Kill 1: Greed
"Mr Martin, please I need this job" Joe begged as he stared up at his boss, his eyes pleading. It was that same look every day. Why was he complaining when it was his fault for being such a crappy employee?
"Joe you know I have no use for a guy that has no talent".
"But Mr Martin, I've been working for you for the past fifteen years of my life. You promised I could keep the job so long as I never get promoted. Why are you making me leave now?" Joe asked with a look that was torn between betrayal and confusion.
"Joe. You're a horrible employee and despite how long you stay at the office, you spend most of the time slacking off"
"That's not true! I spend all day and night in this god forsaken hellhole working my butt of for you and your good for nothing business" Joe bellowed in anger as he stood up from his seat.
"How dare you say such things. After all the years I kept you"
"Kept me? Yeah you kept me because I was the only guy out there desperate enough to dedicate fifteen years of his life working for a greedy ass douche with little pay and no pension entitlement". That struck a chord in Martin and he could feel the anger rise in him.
"Get out of my sight before I call security on you!" Martin said as he glared at Joe who returned the glare with equal intensity. They continued their staring contest until Joe finally turned around and left the office.
"This isn't over Martin. You'll regret this" was the last thing Joe said before slamming the door behind him leaving his boss alone in his office. Turning his gaze towards the window, he gazed at the large buildings and busy street. Ah he loved America, there were so many idiots here that he could employ. Those people who were too poor to afford a lawyer and his business was very secluded.
When he first got into this pottery business he was just a dumb kid trying to 'earn' an extra buck the easy way. But in hindsight he had stumbled on a gold mine. He made thousands of dollars a year and lived in a large mansion in Los Angeles.
He didn't need Joe, he could just find some other poor person to hire. Probably in some bar where people would come to drown out life and pretend they were different people. And that was when he heard a knock on his door. Was Joe back for more? Nah, that guy was long gone.
"Who is it?" he asked. Maybe that idiot Rick forgot something in the office and came back to get it.
"Is this Martin Joey?" asked a young feminine voice. That was strange, he didn't recognise that voice at all. He only had one female employee and she had died last year at the ripe age of seventy. That voice sounded far too young. Uncertainly he replied.
"Yes, and might I ask who this is?" he asked.
"Elise Marconi. I'm your new assistant" the voice replied calmly. "May I come in?".
"You may" he replied as he settled back into his seat. Pushing the door open a young woman stepped into the office. She was dressed in a red shirt and blue skirt . She had shoulder length black hair and bright blue eyes. A pretty young woman.
"Nice to meet you sir" she said as she closed the door behind her. He could vaguely remember being told he had an appointment with a young woman but he was so busy he almost forgot.
"I see, well then take a seat" he said and the woman obliged with a small smile. Taking a deep breath he spoke. "I'll cut to the chase Miss Elise. I need someone who's good at taking notes, has good memory and is good at designing. You'll be working twelve hours a day with Sunday as your day off.
"And what exactly is the agreed pay package?" she asked. Straight to the point, he hated that. Oh well he could just start her out with a reasonable amount of pay and when she officially becomes his employee he could create a situation that would give him an excuse to keep her at that same amount. Just like Joe.
"Around $150 per month. Since you're just a beginner".
"I see. But I believe I sent you my file a week ago, I'm not just a beginner. And considering the quality of urns this place produces I don't think that's a fair amount" she said with straight face. Martin didn't like people that tried to explain things to him, at least things that put him under suspicion.
"Sorry but that's all I can pay you for now. This business simply can't afford paying you anymore, we're on a tight budget" Martin said, he could feel a frown forming on his face. 'Don't make matters over complicated girl' he thought in irritation.
"Mr Martin I'm willing to work with you at lowest, $600 a month" she said as she leaned back on her seat.
"And why do you think I can pay that much?" he asked. He couldn't let his irritation get the better of him. He was at work so he needed to maintain a professional mask.
"Your company has an annual budget of $780 000 000 per year. Not to mention that other mid-class enterprises owe you quite some large sums of money" she explained. Damn, this girl was way too sharp, he couldn't just hire her and be done with it. This was the last time he would ever waste his money on adverts, they drew the wrong kind of attention.
"Miss Elise, I'm not going any higher than $150" he said firmly. Strangely, the girl smiled happily at him for moment. Then in another moment she stood.
"Then I have to politely decline your job offer" she stated. He had to say, he was expecting her to give up eventually but he expected more of a fight. Or maybe he was just thinking of Joe. "Mr Martin. If you wish to have a successful business then you should try to improve the conditions of your employment" she said as she turned back to the door. "You shouldn't be a greedy douche" she said.
Feeling both surprised and insulted by her words he instantly stood up retorted. Patience was never Martin's strong point.
"How dare you say that! Do you know who you're talk-" he said when she cut him off.
"3465" she said with her back to him.
"Think, and you'll figure it out" she said. And with that she closed the door behind her, leaving Mr Martin wondering just what in the world she was talking about. Deciding to think nothing of it he got back to packing his things. 'It's already 9:30. I should head home' he thought as he grabbed his brief case and jacket.
"Just what was that woman talking about? What do those numbers mean…3465" he muttered as he placed on his Jacket and adjusted his tie. Then realisation hit him. THE SAFE! Immediately he grabbed the telephone and pressed the alert button. Within seconds it was picked.
"Yes sir" said a voice on the other side.
"Head to the safe immediately, we have an emergency" he said urgently.
"Yes sir" the man replied obediently. Placing it back he quickly made his way out the door over to the elevator. Tapping the '3rd floor' button he waited anxiously for it to reach. That money would cover his retirement. No way in hell was he gonna let some girl make off with it.
No sooner had he made it to the floor did he realise he was sweating uncontrollably. The manner in which he was scrambling for his money was akin to that of parent trying to protect his child, albeit his reasons where less noble. The doors slid open and he immediately ran out. His shoes echoed through the empty hallway as he made his way through. Where the hell were those guards? They should have already been here.
Walking over to the door at the end of the hallway he typed in the code and pushed the door open. There it was. The safe that kept all 'his' money protected. Walking up to it he could feel sweat building up in his palms. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it was gonna explode out of his chest. Hesitating for a second he typed the code '3465' and the door opened and revealed a large pile of untouched notes, exactly as he left them
"What the hell? They're still here. But how did that woman know?" he asked himself.
"Yes sir" said the guard's voice behind him. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down he turned back to face his men and gasped. It was her.
"What? What are you doing here?" he asked in confusion. The woman stood at the door. He couldn't see her face properly since he didn't bother switching on the lights, but there was no mistaking that strange look she was giving him
"There no need to worry Mr Martin. I just want to speak with you" she said in a low soothing voice that sent chills down his spine.
"How did you know the code?" he asked.
"You gave it to me?" she replied casually.
"Lies, I only met you tonight" he countered. "Where are my guards?" he asked. He was sure he heard one of them just now. Raising her hand up she held a tape recorder in her hand and with the press of a button a voice came up.
"Yes sir" said the voice. Now he felt uncomfortable. If she was looking for money she could have taken in it without his knowledge. So what did she want?
"Mr Martin. You haven't been a very good person" she said with a playful smile, as though she was scolding a child for stealing.
"What?". Why was she staring at him like that? Why was she smiling so gently at him.
"All your life you've cheated good people out of their hard earned money without the smallest amount of guilt. Why?" she asked. Her calm and glassy voice made him feel so small.
"What are you talking about I treat all my employee's well" he retorted. "And why is that any of your concern".
"Joe T Connery. His spent most of his life working for you at a low price and produced some the best sculptures for you. He practically made your success" she said.
"What! Are you an acquaintance of his-?" he said when she cut him off.
"Lucy fox. She died last year at the age of seventy. Yet you refused to pay her retirement fee despite the fact that you had a contract". Sweat was building up his palms, his gut felt warm and tight.
"Well sh-sh-she violated the terms of our ag-agreement" he said nervously. What was he to do? He couldn't just let her go, she could go to the police. Maybe he should knock her out. Yeah, if he could manage that then he would be able to lock her up somewhere…No, there was no was no way he could pull something like that off.
"Are you saying you're innocent then, Mr Martin?" she asked. Damn it, just what was it about this woman that scared him. She didn't look dangerous, she was small and thin. Surely he could overpower her. Yet, he was still scared.
"Y-Yes, I'm innocent" he replied. At that reply she smiled at reassuringly. Then suddenly, before he even had time to react she pulled a knife from her sleeve and throw it at him. The blade hit right in his stomach and instantly punctured through his skin
"AHH!" he screamed in pain as he clutched his bleeding stomach. It hurt so bad he thought he was gonna fall over. He could feel his hands getting wet from a red liquid that leaked from his shirt and fall in small droplets on the floor.
"You shouldn't tell lies Mr Martin. It's not a nice habit" she scolded.
"You're crazy! Are you trying to kill me you bitch!" he yelled at her with look that torn between pained and fearful. He was about to run at her, if he could just get his arms on her he'd be able to overpower her. But just as he moved, she threw another knife and it pierced through his leg causing him to let out another anguished scream.
"AHH!" he looked up at her smiling face with pleading eyes. "Please stop. I beg you" he said.
"Now Mr Martin, if I just let you go you'll never learn. Just endure a bit longer. It'll all be over in a second" she as began walking over to him. Backing away from her he yelped in pain when his leg hurt and he fell backwards. She was coming closer, way too close. Using arms he pushed his body back frantically
"Please, I don't want to die" he said with tears welling up his eyes. He couldn't go this way, he still hadn't retired yet, he wasn't richest man in Los Angeles yet. There was no way he could die here. Suddenly he felt his back hit the wall. 'No way. I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die' ringed through his head as the woman stopped in front of him. Her eyes never left him, her smile never vanished. Reaching behind her she pulled out a revolver and pointed it at his head.
"Please, don't do this to me" he said as tears streamed down his cheek. Kneeling down in front of him with the gun still pointed at his face she used her other hand to caress his cheek.
"Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright" was the last thing he heard.
This had better been Good. He wasn't expecting Mr Martin to call him back to the office after that, maybe he wasn't done talking yet. Well whatever that old bastard had to say to he was ready for it. Walking down the empty hallway he walked up to the man's office door. Seeing no need to show respect he just opened the door.
"What the hell do you want!" he yelled. But soon as he saw Mr Martin he lost his voice. Mr Martin sat on his seat with blood leaking his head. Part of his skull was missing and his suit was covered in blood. "Oh my God" he said as he stared at his employers dead body. Noticing something on the floor he gasped when he looked down.
Written in what he could only assume was blood was two words.
Well here it is. Please read and review.