“A-are you serious?” Albert asked the stranger. Five minutes earlier the lean, unknown man with greased black hair knocked on his door. When Albert answered, the visitor pulled a gun from his dark coat then forced himself into the house. Now Albert sat in his kitchen, tied to a chair, while the man made himself a cup of coffee.
“Quite,” the man replied with a soft, pleasant voice.
“Why?” Albert asked. “You seem like a decent guy. Can’t we work something else out? I can double whatever they’re offering.” The man raised a thin black eyebrow.
“You can offer me the chance to kill two people, without repercussion?”He asked with a faint smirk.
“I..What? No, I mean I’m rich! I’ll pay whatever you’re asking.” The man sat down across from Albert with his coffee. He shrugged at the bound man.
“Money’s never been an issue for me. This is very much a leisure pursuit,” he smiled over his steaming cup.
“You’re killing me for fun?” Albert’s brown eyes turned sharp as he scowled at the man.
“Yes. However, to be clear: I’m killing for fun. You happen to be the target, but it’s by no means personal. By the way, my name is Crowley.”
“Are you this chatty with all your victims?” Albert asked. Crowley smiled and gave another shrug.
“As I said. Fun. Oh! That reminds me.” Crowley set his cup down, then stood from his seat. “Don’t go anywhere,” he winked at Albert and walked out of the kitchen. Albert heard the front door open, then close. He jumped upward with his body and lifted the chair off the ground enough to move. He continued the hopping motion and tried to steer his chair towards the knife drawer.
His hands were zip-tied to the chair’s arms, but he had enough freedom of movement to open the drawer. He stared at the knives and realized he had no way to get one in his hand. He felt panic blossom in his chest when he heard the front door open again. He hopped his chair around to face the kitchen entrance and watched Crowley enter. The tall man walked in with a large, bulky plaid suitcase and he set it on the table next to his cup.
“That’s as far as you got?” Crowley chuckled. “I waited out there so long I got bored.” Crowley pointed at a steak knife perched on the edge of the counter.
“I even left a knife out when I made my coffee,” he said. “Ah well, ever forward.” He unzipped the suitcase and opened the top flap. Then he walked behind Albert’s chair and moved him in front of the open case.
Inside the case, Albert saw several types of weapons, with more than one of each variety. He counted at least five daggers, three swords, an assortment of maces and half a dozen other deadly tools. None of them were organized in any way, it was essentially a pile of weapons in a suitcase.
“What do you need all these for?” he asked.
“I thought that’d been established,” Crowley said. He placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, leaned in and whispered, “Fun.” Crowley stood up straight again and glanced around the kitchen. “Now then, this is likely going to get messy.” He walked to the nearest set of drawers and began pulling them open. In the third drawer, he found what he was searching for, a roll of plastic wrap. He pulled it out and pointed it at Albert. “Better to use the bathtub.” Crowley picked up his cup of coffee on the way out of the kitchen, then turned back. “This might take a bit of time to set up,” he winked at Albert again. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Albert sat still until he heard Crowley go up the stairs. Then he hopped in his chair towards the knife drawer.
“Wait, no!” he remembered then shifted his seat towards the other counter where the steak knife sat. After nearly a dozen short hops he reached the counter. His fingertips could not quite reach the handle of the knife. He kicked the cabinet door under the counter in frustration and the knife fell right into his hand. “YES! I’m gonna kill that bastard,” he grinned to himself as he turned the knife edge under his wrist and cut himself free. The other three zip-ties came off easily and Albert stood. He gripped the knife tight and moved to leave the kitchen, but he remembered the suitcase of weapons. “Serves him right for leaving them here like this.” He grabbed three of the daggers that sat on top, put one in each of his boots, then left the kitchen wielding the third one.
Albert climbed the stairs. He took time to ease his weight on each step to avoid warning Crowley that he escaped. He reached the second floor and saw the restroom door wide open with the light on inside. The restroom was the first room on the right, so he did not need to travel far. He reached the edge and peeked in to see Crowley dancing to himself. Albert recognized black strings hanging from Crowley’s head as earbuds.
Albert’s heart pounded as he took in a deep breath. He moved as fast as he could and rushed into the bathroom. He shoved Crowley forward into the tub and jumped in next to him. Crowley rolled over to get his bearings. Albert took the opportunity to place a heavy boot on Crowley’s chest and lean forward. He put the dagger point at Crowley’s throat.
“What’s stopping me from killing you right now?” Albert asked with a triumphant smirk.
“Stupid questions,” Crowley winked. Albert heard a mechanical pop, then felt searing pain in his hand and both feet. Silver blades flashed out of the dagger’s handle. The weapon dropped on Crowley’s chest along with all the fingers from Albert’s right hand.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhh,” Albert screamed. He fell backward, the pain on his ankles was too intense to stand, and he could not feel his feet anymore. He kicked his legs in agony, blood poured out of his boots into the bathtub.
“I knew you’d be a messy one,” Crowley mumbled to himself as he climbed out of the tub.