HOME | DD

Description
     Looking down upon the child that lay sleeping before her, Scout was once again reminded that this job did not feel right. It was meant for a nastier crook, someone common and dirty. She smiled grimly at the thought, not many people could be much dirtier than her, now could they? A stupid village girl turned killer for hire. Her occupation put her with the dregs of humanity, but that was a step up from what she had once been.

     Scout blinked away such thoughts; they distracted her from the job. As she pulled the strong-smelling cloth from her pouch, the child stirred. Frozen in place, she watched as the child rolled to his other side, snuggling closer to a toy. A quiet breath of relief escaped her; she did not need any complications. Unfolding the cloth, she draped it over her hand slowly, knowing that she put off the inevitable.

     Boss wanted her to do this job. It wasn't what she was used to doing, but he had confidence in her abilities. Scout could skewer a man straight through without flinching, but she had qualms about drugging a child. She bit her lower lip, and placed her free hand on her abdomen. Narrowing her eyes, she promised herself that if she were ever to have children they would learn to sleep light and to protect themselves from people such as her.

     With that thought, the clothed hand descended upon the child's face, covering his mouth and nose. His eyes flew open, revealing a startling shade of green. Scout felt small hands wrap around her arm, at first frantic and strong, then weak, and then falling back onto the bed. As the boy's small body relaxed, she tried to ignore the growing ache in her chest. Content that the small body would not wake for hours to come, she returned the cloth to its place and gingerly picked up the fragile form before swinging him over her shoulder.

     The body was light. Nothing in comparison to the bodies Scout had dragged into ditches in the past. Boss liked that in her, the surprising strength that could be found in her wiry limbs. The ease at which she held the boy made her itch to drop him back in his bed. Feeling herself fall prey to the temptation, she turned towards the open window from which she had entered. Stepping with quiet feet towards it, she found herself perched on the sill and ready to jump down. The ground was close for her, nothing she couldn't manage, but would the boy be hurt by such a fall?

     No, Scout shook her head, she would make sure he would be fine. With one hand she gripped him, her fingers digging so tightly into his ribs that if she had held him with more force he would have found proof in bruises the next morning. Sure of his security, she jumped. Her feet hit the street hard, while her knees quickly bent to absorb the impact, and her free hand slapped the ground. The boy did not stir, the claws of the drug still stuck in him.

     She stood slowly, scanning the street for troublemakers. As she had suspected, the streets were deserted. Only a sliver of moon lit her path as Scout began to run. Her light footsteps were quick and graceful, each taken with purpose and a goal in mind. She was to have the boy to Boss by sunrise, and though the sun would not appear for hours, the sooner she was finished with this job, the better. She preferred killing people. The business of kidnapping was distasteful.