Which weapon would you use for a post office robbery?
Comment on what weapon you useâŠ.

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Which weapon would you use for a post office robbery?
Comment on what weapon you useâŠ.

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tw: kidnapping, non-con drugging
The boy skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a tall body lurking in the middle of the street. He fumbled to steady his footing from the brick wall of a man that blocked his way, brows furrowed instantly in annoyance.
The sun was setting beyond the horizon and the sky had gone a dark red, with ashy grey clouds filling the expanse. The mask sitting on the manâs face made the boy initially think this was Mercenary. But when his head tilted down, finally drawing his attention to the smaller boy, he realised it wasnât.
The child instantly went sheepish and blushed in embarrassment, having made a fool out of himself in front of an odd stranger.
âSorry, mister,â he grumbled out, staring up at him with unblinking eyes. He was dressed in a similar get up to Mercenary, with the mask and all. Skulking in the shadows until he found what he was looking for...
The child felt uneasy as the man chuckled under his breath, folding his arms across his chest.
âItâs real creepy lurking on the streets,â the boy sniffed as he imitated his stance, puffing out his chest. âEspecially with a Halloween costume.â
The masked man cocked his head. âAnd donât you think its a little irresponsible to be talking to strangers?â
The child pouted. âI can look after myself! Iâm not a kid.â
âThat so?â came the dryly amused response. The boy nodded his head firmly; he hated people thinking he was some weak brat. Mercenary did it all the time and it grated profusely on his nerves. Giving the man one final sweep, the child hummed and blinked up at him.
âAre you one of those contract killers?â
The masked man didnât move. âYes, I am.â
Oh. The boy wasnât expecting such a blunt answer. Was he telling him because he thought he was harmless? He scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes at him.
âThen can you kill somebody for me?â
The killer shrugged his shoulders, as if in playful exasperation, and reached for his belt. âSure. After Iâve done this job.â
Pinched between his two fingers was a rectangular card, flashing it towards the boy smoothly. He took it from him, all while giving him a perplexed, yet judgmental stare.
âContract killers donât have business cards.â
âThis one does,â he responded with a light chuckle. âHow else are people meant to find me?â
âBut Merceââ The boy caught himself and stumbled to cover his tracks. ââthe people on the television shows say itâs just through the right connections.â
The masked man hummed. âYouâre old enough to tell fiction apart from reality, arenât you?â
The childâs expression wrinkled in anger and he sent him a deadly glare. He flipped over the card and glanced at the front, making a note to ask Mercenary about this guy. He seemed illegitimate and wondered if he was any good at his job at all.
âOf course I am, Iâm not...â His heart sank to his boots and his words fizzled out on his tongue. His eyes were wide as he stared at the name on the front of the card, a name Mercenary had warned him about, a name he was meant to stay away from.
Stupid.
It was Mercenaryâs rival. The rival that was out to kill them both. Along the ground came a bright stream of light, and the sound of a car slowly rolling up the pavement. The boy swallowed the parched lump in his throat and subtly glanced behind him, watching the black car come to a stop.
He bit the inside of his cheek and turned his focus back on the killer, who was already staring at him. The child could almost feel the smirk.
âI have to go...â He whispered shakily. He couldnât hide the fear in his voice or his body. âI have to go.â
He turned to run, but a strong force yanked him back by the collar of his shirt, sending him crashing onto the hard floor. He scraped his hands and hissed in pain.
âStay a bit,â the masked man cooed, his haunting steps coming closer by the second. âAfter all, I did say I had a job to do.â
The child scrambled onto his feet, ready to break off in a run. But he felt huge arms grab him and yank him back into the hard body, pinning him there. He instantly began thrashing frantically, swinging his legs in the air as he was carried back.
âHelp!â He screamed, shredding his vocal chords as tears welled in his eyes. âMercenary, help! Heââ
A gloved hand closed around his mouth and nose, cutting him off. His fingers dug into the manâs wrist as he squirmed uselessly, gasping in pain when he felt the smack of hard leather seats beneath his body.
He lashed out with his legs and kicked viciously as the killer climbed in afterwards, shutting the car door behind him. There was something in his hand and the child cried out in fear, hands scrambling at the locked door opposite.
âNoââ He wailed, terror flashing in his eyes as a hand wound through his hair and tugged him back. Something sharp pricked at his neck, and the boy tried reaching lazily for the door handle. His vision started swirling and his arm slumped against the seats.
Voices became too hazy to hear, and in a daze, the small child fell deeply unconscious.
continued here
meanwhile in china
Sanguis Sanguinem Meum (Blood of my Blood) by @wewantreylo
Rating: E || Status: In Progress || Betaâd by @loveofescapism || For @riaria84
Summary: International hitman Kylo Ren meets his match when he goes after the same contract as Rey Niima. Intrigued by the knife-wielding assassin, he proposes a partnership. But when both parties are keeping secrets, how can they move forward and learn to trust each other?
Chapter 12 Excerpt: Rey wondered what Phasma would say if she confessed to everything. Would the casino owner reprimand her for getting in over her head? Would she mock her for letting Kylo get under her skin? Would she open a contract on Rey? Or worse, Kylo?
She sighed, unsure what action Phasma would take. One thing was certain of though, was when Phasma discovered Rey was in a partnership with Kylo Ren, theyâd have words. Rey just needed to be prepared.
Phasma wasnât an active assassin anymore, but that didnât mean she didnât know her way around a weapon. The woman was as cunning and cold-blooded as they came. Rey would never underestimate her. She would advise Kylo to do the same. Just in case.
As if hearing her thoughts, she heard the bedsheets rustle behind her.
âRey.â Kyloâs voice was low and unwavering. âCome back to bed.â
@glorious-idiot @bunilicious @reysexualkylo @rebelrebelreylo @nancylovesreylo @thereylowritingden @reylofanficclub @sweetkyloren @kylosgirl9593 @commandercrouton @queenvulca @tazwren @grlie-girl @theskiddlyboop @deedreamer @midnightbluefox @rey-kapkeyk @headinfantasy @housereysistance @tobemadeofglass @antheia21 @dreamsoflavendar @littlemistake @cokieisme Â
Killing Silvester
He had taught her all she knew about killing, and now he was her prey. He didnât even know about it. But Steffi had no choice, even if Silvester was her mentor.
This job went too far. Silvester should have never accepted it. She didnât care what kind of sticky situation theyâd be in if he had refused, it would have been better than going through with it.
Killing a teenage girl â that wasnât okay. Not even for stone-cold killers. Some things, you just didnât do.

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Part 2ïżŒ
Hired killers
Violent Post Office robber, part 1