"So what are your last words, Andrew?" asked a dark haired man in an armchair in front of a saggy, mildewed couch. The boy seated in the couch rolled his eyes. "Yes you are going to attempt to kill me but I really didn't think you were going to do it by using corny cliches." "You've got a smart mouth to be 14," the assassin smiled, pulling out a pistol and laying it in his lap. "Such a fool boy, staring death right in the face and sassing it. A nice beating would do you good," he frowned, stroking the gun. "Yes and a muzzle would fit you perfectly. Maybe a nice yellow color to match you teeth," the boy said, stroking his chin. " Let me show you where smart mouths get you." In a second, the man had picked the gun back up and shot the boy 3 times, once in the heart and twice in the head.
"Goodness you have to do muuuch better than that," the boy laughed as the bullets popped out of his head and chest and the skin reformed. The dark haired man's face grew pale as Andrew stood up. "I suppose it's my turn isn't it?" he said, as he ran a hand through his messy light brown hair. The man gulped and his heart beat so loud that he was sure that the cockroaches scattered around the floor and crawling up the wall could hear it. Andrew rolled up his sleeves meticulously, making sure each sleeve was equally up. "Don't, I-I...some guy sent me to do this! Don't kill me, I'll tell you his name!" he stuttered, sinking back in the chair and covering his face, as if it would do any good.
"Why would I ask you for his name when I've already killed him, my good sir?" the boy grinned. Green electricity sparked from his hands and sent the assassin into darkness. "Pitiful assassins these days," Andrew said, sitting back down and picking up the teacup from the end table beside him,"Don't even know the difference between a human and something else."