Dissolve to Black

A short piece of crime fiction.

Have you ever looked a man in the eyes knowing you're going to kill him?

No?

Understandable. It's not a situation that everyone finds themselves in.

I have, six times.

I've killed more than that. Seventeen, being accurate. All men who lived in a world where they knew mistakes would result in their deaths. It’s what I do. My bosses provide a target. I find and study them for patterns of behaviour, opportunity and then pick a moment where they’re vulnerable and weak. Put the gun to their head, pull the trigger. Let the bullet do the rest.

Jobs don't always require looking in their eyes. Sometimes they're walking away from me or getting into their car in a dark, deserted car park. Every now and then I’m required to stand face to face with someone. Eye to eye. Each time there's been a brief moment of absolute silence where they realise what’s happening. Their eyes go clear, like they're experiencing a moment of perfect understanding of the world and all they've done in it. The realisation of why this is happening. The mistake they made.

Half a second later everything dissolves to black.

There's a power in that silence that you can't understand unless you've stood where I've stood, done what I've done.  It’s the ultimate control.

I'm experiencing it now as I stand facing the mirror.

The cold metal barrel digs against my temple. My finger on the trigger feels the same as always, yet different. Not as comfortable, as ready.

I look into my eyes.

It's not my life that flashes before them. It's theirs. The seventeen.  Each dead face, forever in my dreams, forever haunting my soul.

The perfect understanding of what I've done.

I squeeze the trigger.

Dissolve to black.