Attack on Titan One-shots

X Marks the Target

Author's Note: Levi is 24 for this story. Too much of an age difference would be weird.

Petra Ral was an assassin.

It worked for her. She was innocent, sweet, charming, beautiful-

Ruthless, cold-hearted, greedy, emotionless-

"That it?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, riffling through the wad of cash she'd received from her last job. "Seems I should be paid a bit more than that."

Her boss studied her through lidded eyes, then sighed. "Alright Ral, here's an extra hundred. Take it or leave it."

Petra smirked, reaching across the counter and snatching the bill. "Thanks, boss."

She walked out of the room, her 5'2 frame never betraying the fact that she was a killer.

"Come back here for a second, Ral!" Her boss yelled. "We're not done!"

Petra let out an exasperated huff, peeking her head back through the door. "What is it?"

"You've got another job," the man said. "Here's the file."

"Already?" Petra grumbled. "I just got back. Give me a break."

"Sorry, Ral." Her boss replied. "But we're short on staff and need to keep up with demands." He handed her the Manila folder. "You leave tomorrow morning. Read this through tonight."

Petra took the file, weighing it in one hand. "It's pretty light," she remarked.

"Yeah, we don't have much on this guy," her boss answered. "He's real secretive. Just do your best with what you have."

At home, Petra immediately sat down and began flipping through the contents.

"Levi Ackerman," she read. "Male, age 24, height is 5'3, weight 150 lbs, occupation is automobile manufacturer..." She skimmed through the rest of the information, her eyes landing on his picture.

He was a fairly handsome man, despite his small stature. His eyes were steel gray, highlighted by black lashes and a pale face. His black hair was fashioned in an undercut, and from what she could see from the half-body shot, he was rather muscular.

"Boss was right," Petra said to herself. "There really isn't much info on this guy."

She was about to put the papers away, when a smaller piece caught her attention. She picked it up, squinting at the small type.

"Ahhh..." Petra murmured. "This could be a bit troublesome. He's got no record whatsoever. Nothing, not even exact date of birth or the hospital he was born at. No blood type, no country of origin...jeez, I don't even know how long he's been in America."

Something was definitely wrong with this guy. It was as if all his data records had been wiped, or maybe never put into the computer to begin with.

Really, the only noteworthy thing was that his location and schedule was known. He was currently living in Florida. He lived alone, apparently, and left home each day at 6:00 a.m. to go to work. He got back at 6:30 p.m. and would go out to eat every Saturday at a seafood restaurant.

Well, hopefully she was just overthinking things. Maybe it would all turn out as planned, and she could complete her mission without a hitch.

Hopefully.

***********************************

Petra stepped off her plane on Friday the next day at 1:30 p.m. She was dressed like a normal tourist, wearing a flowery blouse, kaki shorts, and flip flops. Her overly large handbag hid the fact that she also carried a multitude of weapons, lethal poisons, and other various assassination tools.