[ WP ] Everyone time someone hurts someone else , they feel an equal amount of pain in return . As a hitman , you have to get pretty creative

I walked into the bar loathing the rest of this grim night. It was n't because it had started raining and will probably for the rest of the night. It was n't because I could not talk to the beautiful woman making eyes at me from a booth in the corner. It was because I hated my job. I work for a large cooperation that has their fat and greedy fingers dipped into the lives of people unfortunate enough to cross them. 
 
 They start off slow usually by blackmailing these doomed individuals into shutting down their local business or to drop a civil rights case against them. The smart ones will have left the state by then and changed their face and name, they know if they do n't then it will end rather unhappily. 
 
 If their slaves are n't obedient enough then they call me to take care of the problem. That's why I'm here at this bar that smells of depression and broken lives. The man is playing pool alone on the far side of the bar. He is wearing khaki pants and dress shirt with some buttons undone, his tie and jacket hung up on the rack. He looks like a normal business man, probably with a dad or a family. All of which are just irrelevant. 
 
 `` How's it goin pal, can I play you a game?'' I ask in my most genuine and friendly voice possible. 
 
 The man looks up from his game and says `` Sssure buddy, if you buy me another drink!'' he slurs as he downs what is probably not his first drink of the night. This will be easier than I thought. I go up to the bar and ask for a whiskey on the rocks, he is going to need it for later tonight. The drink comes and it's aroma fills my sense with alcohol. I grab a vial of the vital black and thick liquid from my coat pocket and put a drop into the drink. 
 
 `` Get back here with my drink!'' the drunken man yells. I walk over to him with a smile on my face almost as if I am too happy to give him this toxic drink. He slams it back and belches obnoxiously in my face, these people never learn how to dignify themselves. 
 
 `` You should probably go get some air outside, you do n't look to well'' I tell him. 
 
 `` That'ssss.... uhh.. oodd..... ideeee......'' he splurts out as he passes out in my arms. I place the man in a chair and text my boss that it's time. 
 
 I wait next to the man in bleak anticipation of what is to come. That innocent, drunk man probably does n't deserve it but it does n't matter. I do n't get a say in this and I need this job. I hear the door open and look over to see my boss stroll in. He was a fat man wearing a white trench coat and a black baseball cap. Everyone knows who this man is and how dangerous things somehow happen when he is around. The bar empties and even the bartender escapes out the back without a care for the property. He walks over to me and grabs a chair to take a seat for the show. 
 
 `` Get on with it then'' he exclaims loudly. 
 
 Punch the passed out man in the face to wake him up. I wince from the pain I feel from the punch but I've felt it so much it becomes a tickle at this point. The man wakes up and seems to sober up immediately because of the scene. 
 
 `` No no no, please. I can keep paying the money I swear, I have a daughter I need to take care of and it was her birthday this month...'' he tries to justify. My boss pulls a dagger from his coat pocket and hands it to me. I hold the weapon in my hand and recognize the still shiny and sharp edge. I blur the sounds out of the man whimpering and sobbing as I begin the job. 
 
 A stab to the right thigh. 
 
 The left thigh. 
 
 The two shoulders. 
 
 Every stab I feel. It hurts badly. It always does, but it feels routine now. I hold back tears as I slice his throat. With that I fall to the ground almost sobbing in pain and feeling broken as I always do. My boss tells me he will clean this up and congratulates me on being a good little slave. I lay on the floor staring at the blood running down the chair and onto the floor towards me. Remember what I said before about the smart ones leaving the state and changing their identity? I wish i could say I was one of them.
