In the deepest hours of night I leap across from building to building as silent as the shadows that accompany me. The city around me has a somber silence that unnerves many but I am very familiar with. In the distance, I hear a dog bark loudly for a few moments soon followed by the shouts of an angry man. A gunshot is heard, it's loud bang cuts through the silent darkness but nothing stirs. Everything goes back to the somber silence.

I pause from my travels to look at the general direction those sounds were made as though curious, interested or distracted. I have the time to do so but none of those emotions rise from my body. I feel as though that is what everyone else would do. After a few moments of standing in the dark pretending I continue onward.

I arrive at my destination shortly. I stand on the roof top of a building. It is one of the many buildings that occupy the city. It is no more discernible than any other building but within is where I am needed to complete my job. I leap down to a ledge and take out a small glass cutter. I splash oil on the window and slowly begin to make my incision making as little noise as possible. A small hole is made and I unlatch the window to make my way inside.

Inside there is a crib where a toddler boy lays awake. It smiles at me; I take out my knife. I caress its face with my dagger. It giggles happily as though it knew what was going to happen. A loud snore from the other room catches my attention. I withdraw the dagger from its face and check the other room. I find a sleeping couple snoring happily in a king sized bed. I frown, wrong room. I don't like bad intelligence; it's a waste of my time.

I ponder briefly whether or not to plunge my dagger into the child's neck to ventilate my frustration. I can imagine it now. A bloody, dead child, a crying couple, lives destroyed. A smile creeps across my face as the thought passes through my mind. The child smiles at me sweetly as my imagination gets the better of me. I look at it and leave through the front door of the apartment feeling disgusted. I find the correct apartment and pick the lock at the front entrance.

I pick it quickly and quietly unlock the door. As I walk in a large bloodhound greets me and started growling. My hand swiftly reaches for my knife and I lunge at the dog before it realizes what I am doing. My knife sinks into the area between the dog's eyes. Silence follows. I wipe the pink and red liquid off my knife with a piece of cloth I keep from within my pockets and continue onwards to my target inside.

The bedroom door was open. Inside laid a woman around her mid thirties sleeping alone contently. She would be considered beautiful to many people but to me they are all the same. I take the same knife that I used to kill her dog and take my time positioning myself for nice, efficient kill. A kill that is worth savoring. I bring my knife down, plunging it into the woman's throat.

She awakes in a seizing fit. Blood quickly begins pouring out the wound. She tries to pull the knife out of her throat but she is weak, she can barely grip the handle or my hand that stays on the knife's handle. She tries to grasp onto the last few strands of life that she has left but we both know that it is already gone. Her life has come to an unexpected and grotesque end.

Soon the struggle ceases and she becomes still. As a corpse she lies with a shocked face, eyes wide open and bathed in her own blood. I take the knife from her throat and clean it again. My job is done. I leave the apartment as quietly as I had entered, as though I was never there.