Tony The Hitman

The rain was pouring on my head, and the raindrops slid down to my eyes, making them sting. I kept wiping my face with my forearm. The only thing helping me to see was the streetlamp over me.

I was standing on the corner of the street as instructed. The instruction came from one of the higher-ups. I was excited. It was an opportunity to get in good with the bosses.

I looked down the street, and I could see headlights from a vehicle coming towards me. I stared well the automobile drove closer. I had a feeling this is the guy I was waiting for. The dark car slowly came to a stop in front of me. A man in a dark coat opened the door and exited the vehicle. "Are you Tony?" he said. I told him yes, well reaching for the door handle to get into the front seat. Before I could open it, he said, "You sit in the back and hurry the fuck up." I quickly let go of the door handle and popped open the door to the back. There was a package wrapped in brown paper on the seat. I went to push it over to sit down. "Be careful with that," the man said to me. Well, he was getting back in the driver's seat. I asked him what it was well gently moving the package over. "Don't worry about it," he replied. He shut the door, and I closed mine, and we started to drive away.

I watched the rain droplets drip down the window in lines and asked the man after a while where we were going. "I will drop you off, and I need you to take the package to this address" he handed me a piece of paper. "You're going to hand the package to a guy named Jim. You must stay and watch Jim open the package," he explained to me. I asked him what was inside. "Don't fucking worry about it, and don't fuck this up," he answered back.

I sat there nervously because I didn't want to mess up my first job. I heard stories of guys getting whacked for messing up jobs. The automobile finally came to a stop in front of a store with no lights on. "Ok, so the place your headed is a couple of blocks away," he told me and handed me a gun. I asked him what the weapon was for. I thought I was only delivering a package. "It's in case you need to finish the job," he told me. I stared at him with a blank face. "Trust me, kid, you will know what to do with it when the time comes. Now get the fuck out of here." I grabbed the package and placed the gun on top of it. I opened the door and carefully balanced the gun on the box. I exited the vehicle and stood there straight facing the automobile well it drove away.

I moved the package into my chess and held it with one hand, pressing it to my body. I grabbed the gun with my other hand and started to lift my coat up with the same hand to shove it into my back pocket. I then started to carry the package down the barely lit street. I thought about the gun in my back pocket while walking to my destination. Guns kill people. I wonder to myself if I am ready to kill someone tonight. I never killed someone before, but I knew in the back of my head this is what it's like being a mobster in New York. It was too late to turn back now. The only way out of this life is a bullet to the head. The honor I felt about being chosen for the job by the bosses has now turned into regret. It was nerve-racking because I didn't know a lot about the job. All I knew was the guy was named Jim. I wondered who this wise guy was.

I started to reach an area with expensive homes. I reached in my pocket for the paper with the address on it. The paper got wet from being in my jacket. The writing was smudged, and I could hardly read anything. I quickly moved under a streetlamp nearby so I could see the damn thing. The only thing I could make out was the street number. 3405. I looked at the house numbers, and I was at 3415. I walked down the sidewalk well, looking at each house number, saying them in my head. 3410, 3409, 3408, 3407, 3406, and 3405.

I stood in front of the house for a moment. The lights were on, and I could see a shadow moving through the window shade. "Ok. Tony, you can do this," I thought to myself. Taking a deep breath. I walked up the steps to the front door, curled my right hand into a fist, and knocked a couple of times lightly, then I bent my head down, looking at my wet shoes, and started hitting a little louder each time. The door swung open, and my face went pale white when I saw who was standing in the doorway.

"Tony, get your ass in here. You're late," Mr. Russo said, well, grabbing the package from me. I was still standing there in complete shock. Out of all the Jim's in the world, it had to be Jim Russo, the most notorious mob boss in New York, and I was at his house with a gun in my back pocket. "I hope you didn't get my cigars wet. If you did, I just might have to kill you," he said with a grin. I smiled back nervously well walking through his front door. I did get some relief the suspicious package was cigars. I still didn't know why the man gave me a gun. I figured now it was to fuck with my head.

I peaked down the hall and saw Mr. Russo's wife cooking in the kitchen. I looked back at Mr. Russo, and he was looking at his package. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" he asked. I replied yes. "Good, follow me to my office. I imported these cigars from Cuba," he explained. I followed him to his office. The room was filled with books and other exciting items. There was a couch off to the right of his desk. Mr. Russo pointed to the sofa and asked me to sit down. I walked over to the sofa and sat down, and Mr. Russo moved over to sit behind his desk.

"Thank you for bringing this to me tonight," he told me well, unwrapping the brown paper. Underneath the package was a wooden box. Mr. Russo took both hands and started to slowly slide off the lid. All of a sudden, I heard a loud pop! I was confused at first, and then I looked up at Mr. Russo's face. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. I stood up from the couch and looked over at him. Mr. Russo moved his left hand and grabbed his chest. He tried to stand up but could not fully stand and stumbled, leaning bent over with one hand on the desk, the other held on to his chest. I could see now blood was starting to appear on his shirt where his hand was. When Mr. Russo got to the end of the desk, he collapsed. I looked back to the wooden box, and there was some kind of contraption sticking out that looked like a gun.

I rushed over to Mr. Russo and bent down to turn him over. As I was turning him over, I noticed a hole in his chest with blood pouring out of it. "What the fuck…Did you do" he said to me. I told him I didn't do anything and from his face, it appeared he didn't believe me. I stood up and took a step back from him, and the adrenaline started to kick in. I placed my hands on my head and began to pace back forth. I didn't know what to do. If I get help. Mr. Russo is probably going to have me killed. If he dies, it's going to look like I killed him. I am fucked either way. I remember the gun in my back pocket. I lifted my coat up and pulled the gun out. "What the fuck are you doing with that" he laughed well, holding his bullet wound. I started to bang the gun against my head. Then I remember what the man told me. He said I would know what to do with it. I looked back at Mr. Russo. "You're a dead man, Tony," Mr. Russo told me as I pointed the gun at him. I went numb and fired two times into his chest. Mr. Russo's hands fell to the side of him as his body went limp. After the first shot, it was loud enough for his wife to hear because as soon as I fired, I heard screams coming from downstairs. As the screams got louder, I thought to myself. Who set me up?