THE RUN AND GO : JOSHLER

1 : KID

"Dammit."

Tyler grit his teeth and whipped his head wildly around him, desperately looking for any witnesses.

"Dammit dammit dammit!"

He'd been here too long. This alley wasn't the most ideal spot, but Tyler couldn't take it anymore. He had to do it. Now, where to dispose of the-

"Hey, Mad Gear."

Tyler snapped his head over to the side, where one of his Clique members was standing in the shadows. Tyler didn't even remember what the guy's name was. Everyone back at headquarters had been fighting to go on the mission with Tyler, which annoyed him immensely. Instead of actually going on the mission, he was wasting his time listening to his own Clique fighting with each other. So he had chosen a random guy, just to get under everyone else's skin that wanted to go.

But this guy, whoever he was, was getting on Tyler's nerves. He was a terrible shot, terrible watch, terrible backup. Tyler was surprised he even passed initiation.

"What?!" Tyler barked, rolling his eyes.

"T-There's-"

"Spit it out!" Tyler snapped, gripping his knife tightly in his hand. Blood ran down the side of his face. It drenched his shirt, his pants, his shoes. He licked his lips, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell, his bloody black shirt sticking to his chest.

Tyler loved this feeling. He reveled in the fact that he had the power to simply take something as beautiful and complex as life. Power. He was tempted by it. He was controlled by it.

"There's a kid," the Clique member hissed.

Tyler set his jaw and slowly turned toward the man. "What did you say?" he demanded, throwing his knife up in the air and catching it again.

The Clique member gulped, but still didn't show his fear. He knew what would happen if he did.

"There's a kid. A-A boy. A little younger than you," the man continued. "R-Right at the end of the alley. Near the car."

Tyler cocked his head to the side and looked his Clique member straight in the eye. Even in the darkness of night, Tyler could see sweat dripping down the side of the man's face. "Did he see us?" Tyler asked, mock sweetness dripping in his voice. He grinned wickedly, baring his slightly crooked teeth.

The Clique member took a step back and squared his shoulders. "Yes," he replied, his voice streaked with worry.

All at once, Tyler's knife was at the Clique member's throat.

"You had one job," Tyler mused, smiling as he pressed the metal against his throat. "And you didn't do that job. You know what the means?" he asked sweetly.

The Clique member sputtered to breathe against the knife. Despite Tyler's smaller frame, his technique was flawless. There was no way the Clique member was getting out of this alive.

"It means," Tyler sing-songed, "you disobeyed me. And that-" His eyes darkened, and in one swift motion he dragged the knife across the man's throat. "-deserves punishment."

The man crumbled to the cement with a haunting thud, eyes forever shut.

Tyler rolled his eyes and huffed like a spoiled child, not a notorious murderer. He kicked the body with the toe of his sneaker.