Fading Away: Chapter 1

Fade sets out under orders to kill.

 

            It’s cold. Damn Cold. They said it was better for us living on Black Haven to experience a climate that included changing seasons comparative to Earth. My balls disagreed with them. I have never been to earth, but have been told the air there feels softer and it lacks a certain metallic smell. It’s stupid, but I never noticed the smell until vacationing on Parsilona one year with my foster parents. That smell; just one more thing to hate about this place. One more reason to leave.

            I pulled up to the two story house on West Confessor Avenue. I’m pretty familiar with the Hampshire district even though I could never afford to live here. Although the houses were all very modest, the streets and yards were uncluttered and clean looking which was something not often found in Black Haven; Something else I never noticed about this place until Parsilona. God I hate it here.

            I double checked the address twice before shifting my sedan in park and stepping out of the car. The wind was kicking up and sending cold shivers down my spine. I gripped my jacket tight. “Keep it cool” I tell myself “it’s not that bad. Is one more really going to matter?”

            I never thought that I would care. Never thought that I would start to feel sympathy or remorse. I found myself in some pretty bad situations that got me thinking. I’ve been dreaming more of the little girl lately. I can hardly close my eyes now with out seeing her face.

            I’m halfway to the house when I hear a car pull up behind me. I take a quick look over my shoulder to see what’s up. Just the mail man. He looked at me though. I never liked working during the daytime. Then again, when you’re enclosed in a giant city floating around in space, its hard to really define “daytime”. It’s all comparative I guess, hell I don’t know. I’ve got more important things to think about.

            Approaching the door I notice it slightly open. It’s dark except for the flicker of a light cast over the walls from an unseen source. I take a quick look over my shoulder one last time to make sure the coast is clear before I start waving my gun around. Not seeing a soul in sight I unleash death from its holster. As I’m reaching down to grab the handle a voice coming from inside stops my momentum. It’s warm and friendly and welcomes me inside. I slowly open the door and let my gun lead us into the room. I can't see anything. That voice is coming from somewhere.

            “This way Fade. This way. I’m in the dinning room. First door to your left.”

I walk across the foyer and cautiously enter the dinning room coming up behind the old man. He is sitting at the table writing. “How do you know my name?” I ask. He doesn't answer me. I placed the gun to the back of his balding head, his hair slightly brushing up against the barrel. I check out the room. It’s empty. I pull back the hammer. He doesn't move but continues writing.

            “Please, do be patient. I’m almost finished.”

            I squeeze the handle tightly in haste, then release. What do I care if the guy finishes his letter? Casually I lower my weapon and walk over to the chair in front of him and sit down. I feel a strange calming and what I can only describe as a sense of being very unthreatened. “What are you writing? A final letter to your wife? A last message to your prodigal son perhaps?”

He smirks at my curiosity but never answers.

            When Papa Joe called me he seemed frantic and almost scared. I don’t understand what could’ve been so bad that he felt he needed to call me up at 6 o’clock on a Friday night to whack some old guy while he wrote letters and drank tea. I just can’t understand it.

            “Tea Fade?” He didn’t look up.

            “No, thank you.”

            “I’ll be right with you. I’m almost finished.”

            The guy sat there in perfect contentment as me and death sat feet away from him. He knows its coming, and he’s not scared.

            “Do you grant final requests Fade?”

He must have finished, he’s licking the envelope closed. I didn’t notice. Wasn’t paying attention. I break off my first date in what must have been months to come way the hell over to this side of the third sphere, and here I’m actually considering doing a favor for this guy. My step mother was right, I’m too nice.

            “It’s nothing special Fade. I would like to send this letter out before I die and, seeing is how that is going to be a reality so very very soon, I was wondering, if you could drop it off in the mail for me.”

            I squint my eyes, searching for objection; but find none. “Leave it on the table. I’ll take  care of it.”

            “Thank you Fade, you are too kind.”

He’s all smiles. I’m trying not to think about it. “Don’t mention it.”

            “Whenever you are ready, know that I am.”

            I take aim and try not to think of her. My eyes want to close as I pull the trigger. His head explodes and blossoms like a crimson flower of liquid and brain as it splatters through the air. My senses heighten; I’m recording every second his death. His face lacks the traditional horrific look of disbelief. His form goes limp and falls out of site beneath the table. There is Blood everywhere. For a second, I try to rationalize what just happened. Unfortunately I don’t have time for this.