Assassin's Ego

Assassin's Ego is a continuation of Inconspicuous Stranger.

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----Assassin's Ego----

The body he lived in felt heavy. He was exhausted to the point that he couldn't open his eyes. It got so bad that he couldn't even control his jaw which happens to be among the easiest body parts to control. The only body function he could consciously control was his breathing. He tried to take in slow breaths to help himself fall asleep. After all, his intention is to get a good night sleep. Still, there was this one thing that bothered his sleep, his conscience.

He couldn't take his mind off the recent assignment. About the silly mistakes he has made, what he could have done better, and etc. To prepare for his next assignment, he had to convince himself that fear will no longer be a factor. Emotions will no longer hinder him. This will the last time he'd allow his guilty conscious to take over him. Within a night, everything felt so different.

Nothing will ever be the same. All of a sudden, everyone had become so ordinary, so plain, so mindless, a mere flesh who does only what is expected, blindly following orders from someone...anyone. Within a night, he lost any respect he had for ALL his fellow friends. Even those whom he once regard as a great man is now another flesh to him. His perception on people who lives in the same planet changed dramatically. He never would have imagined how dumb everyone was. Every social gathering is never the same as before.

Occasionally, he hangs out with his beer buddy just so that he could portrait an ordinary life to the public. Whenever tales of ego begins to flow, he finds it hard to join in the conversation. Everything that they boast about, every masculine action, every bar-fight they described is nothing but nonsense to him. To his beer buddy, it might be the greatest show of power. But to him, it’s something he had to do all the time in his profession.

As his friend boast about the 10 hard punches he delivered to the big buffy bouncer the other day, all that on his mind was on how his buddy could have 'settle' him with a punch to a precise body anatomy. Contained within him is a vast pool of knowledge he can't share to just anyone. And because of that, he finds it hard to contain his ego, the need to boast how capable he is. There were times when he was so tempted to tell someone what ‘real life’ meant for him, but sadly he had to contain all that. Gradually, he finds every boasting that came out from all his beer buddies irritating. To him, those 'show of power' are just as minor as swatting small little cockroaches.

All this while, he thought that ego is among one of those genetic accessory nature installed within him. There was never once he thought badly about it, at least not until he got over his first assignment. At this stage of his life, he realized how ego had become his worst enemy. To be able to continue in his current profession, he had to either hide his own ego or wipe it off. He should be safe so as long as he doesn’t do anything flashy. Failing to do so may cause his soul to be lost the fearful death-reaper. On the other hand, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

There are times when he has this great desire to impress someone be it his best buddy or a hot chick. Every time he was about to brag his profession, there is this conscience whispering, "Only insecure trash see themselves as how others perceive them". One of his hardest moments involves any form of interaction between rich glamorous classy beautiful women. He has tons of cash, but he knew very well that he couldn't flash a big bundle in one go, for he understood the consequences.

As time pass by, he could only categorize people as "useful tools" or "useless trash". He wouldn't make a move if he doesn't have a strong reason to interact with a stranger. Anyone who knows his existence is a potential threat. Social life is something which he doesn't want to be involved in. Without a social life, there will no longer be life within him, no fun, no proud moments. What left of him will be nothing more than a lonely shell occupied by an empty soul. Sometimes he pondered if he even has a soul to begin with. A person who deals with death will eventually become death itself.

This is the harsh life of an assassin.

----Written By 3POINT8----

What do think of the story?

Note: I was experimenting with writing styles. In this article, the last sentence of every paragraph is suppose to be the first line of the next paragraph. What do you think of this style? Does it add suspense to the story?