by Reyth Thu May 03, 2012 1:30 pm((Just something quick I wrote up for Reyth. Had an idea in my head and wanted to get it out. Warning: Brief mature language.))
They say you never forget your first. Whether that be your first lover, your first enemy, or your first job, it’s a unique situation experienced only by you. Reyth was lucky enough to have all those happen all at once. She thought she could remain in control, she assumed it would be an easy job.
She was wrong. It wasn’t.
The details and specifications of her first contract were simple enough. A Castanic male who called himself Zeta. A local smuggler who ran a small tavern in the backstreets of Velika His tavern doubled as a brothel, that boasted not only a male customer base, but women as well. Apparently, Zeta had taken it upon himself to personally serve one female customer. Repeatedly and at her house while her husband was away. When the husband found out, he locked his wife away and set out to find someone to deal with Zeta. After all, he couldn’t dirty his hands with such trash.
Reyth’s meeting with the husband was brief. “I want him killed. Understand? He’s a thief, mixed up in all sorts of illegal things. He’s been fucking up all around this town, and dealing with my wife was the last straw.”
Her response was curt. “I don’t like to kill unless absolutely necessary.”
“I don’t care what you like. I’m hiring you, don’t forget that. You’ll be doing all the Federation a favor believe me. No one wants a slaver here in the city. Bet you didn’t know that. Half those whores there, he owns.”
She didn’t, but made no indication as to so. Instead, she shrugged. “I should get started then.”
Reyth had made motion to leave, but the husband grabbed her arm, stopping her movement. “I know you are a keener at this, so don’t fuck it up. It shouldn’t be hard to get close to him, not with an ass like yours.”
A sweet smile had crossed her face at hearing this. “Touch me again and I’ll make your wife a widow. Let’s not give her two reasons to mourn.”
With that, she yanked her arm back, and left.
Still, he had been right. It wasn’t difficult at all to get close to Zeta. A toss of her hair, a batting of lashes, and before she knew it, he was offering a drink. Her plan had been to get him into the bedroom and then dispatch him. Nothing unique, but simple. The first half of it went off without a hitch, but when it came to the completion of her job...Something went awry. She told herself the time wasn’t right, told herself he would have expected it. And so the pattern continued. She’d go to him, each time expecting to come out with bloodied hands, but instead always ending up with excuses.
Zeta was something she had never encountered. He had charm and finesse, he had the knack for making anyone feel like the most special person in the room. Everything Reyth had thought she’d prepared herself to ignore. Yet, here she was, eating up every last word he fed her. She knew she was being foolish, but couldn’t stop herself from enjoying it. He was a drug and she couldn’t say no.
Who knows how long she would have stayed at his heels, if not for the day she saw him receive and actual delivery of people. Of slaves. Reyth knew it instantly. Three human girls, young and frightened, huddled together while Zeta casually handed a purse of coins to the man who delivered them. As their handler left, Zeta beckoned a worker over and handed them off to him. One of the girls began to cry and was promptly smacked by the worker. Zeta didn’t bat a lash. Instead he began walking back towards Reyth, a smile visible on his handsome features. She wanted to vomit.
She finally finished the job that night. She wouldn’t let him touch her again, not after seeing that smile. Instead she got him drunk, so drunk he could barely walk. Leading him back to his room, Reyth helped him lay on the bed. Then, while he was passed out, she stuck a knife in his chest. She didn’t check to see if the blow had been fatal, didn’t make any effort to cover her tracks. The whole experience was bizarre and surreal, and all she wanted to do was get out of there. She fled town that night.
She didn’t expect to get paid, after all, she had left before even reporting back. She knew she didn't deserve the money anyway, leaving town was a cowardly act. But a few weeks later, she received a fair amount of gold via the post, a note along with it.
Reyth, dear. I should thank you for saving me the trouble of clearing my record. After all, it’s not every day someone gets such an opportunity to fake their death. A word of wisdom however, always make sure your bounty is actually taken care of before leaving, else a bad reputation and enemies will surely follow you. Don’t worry though, your secret is safe with me.
See you soon. Zeta
They say you never forget your first. Whether that be your first lover, your first enemy, or your first job, it’s a unique situation experienced only by you. Reyth was lucky enough to have all those happen all at once. She thought she could remain in control, she assumed it would be an easy job.
She was wrong. It wasn’t.
The details and specifications of her first contract were simple enough. A Castanic male who called himself Zeta. A local smuggler who ran a small tavern in the backstreets of Velika His tavern doubled as a brothel, that boasted not only a male customer base, but women as well. Apparently, Zeta had taken it upon himself to personally serve one female customer. Repeatedly and at her house while her husband was away. When the husband found out, he locked his wife away and set out to find someone to deal with Zeta. After all, he couldn’t dirty his hands with such trash.
Reyth’s meeting with the husband was brief. “I want him killed. Understand? He’s a thief, mixed up in all sorts of illegal things. He’s been fucking up all around this town, and dealing with my wife was the last straw.”
Her response was curt. “I don’t like to kill unless absolutely necessary.”
“I don’t care what you like. I’m hiring you, don’t forget that. You’ll be doing all the Federation a favor believe me. No one wants a slaver here in the city. Bet you didn’t know that. Half those whores there, he owns.”
She didn’t, but made no indication as to so. Instead, she shrugged. “I should get started then.”
Reyth had made motion to leave, but the husband grabbed her arm, stopping her movement. “I know you are a keener at this, so don’t fuck it up. It shouldn’t be hard to get close to him, not with an ass like yours.”
A sweet smile had crossed her face at hearing this. “Touch me again and I’ll make your wife a widow. Let’s not give her two reasons to mourn.”
With that, she yanked her arm back, and left.
Still, he had been right. It wasn’t difficult at all to get close to Zeta. A toss of her hair, a batting of lashes, and before she knew it, he was offering a drink. Her plan had been to get him into the bedroom and then dispatch him. Nothing unique, but simple. The first half of it went off without a hitch, but when it came to the completion of her job...Something went awry. She told herself the time wasn’t right, told herself he would have expected it. And so the pattern continued. She’d go to him, each time expecting to come out with bloodied hands, but instead always ending up with excuses.
Zeta was something she had never encountered. He had charm and finesse, he had the knack for making anyone feel like the most special person in the room. Everything Reyth had thought she’d prepared herself to ignore. Yet, here she was, eating up every last word he fed her. She knew she was being foolish, but couldn’t stop herself from enjoying it. He was a drug and she couldn’t say no.
Who knows how long she would have stayed at his heels, if not for the day she saw him receive and actual delivery of people. Of slaves. Reyth knew it instantly. Three human girls, young and frightened, huddled together while Zeta casually handed a purse of coins to the man who delivered them. As their handler left, Zeta beckoned a worker over and handed them off to him. One of the girls began to cry and was promptly smacked by the worker. Zeta didn’t bat a lash. Instead he began walking back towards Reyth, a smile visible on his handsome features. She wanted to vomit.
She finally finished the job that night. She wouldn’t let him touch her again, not after seeing that smile. Instead she got him drunk, so drunk he could barely walk. Leading him back to his room, Reyth helped him lay on the bed. Then, while he was passed out, she stuck a knife in his chest. She didn’t check to see if the blow had been fatal, didn’t make any effort to cover her tracks. The whole experience was bizarre and surreal, and all she wanted to do was get out of there. She fled town that night.
She didn’t expect to get paid, after all, she had left before even reporting back. She knew she didn't deserve the money anyway, leaving town was a cowardly act. But a few weeks later, she received a fair amount of gold via the post, a note along with it.
Reyth, dear. I should thank you for saving me the trouble of clearing my record. After all, it’s not every day someone gets such an opportunity to fake their death. A word of wisdom however, always make sure your bounty is actually taken care of before leaving, else a bad reputation and enemies will surely follow you. Don’t worry though, your secret is safe with me.
See you soon. Zeta
