause swallowed up by the peoples hatred. He just stood their, aware of the company but unable to pull himself away from the view until eventually, a small cough broke him free from the trance like state and he looked back towards the boy.

Impatience etched clearly into every face muscle, they just stood their, staring at each other before the young mans guest finally got the message and left, slamming the door behind him and leaving the young man alone in solitude. It was pointless trying to concentrate when the city was left at the mercy of hatred, what he was about to tell the boy had almost slipped his mind.

“The deed is done”

A raspy reached his ears, he didn’t even move though with shock or act surprised, like he was expecting it. He glanced upwards and laid his eyes on another smartly dressed person, looking slightly older than he was, standing on the ceiling. A strange person, he knew practically nothing about him, other than his name, Jean.

“Excellent, care for a glass before leaving?”

Courtesy has always been one of his strong points or at least one of his more admirable traits, something quite rare today, in the world or even the city itself. He walked over and pulled two glasses out of a cabinet just above a piece of paper which was nailed to wall, it showed two figures shaking hands, although most of it was taken up by an even bigger image further along of a face, definitely edited to remove all it’s of it’s targets flaws. He mumbled something before reaching once more into the cabinet and pulling out a single bottle of brownish liquid and turned round to face Jean again.

“Brandy will do?”

“Sure but something else.”

His hand faltered slightly as he grabbed the bottle and began to pour a more than generous amount into jeans glass, slightly spilling it over the side and watched it drip down onto the lush carpet. Looking up, he saw the look in his eyes, distrust. Nervously, he cleared his throat and finished pouring the already half bottle into his own glass. Something was wrong, he usually wasn’t so damn curious. He twisted his neck slightly as he glanced back towards his guest.

“First though, do you mind ACTUALLY being normal for once and taking a seat?”

He gestured towards a seat opposite his desk. Jean placed his left hand out in front, till it was flat on the upper ceiling and lifted his feet up until he was in a handstand position and pushed his hand off the ceiling, making sure to land perfectly on the ground unceremoniously. Without saying a word, he walked up to him and reached past, wrapping his bony hand around one of the glasses, placed it near his mouth, taking a sip and savouring the taste before arranging himself comfortable in one of the chair a few spaces away.

“As I was saying, my target, it’s just…”

All of a sudden, he was nervous as hell. He tried to hide from Jean and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a tissue and wiping away the sweat trickling down his face before chucking it aside. Luckily, his guest was preoccupied with the view and didn’t seem notice, in a cavalier fashion he walked over to the desk, being careful to hide the shaking of his hand around the glass.

He hated to admit it, but he always did this, folded under pressure. A leader has to be brave and never thinks twice about anything, even when things get complicated, the leader will sort everything out for all his cowards working under him, he hated that aspect.

“Hatred, it’s like a virus that spreads through person to person. Like a virus, it also has a source, but the source I killed, the person who’s neck I snapped was a…”

Jean stopped in mid sentence, as why he stopped; it was made clear the moment he looked up to see the barrel of a gun. He almost felt sorry for poor old Jean, he couldn’t utter a single word; his mouth just kept slightly opening. You don’t need a voice as proof of fear when you could see it in their eyes. He laughed to himself, not on purpose but at a thought; he’d only ever paid this much attention to faces when it was their last encounter.

“Leo, wait!”

Two consecutive shots rang through the room, closely followed by the squeaking a chair as it moved side to side with two arms on each side of the arm rests. Leo looked down at the gun; a small amount of blood had splattered against it, at such a close and all. No one would run in shock, no one at all. They knew as well as him that a few sacrifices are necessary; you have to look at the bigger picture.