The Man, Void

                             VOID

I pulled up in the front yard of Rocco's empire, and the moment I stepped out of my car, all eyes turned on me.

The men looked at me like I was some danger - well, I was - while the ladies looked at me with a mix of fear and lust.

Like sturdy pillars of strength, my broad shoulders commanded attention. And as I moved forward, the atmosphere itself seemed to acknowledge my presence.

I could see it in those men, they wished to be me, have my kind of strength. But that was all it could ever be - a wish.

My name is Void. It isn't some foreign name with a sweet meaning. It's the void you know - the word meaning empty.

I'm called that because I'm void of emotions, void of fun, void of trust, void of empathy. Show me kindness, and I'll think you tryna mock me. But give me a gun, knives, or any sweet object with the ability to draw blood, and I'll show you just how amazing life can be.

You can call me whatever the hell you want - a killer, a demon, a wizard. I like it. But don't ever call me good. Never. I hate being good - it's weakness. My entire life, I've breathed in nothing but violence, death. And I like it that way.

I'm called the King of the night for a reason. I'm a King because there's none like me. Yes, you can fúcking call me a god. I'm my own boss and the most desired by every Mafia Lord. Send me on a mission and be guaranteed it's a done deal. It doesn't matter who I'm sent to kill, or torture. It doesn't matter if he's the Mayor or the God-damn President. Just meet my demands and your enemy is down to the floor.

Of course, I'm fucking expensive. For a man who never fails on a mission, I should be fucking expensive.

Still, they want me. I have mighty men who would give up their empire just to have me work with them.

I have become a terror to them - every man in the underworld. A lot of Mob bosses have tried all they could to buy me over, make me work for them. Of course, who wouldn't want the most powerful hitman in the world on his side? But Void works for no one. I am my own boss and only accept offers that I'm pleased with.

I'm called King of the night because I work only at night. No matter how urgent the situation is, it needs to be done at night. As a result, most men do not sleep at night because they never know when they'd be on my list and when I'd attack. They fear my name.

I knew where Rocco's office was and I came across a lot of men, women, on my way there. There were those who were gambling, those who were drinking and laughing loudly, and those who were being entertained by women. But the moment they noticed my presence, their laughters died down.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to. But last night, Damien had texted me, telling me the motherfucker needed me on a job. 

I took the stairs and in no time, I was at Rocco's office. Two men were beside the door, but they didn't dare to interrogate me in any way. I walked in without knocking and found a bitch kneeling before him, his côck deep into her throat.

"Holy fuck! Void! You got an issue with knocking?!" He was shocked.

Hearing my name, the bitch pulled away from the fucker's côck and looked at me with widened gaze. Her eyes contained shock, fear and lust. I get that all the time.

Rocco took his hand to the back of her head and pushed her face down to his côck.

"I didn't ask you to stop." He groused.

The bitch took his côck back into her mouth and resumed with the head bob.

Pleasure shadowed Rocco's face, his hand now holding the lady's hair. Motherfucker.

I drew back a chair and took my seat across from him.

"Details." The word came out pithy.

He shot his brows at me for a second, wondering what I meant.

"Oh." He nodded when he realized I was referring to the job. Slow mother-fúcking thinker.

The bitch was still sucking him deep, and I could see the struggle on his face as he pulled out an envelope from one of his drawers and slid to my side.

"That's the target."

I opened the envelope which contained some pictures. And my eyes glinted the moment I found the face. I looked up at him, throwing him a ridiculous stare. Then, I hurled the envelope roughly to the table.

"What the fúck is this?" My voice was dangerously low.

Immediately, he pulled the bítch's face away from his cóck and signaled her to leave. She left immediately, while he fixed his wondering cóck into the prison they were meant to be.

"Listen, Void..."

"You tryna mock me or what? Why the fúck is a bitch my target?" I cut him.

I've never had to deal mainly with bitches. Hell, they're too weak for my liking. I prefer men so I can have fun in torturing them before sniffing the life out of them. Women were too weak and would definitely die even before I start with them. Where's the fun in that?

Don't get me wrong, I've killed women as well - a lot. But I've never had them as my main target. If a woman is the target, he should get some of his low dogs to do it for him. That task is too low for someone like me.

"Just hear me out." He pitched toward the table. "I know she's a woman, but trust me, she's far too dangerous."

My eyes shimmered at the mention of that. How dare he call a woman dangerous? She might be dangerous to him and his weaklings, but never to me.

"I... I know she's no match for you." He rose his hand. "And that's the reason I need you for this job. I don't want one of my men messing it up."

He touched the keys on his laptop and turned the laptop to me. A clip from a CCTV footage was being played on it.

The target was in the clip, skillfully fighting off the men that surrounded her. I watched how gruesomely she killed them before leaving the building, holding a briefcase.

"See that? She killed Marko and his men." Rocco commented as I watched the clip.

Marko and his men? The fúck?!

Marko was a successful man in the business and Rocco's closest associate. He was killed four days ago. Investigations were being made, and apparently, Rocco had been able to get hold of the CCTV footage. So, Marko's killer was a pu$sy?

"You see that? That lady is crazy, and dangerous. See the briefcase she ran off with?" The clip was replaying. "It contains some very vital documents. Those documents need to be retrieved, Void, otherwise, my empire and that of four others will be at stake. The other Dons have no idea it's missing yet. And I'd want it to remain that way until it's retrieved - retrieved as soon as possible. See? This is the reason I can't send one of my men for the job. They might fail, they might succeed. But with you, there's only success. Please, Void. I need these documents retrieved as soon as possible."

I reclined in my seat, taking the envelope again. She was a skilled fighter, a ruthless killer - I'd give it to her. But for someone like me, I'd break her bones before she catches her next breath. Perhaps, killing her won't be so boring. She'll be a new adventure for me.

"Name?" I asked, going through the pictures.

"Jerah Whitaker." He answered. "My men have been able to gather very few details on her. I hope you can do the rest."

Done with the pictures, I lobbed them onto the table.

"So, what exactly do you want with her?" I interlaced my fingers, giving him a hard look like I was the boss.

His eyes lit up with desperation. "I need you to retrieve the documents, know who she's working for, and kill her when you're done."

Quite simple - I thought.

****†****†****†****†****†

                           JERAH

"What type do you want, sir?" I asked with a warm smile, my scratch pad and pen in my hand.

I waited patiently as he did whatever on his phone before looking up at me.

"Let me have the cappuccino coffee." He answered.

"Okay. And what else, sir?"

"The sunny side-up will be okay."

"Alright. Your order will be ready any moment."

I dipped my head and walked away, returning to the small kitchen behind my counter.

It definitely wasn't easy running a coffee shop alone, but I loved it.

In less than thirty minutes, the man's order was ready. I put them on a platter and proceeded to meet him.

"All ready, sir." I beamed as I set it down on his table.

"That was quick. Thank you." He flashed a smile at me, his eyes lingering longer on my legs. This made me uncomfortable and I quickly stepped away from him. My legs were properly covered, I made sure to wear long dresses all the time. So, I wondered why he was staring.

There were about three other people in the cafe, so I felt saved.

I glanced at the large window and noticed the wind had fallen my sign post again. Good Lord! Why was the wind being so violent with me?

I walked out and lifted it from the floor, setting it the way it should be. I'll definitely need to call someone to come fix it soon.

Just as I was about walking in, I had that feeling again - the creepy feeling I've been having for the past three days. I couldn't explain it, but I just felt watched; like someone was intentionally watching me. Stalking me.

I put my hand on my rosary and cast a quick look around. But my eyes came in contact with so many people, moving cars, buildings. My coffee shop was by the side of the road which was always very busy. I scoured my eyes around but couldn't find anyone staring at me in particular.

Still, that feeling lingered that I was being watched. Even on my way home, or to the church, or anywhere else, I could swear that person was behind me. But each time I turn for a look, I find no one.

The previous day, I had told Mother Heather about it. She prayed with me and told me it was probably the devil trying to instill fear in me. However, she advised me to contact the police the moment I see anyone suspicious.

I couldn't shake off the feeling. Someone was stalking me. But for what reason, I do not know.