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It's always the same. The dossier is passed to my hand and so it begins. Another name, another face, another life to be snuffed out.
They trust me now. They even pay me upfront. I'm good at what I do, you see. The best. I deliver, with no questions asked.
Each hit brings with it a new challenge, a different way of dealing out death. I pride myself on never using the same method twice. There's more than one way to skin a cat.
Perfect murder is a fine art, and I am an artist of the highest order. I strike with immaculate precision. It doesn't have to be digified, just final. There's a beautiful power in what I do.
My mind is alive with memories of death:
Like that woman's pale face beneath the clear veneer of that woodland pool - so peaceful.
Like that black and charred corpse engulfed in the flames of that burning car - so still.
Like the throats of those gangsters cut to sanguine ribbons - flawless.
It's a lonely business being an assassin, when shadows are your only friends, and your personality is the whatever mask you happen to be wearing.
The victim must never know you're there, even if you are dining at their table. This is the golden rule. Disguise is everything. Whether from near or far, the only purpose is to go all the way.
The tools of my trade are many: blades, poisons, strangling wires, my bare hands - there's more than one way to skin a cat. In this line of work, only one thing is true: if your name's on the list, expect to be dead.
They trust me now. They even pay me upfront. I'm good at what I do, you see. The best. I deliver, with no questions asked.
Each hit brings with it a new challenge, a different way of dealing out death. I pride myself on never using the same method twice. There's more than one way to skin a cat.
Perfect murder is a fine art, and I am an artist of the highest order. I strike with immaculate precision. It doesn't have to be digified, just final. There's a beautiful power in what I do.
My mind is alive with memories of death:
Like that woman's pale face beneath the clear veneer of that woodland pool - so peaceful.
Like that black and charred corpse engulfed in the flames of that burning car - so still.
Like the throats of those gangsters cut to sanguine ribbons - flawless.
It's a lonely business being an assassin, when shadows are your only friends, and your personality is the whatever mask you happen to be wearing.
The victim must never know you're there, even if you are dining at their table. This is the golden rule. Disguise is everything. Whether from near or far, the only purpose is to go all the way.
The tools of my trade are many: blades, poisons, strangling wires, my bare hands - there's more than one way to skin a cat. In this line of work, only one thing is true: if your name's on the list, expect to be dead.
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Very nice. Even though you stole the first three letters of my name.
That was actually rather eery and atmospheric, even though there is blaring sunlight outside.
Nice :D
Nice :D
It's always the same. The dossier is passed to my hand and so it begins. Another name, another face, another life to be snuffed out.
They trust me now. They even pay me upfront. I'm good at what I do, you see. The best. I deliver, with no questions asked.
Each hit brings with it a new challenge, a different way of dealing out death. I pride myself on never using the same method twice. There's more than one way to skin a cat.
Perfect murder is a fine art, and I am an artist of the highest order. I strike with immaculate precision. It doesn't have to be digified, just final. There's a beautiful power in what I do.
My mind is alive with memories of death:
Like that woman's pale face beneath the clear veneer of that woodland pool - so peaceful.
Like that black and charred corpse engulfed in the flames of that burning car - so still.
Like the throats of those gangsters cut to sanguine ribbons - flawless.
It's a lonely business being an assassin, when shadows are your only friends, and your personality is the whatever mask you happen to be wearing.
The victim must never know you're there, even if you are dining at their table. This is the golden rule. Disguise is everything. Whether from near or far, the only purpose is to go all the way.
The tools of my trade are many: blades, poisons, strangling wires, my bare hands - there's more than one way to skin a cat. In this line of work, only one thing is true: if your name's on the list, expect to be dead.
They trust me now. They even pay me upfront. I'm good at what I do, you see. The best. I deliver, with no questions asked.
Each hit brings with it a new challenge, a different way of dealing out death. I pride myself on never using the same method twice. There's more than one way to skin a cat.
Perfect murder is a fine art, and I am an artist of the highest order. I strike with immaculate precision. It doesn't have to be digified, just final. There's a beautiful power in what I do.
My mind is alive with memories of death:
Like that woman's pale face beneath the clear veneer of that woodland pool - so peaceful.
Like that black and charred corpse engulfed in the flames of that burning car - so still.
Like the throats of those gangsters cut to sanguine ribbons - flawless.
It's a lonely business being an assassin, when shadows are your only friends, and your personality is the whatever mask you happen to be wearing.
The victim must never know you're there, even if you are dining at their table. This is the golden rule. Disguise is everything. Whether from near or far, the only purpose is to go all the way.
The tools of my trade are many: blades, poisons, strangling wires, my bare hands - there's more than one way to skin a cat. In this line of work, only one thing is true: if your name's on the list, expect to be dead.
Page: