The Postman

The ultimate killing machine.

He had been created, prodded, picked, turned around, flipped, designed ... destined to kill. Never once had he failed at his job, and he had absolutely no intentions of failing now.

Sitting out on the balcony of a hotel he'd rented for the evening, he smoked his cigar and watched with his sharp eyes for the next job. A middle-aged man came traipsing into his hotel room with two women on each arm. Pulling out the binoculars, he snorted at the sight before him. The older man held on to two teenage prostitutes, both too beautiful and probably too smart to be in the predicament they were in ... and obviously too young.

Logan sighed and leaned forward in his chair as the man hungrily groped the two girls. His victim of the evening was a tall salt and pepper haired man with a muscular though lean build. The younger of the two was a beautiful Asian girl with black hair cascading down her back and dressed in bright, happy colors. It was really quite the contrast.

Pulling the cigar from his jeans pocket, Logan bit the tip, lit it and exited the balcony. With a slow swagger, he ignored the several pairs of frightened or anxious eyes trying, or so it seemed, to past through the depths of his body and into his soul.

He had become used to these things. Logan built the hard exterior to save himself from the disappointment of ever feeling sorry for any person. Of course, being the big, scary asshole had its perks. No one would ever dream of stepping to him and tell him to put out the Cuban he huffed on as he passed a shocked looking manager near his exit. The cold steel of the gun burned angrily against his back as he stepped through the moving traffic and into the posh hotel.

Although it was a completely insane and stupid (in his opinion) idea, Logan was given instructions to specifically handle the job at this hotel. He was neither going to argue nor would he refuse. Refusing resulted in the price of Logan losing his own head, and he swore he would never die at the hands of the scum he worked for.

"Sir!" The woman at the lobby held up an arm and frowned as he ignored her. "Sir, you cannot smoke in here!" Logan turned with a look so sharp, it sliced right through the small, mousy woman's abdomen. She couldn't be any taller than five foot, with her vibrant red hair, and bright brown eyes. He held up his cigar and motioned towards as if asking, "This one?". The woman nodded, showing regret all over her face. Logan sighed, ground the cigar into the palm of his hand, and walked towards the elevators. The woman looked about ready to faint, but he couldn't be bothered.

Looking over his shoulder, he waved to her with the burned hand but stopped in mid-wave when he bumped into someone.

"Watch it!" He scowled and was momentarily knocked off balance.

"You first," was the retort from the feminine voice and Logan, being the man that he was, had to turn and get at least a glance of the woman who possessed that beautiful voice. Platinum blond hair contrasted perfectly on cocoa skin, and Logan felt himself wanting to pounce when he noticed the long curvy legs that belonged to whoever that beautiful woman was.

She seemed upset about something, and though Logan didn't care much about that and was really more concerned with how the cargo pants clung to her ass, he would have used that to his advantage. Unfortunately, he had a job to take care of.

"Ororo!" Logan thought he was going to be knocked into the entire night. The beautiful Asian girl he'd just spotted dancing around half-naked with grandpa in the hotel room was chasing after the beautiful platinum-haired woman. "Sorry!" she absently told him in passing, and once she caught up with the woman, the two began a heated argument. Thanking God he had a pair of balls, Logan lit up his cigar once more and headed onto the elevator. The vibrating phone on his waist irritated him, but he knew he could not ignore it.

"What?" he asked roughly into the phone.

"The deal is sealed. Do your job," and the phone clicked on the other hand. Just noticing the nervous bellboy in the elevator with him, Logan shrugged. "Don't know why people tell me things I already know." He wanted to chuckle, but chuckling had always been awkward for him.

Once the elevator opened, Logan's boots hit plush burgundy carpet.

Two assholes stood guarding the door, which would lead to the old man and before either of them could react, Logan pulled out his Silencer and blasted them away with two shots, hitting them both right between the eyes. He looked around for any witnesses and continued towards the room.

A girl's laughter could be heard coming from the room, and Logan released a heavy sigh. Clutching his Silencer in his right hand and the key he'd been given in the other, he slid the card through the slot and opened the hotel room.

The future Mayor was chasing a teenage girl around the room with his pants down and erect penis bouncing.

What a fucking way to go, he thought bitterly. Lifting the gun, he pointed it towards Rick Halson and aimed for the back of his head. One shot and he was down.

Screaming, the girl let Halson fall over her and she collapsed to the ground. He watched her scream and clutch the sides of her head, pulling her blond hair out. Mascara ran down her cheeks and her face had turned red. She pushed the dead Halson off her and crawled her way toward the lamp in the corner.

If only she'd just shut the fuck up. He lifted the Silencer and her crying calmed.

"Please, Mister. Please don't kill me." She began to rock back and forth, curling her legs up so that her knees hit her chest. "Please, I'm only -"

"Shut the fuck up kid, I ain't gonna' kill ya'," Logan's voice was calm. He tossed the card aside and held out a gloved hand to the crying girl. She was obviously smart enough not to argue and she lifted her hand and held on to his.

"Get the fuck outta' here. If you squeal, you won't have to worry about me. Someone else will get to you before you can even blink." Pulling out a large load of cash from his back pocket, he handed it to the girl. "Your friend was smarter," he told her gruffly.

She simply nodded.

"Go." He turned his face away from hers and looked down at the dead man. The girl's quick and gentle footsteps echoed off the carpet and down the hall. The Silencer in his hand itched. He should have just shot the damn kid but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He looked over his shoulder and ran his hands through his tousled hair. If she really was as smart as she looked and knew what was best for her, she would leave.

He fired two more shots in the back of Halson's head. The body flinched from the reaction of the hits and Logan sat the gun down next to his head. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and flipped it open. Pressing one button, he placed it to his ear and waited for them to pick up.

"It's done," he stated and hung up the phone. Snapping it shut, he gave Halson one last nod and made his exit.

***


Stepping off his motorcycle and down the long cemented path to a large brick mansion, Logan looked around to make sure no one was around. He was pretty protected from the authorities on this property.

But it wasn't the police he was worried about.

Long legs landed in front of him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Did you do it?" she asked him, narrowing her beautiful blue eyes at him and placing a hand on what she apparently thought were hips.

"Are you payin' me?" He asked her and tilted his head to the right, waiting for her answer.

She flipped her jet black hair over her shoulder and licked those candy apple red lips. "What's your price?" She sauntered towards him and he turned his head away from hers. "Because you know that what I have is better than all the money in the world." Her arm snaked over his shoulder and he grabbed it roughly. She swung her long leg up and Logan caught that with his hand. A spiked four-inch heel was merely a heartbeat from his right eye.

"You know exactly how I like it," she teased, and he shoved her away from him.

Landing on her feet gracefully, she laughed a sultry, dangerous laugh that only irritated him.

"Why are you fucking with me?" He frowned and did not hide his obvious frustration. "Why aren't you and Creed off mating in the bushes or something?"

"Creed is on the hunt," she answered in a silky voice. "Besides, I want you tonight."

"Too bad," Logan replied. He pulled out the cigar he'd been smoking in Halson's hotel room and lit it once more. "Look, kid, I don't have all night so if you -"

"Ah, Logan!"

If she was flirting with Logan, she wasn't much longer. Her entire demeanor changed and she straightened her back and was nearly dancing her way up to the man standing on the top step of his ridiculously large home.

"Just like the postman!" He said proudly. "Rain, sleet, or snow ... Logan gets the job done." He began clapping and Logan wanted to tell him looked like an idiot, but he kept his mouth shut. No one argued with the boss. Logan learned that the day he'd seen him shoot that toad-looking Mortimer son of a bitch in the knee.

Still clapping, the boss motioned for the woman at his side to go inside the home. Finally done with his clapping, he walked down the steps toward Logan. In a crisp, tailored black pinstripe suit, he held out a manicured hand for Logan to shake. In return, Logan held out his own, rough and callous-worn, and they shook firmly.

"Everything taken care of then?" he asked, the amusement in his voice quickly gone. Logan nodded.

"Raven."

She descended the steps slowly with a briefcase in her hand. He nodded his head and she passed the briefcase over to Logan. "It's all there -" her naturally sensual voice stated.

"I trust you," Logan cut her sentence short. She gave him bedroom eyes he had been unable to resist on more than one occasion, but tonight, he just wasn’t in the mood for any of this.

Without so much as a goodbye, Logan turned his back to them and made his own exit. He could hear the boss laughing behind him, but he did not bother to turn around. He had no desire to . They made him sick. The lot of them were disgusting.

He was no better. His steps became quicker and quicker until he was running away from them, his boots storming down the paved walkway.

Once out of their eyesight, he crouched down near the closest bush he could find and began to vomit.