[ WP ] You are a Supernatural Hitman and many of your hits are for ghosts who wish to move on but ca n't because of the people that killed them

Why do they always show up at night? 
 
 There's no hard and fast rule that ghosts only exist when it's dark out is there? I mean, would it really be such an inconvenience for them to knock on my door and make a normal fucking introduction? But *noooo* it's always 2 or 3 in the morning when they decide that they can finally fit you into their busy schedule of moaning and groaning. 
 
 I woke up with the all too familiar feeling of being watched. My alarm clock's display traveled through a mostly empty bottle of rum, whiskey, whatever the fuck it was, and hit my bloodshot eyes as a jumbled smudge of numbers. 3:02am, or maybe it was 2:03. Who even cares at this point. I took a few deep breaths, turned on the light, and quickly turned around. 
 
 Thankfully, this one decided to wait at the edge of my bed. There was one girl who thought it would be fun to lie down next to me and just stare at my bare ass until I woke up. A week later I'm trying to explain to a hooker with a black eye that I'm not a violent woman beater, I'm just scared of *ghosts* in my bed. Imagine how well that went over. 
 
 Oh, and while I'm complaining - why ca n't they just wake me up? They've got no problem with barging into my home unannounced in the middle of the night, but after that they'd rather politely wait until I get up on my own and see them out of the corner of my eye. How fucking considerate. 
 
 This one looked about 17 or 18 years old, dressed in all white ( the girls always are for some reason ). Her hair came down to the small of her back, and her eyes were wide open, with the pupils fully dilated. If you had covered the bottom half of her face you would have sworn she was screaming her lungs out. 
 
 `` What do you want?'' I asked, probably a little too aggressively. I knew what she wanted. Everyone who came here always wanted the same thing. She did n't reply. Instead, she slowly held out her hand. 
 
 Clenched in her fist was a photo of a man, slightly balding with a scraggly beard. His eyes matched the girl's and his chin had the same sharp point as hers. This was a first. 
 
 Not parents killing their kids, but the kids coming back for revenge. Usually they've been raised from birth to blame themselves for whatever the twisted fucks do to them. I looked at the picture again, and then asked `` Where is he?'' She slowly walked to the door, and then through it. 
 
 Also, can I just say, they NEVER wait for you to get your shoes on, or get your shit together, nah. They just fucking leave and you have to keep up with them or else they come back again the next night. I swear, I hate ghosts almost as much as I hate living humans. 
 
 I scrambled out of bed and made a grab for my shoes - only got hold of one, but it would have to do. She was already out of my apartment. 
 
 We ended up at a three story house in one of the wealthiest sections of the city. She led me right up to the driveway and then paused. They always stopped outside and waited. If they were gone by the time I came out, then I knew it had all worked out. 
 
 All the lights appeared to be off inside. `` Does this house have an alarm system?'' I asked. She shook her head and pointed at the door. She just wanted me to walk in? I slowly grabbed the handle and turned. 
 
 The door swung open swiftly and silently, no alarms going off except for the one in my head that this was a little too easy. I looked back at her, but she was rooted to the spot, waiting for me to go inside and finish the job. 
 
 I crept silently through the elegantly furnished hallway, passing large paintings and expensive looking knick-knacks that looked fuck ugly but I was sure rich people were willing to spend millions on. I came to a large winding staircase, and at the very top I saw a light on in one of the rooms. Why was this so easy? Normally a hit took a few days of planning but here I was, not 30 minutes after seeing that girl and already on my way to off the target. 
 
 I looked into the room and saw the back of his head. He was resting in an armchair, his head lolling slightly from side to side. I could only see the top half of his head, but I was sure it was him. The slight balding, the shape of his head, yeah this was the guy alright. Okay so normally I stage an accident, or maybe shoot from a distance, but tonight I was wearing one shoe, a ripped up tshirt and teddy bear boxers. I guess I could just snap his neck? I started to take a step closer. 
 
 Suddenly the head jerked up. I froze in my tracks, trying to decide whether I should rush him and kill him now, or run back and try again with a better plan. I kept waiting for another movement but it seemed as though he had gone back to sleep. 
 
 *Alright, it's now or never. Just get it over with* I thought. There's no point in prolonging this any more. I started to move towards him, ready to snap his neck in a quick fluid motion and then get the hell out of here. I was maybe a couple steps away when I saw the gun. 
 
 *Wait, what? * 
 
 The blast echoed all throughout the empty house. My target lay on the ground, his head a bloody unrecognizable mass. His hand still tightly wrapped around the gun, now smoking slightly. 
 
 *Okay, now its time to get the fuck out of here* 
 
 As I sprinted back out the way I came, I looked over to where I left the girl before I went inside. There was nobody there. I guess as long as the guy dies, it does n't matter who does the job. 
 
 As I made my way back up my apartment building, my heart rate started to slow down a little. That was definitely the weirdest fucking job I've ever been on. I fumbled with the keys to my apartment and finally got the right one through the lock. 
 
 I collapsed onto my couch, trying to get my head around everything that happened. 
 
 *I did n't even need to do anything, I could have gotten my 8 hours and the guy would still be dead in the morning* 
 
 I rubbed my eyes and swore. There was no way I was going to be able to fall back asleep now. I turned on the TV and watched informercials for about an hour or two, until I started to feel sleepy. The sun was starting to come up, but I did n't care. I turned off the TV and made my way back to the bedroom. 
 
 I woke up again to the feeling of being watched, but that was a constant these days. The alarm clock read 2:54pm, I guess it was about time to eat breakfast. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, pushed myself off of the bed, and walked straight through her.
