Do I Wanna Know?

Candy was quite notorious.

As a murderer, he did everything asked of him -- and more. Known for his specialised work, people came to him when they wanted a message sent and, obviously, blood on the floor. If there was some sort of site for reviewing murderers and such, he was sure he’d have five star reviews. However, his style, both in fashion and bloodshed, was often picked apart; the revealing clothing, the pinks, the hearts, the candy. Needless to say, a lot of people didn’t take him seriously.

That was a good thing, he always said. It was so easy to get under someone’s skin when they didn't expect it, almost laughably so. Acting naive, it came as second nature to Candy, something as easy as faking an accent, or crying on command, or being able to schmooze. It always helped that the people falling for it were exactly the people who had too.

His style of working, awfully close and quite dangerous, came as an enigma for some of his clients. He was in it for the long haul, and he constantly reminded others of that. The target would end up dead, there was no doubt about it, but the time frame could be anything. Usually, this was time to get close to the target, learn their weaknesses, and ask Vega, Ace and Kip for any help he could get. The long time frames were also very commonly picked apart, but he got results.

And people loved results.

So it came as no surprise when, while sitting at a crowded bar by his lonesome, he heard someone clear their throat, “Are you Candy?”

Candy didn’t turn to see the stranger behind him, but he did smile, “Who’s asking?”

“I want someone gone.”

Candy’s smile grew at the sentence, and he finally turned around in his chair to see who was there. They looked a mess, even by his standards, and he had met some messy people. They stood with their hands close to their chest, holding what looked like papers tightly to themself. They weren’t looking at Candy, instead choosing to stare down at the floor, and he chuckled.

“That’s what I’m good at, luckily for you,” He wasted no time in standing, brushing his hands over himself as if he had gotten dirty by simply sitting in the bar, “Why don’t we go somewhere more private, and then talk?”

He hooked his arm around the shoulders of the client, laughing a bit as he led them to the back of the bar; a quieter and more secluded place. They moved with him like they didn’t want to at all, walking as stiff as a board and not looking up from the floor. They seemed incredibly, horribly nervous, which he saw quite often in his line of work. It’s hard to know that you have, to an extent, taken someone’s life. He was just the knife in their hand, at this point.

Once they were in the back, Candy let go of their shoulders and leant against a wall, still smiling wide, “So, how can I help you, sweetheart?”

The client paused for a bit, and then hesitantly handed Candy the papers they were holding close to them. He took them carefully, said a quiet thank you, and then checked through what he was given. A picture of a man was on the top of the pile, and under it were several more pictures of him, generally going about his business, there was a piece of lined paper, which had his name, address, and other such information on it and lastly there was an envelope.

“The envelope has five thousand in it, I can pay more if needed.”

Candy chuckled, “No no, this should be fine. May I know why you want this man dead?”

The client was silent for a while, before shrugging a little, “He’s a bad man. That’s all.”

Candy didn’t prod that specific topic further, instead asking, “Any specialised things you’d like me to do?”

“Uh, if you could just leave his laptop near his body, I think that would be fine.”

“I can do that, perfectly fine for me!” Candy cooed, “I will warn you, I work slow, but I always deliver. Are you fine with that?”

The client nodded.

“Perfect! I’ll get started ASAP, so you should run along now, ok?” Candy patted them on the shoulder, “Oh, and if anyone asks, we didn’t share a word with each other, get me?”

The client nodded once more, and then wasted no time getting out of the bar. Once they were out of sight, and he was truly alone once more, he let his smile drop and sighed deeply.

“I have a lot of work to do.”