Third person workshop piece

A short story in the third person limited from two characters

Michael sat in his chair, and for a moment thought about the possibble answers to the job offer before standing up. He had always hated managers and their demanding position, let alone being one.

In a silent whisper, he told John goodbye and left the house. Once outside, the darkness wrapped around him in a comforting concealment as he walked the road home.

He felt safe knowing he couldn't be seen. Not because he hated the company of others but because he knew possible assailants couldn't get to him if he remained invisible. The sounds of cars coming at him, as well as the smell of burning pine, didn't bother him in the least because this was 'his' road.

He didn't stop until he got to his door and noticed that John was behind him as he slowly turned around and waited for the pleading to start again.

What does he want?

John's breathing kept getting louder until the point where it was but a step's length away.

"Please Michael, reconsider." It sounded as if he thought Michael's life depended on it.
"No John, I'm not gonna be a corporate puppet."
"But..."
"Go home John, this is my final answer."

He went inside where his home's silence was waiting for him.

The silence was broken only, or so he thought, by his own steps, the creaking of the wooden floor and then the cries of pain as his grandfather's trophy blade was driven through him time and time again. He knew he'd been betrayed by John which added insult to injury in these final moments.
He heard the sighs of his now exhausted assassin followed by the sound of the blade hitting the wet wooden floor. Everything went silent.

The pain won't last much longer now.

He felt himself slowly slipping into the numbness of death.




John was tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the answer to the job offer he'd made an hour ago. But to his surprise, Michael stood and left him with a silent goodbye.
It was clear Michael didn't want the job but it was imperative that he took it.

John followed Michael out and took his cell to pre-dial his boss in case Michael was too stubborn. In no way did he want this to end badly, but he suspected it would anyway.

He saw the orange streetlights once he got outside, and couldn't help but feel like they were marking the steps toward a last chance to persuade Michael. Cars passed and a thick smoke came out of the chimneys of several of the neighbourhood houses. He detected the scent of burning pine.

He kept following Michael until he got to his front door. And approached him to the point where he was only a step away. His breathing at this point was loud and heavy. When Michael noticed this, he turned around slowly and waited.

Please say yes, it's the smartest thing to do. There's no need for this to be your end yet.

John bowed his head

"Please Michael, reconsider."
"No John, I'm not gonna be a corporate puppet."
"But..."
"Go home John, this is my final answer."

Michael didn't seem to notice the warning in John's voice. Disappointed, John then stepped away from the door as Michael went in.

It's nothing personal, Michael, just business

As the door closed, John made the call that set off the sound of his former colleague screaming in agony. After the screaming stopped, the sound of the door made John look up and he saw a man stepping out with bloody latex gloves and a grin on his face.