For Love of Killing - Chapter 1

The club was dizzying, flooded with the dark silhouettes of people gyrating under the flashing lights. It was the perfect place to socialize without having to actually talk, the perfect place to break out a sweat, the perfect place to lose someone in the crowd.

The perfect place for murder.

A girl sat at a table in the corner, surveying the crowd with keen brown eyes barely visible beneath the curls of her thick dark hair. She slouched back in the cushioned chair, appearing slightly inebriated as she sipped from a tall glass. In truth, she was awake and alert, watching almost every inch of her surroundings from her peripheral vision. She had been there for over two hours, buying glass after glass of what looked like alcohol but was actually an apple cider. She could not afford to have her senses dulled while she waited.

She had been waiting a long time now. The man she was supposed to be meeting was late. She glanced once more at her watch, and could have sworn the second hand had not moved. Suppressing a sigh, she leant back further and turned her eyes to the door.

The man she was waiting for went by the name of Simon Baker, and even though she’d never met the guy, she’d heard enough about him to know what she was in for. Six of the seven days of the week, Baker was in the paper or the local magazine rack, once again accused of abusing his famous parents’ money and his reputation in order to fuel his thousand-dollar-a-week crack habit. It was because of this that Baker had been so easy to arrange a meeting with. Chances were, though, that he’d spent the day getting wasted and had forgotten all about the meeting.

A break in the crowd caught the girl’s attention, and then the club’s doors swung open to let in a group of people, all in their early twenties and dressed in their party clothes. Most were thin plastic girls, clad in mini dresses, but the girl ignored them and zeroed in on the sandy-haired man in the centre, his hand around a blonde’s thin waist.

Then the girl’s phone was in her hand and she was texting to a number she’d had for weeks.


Baker gave almost no indication that he’d received a message, only briefly patting his pocket, until he was well inside the club. The girl in the corner watched as Baker quietly excused himself from his friends, and moved over to the bar to check the phone. When he’d read the message, Baker scanned the club. He spotted the girl and made his way, virtually unnoticed, to the shadowy table in the corner.

The girl there nodded her acknowledgement, and gestured for Baker to sit. When they were at eye level, facing each other, she leant forwards.

“Evening, Mr Baker,” she whispered. “Rose Hill. Pleased to meet you. Having a good night?”

Baker smirked. “Cut out the small talk. Have you got the stuff?”

The girl called Rose had to work to keep a straight face. This was almost too easy. What an idiot. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small zip-lock packet of white powder. Baker was already slipping a wad of notes across the table.

“Strong stuff, this is,” Rose told him. “A teaspoon’ll give you a huge kick. Lasts a long time. You don’t want to be taking too much.” A small smile played across her lips, but Baker was too busy staring at the goods to notice.

“Have fun,” she said.

Baker looked up for a moment. “Wanna stay, honey? I got all the fun you need right here.”

Yeah, right, pervert, Rose thought. She stood up and edged out from behind the table. “Sorry, no. There’s somewhere I gotta be.”

Baker didn’t answer. He has already pulled a pair of microscope slides from the depths of his jacket and was spilling some of the powder onto one. Rose stopped a few tables away and turned to watch him. Baker raised the slide to his nose and inhaled sharply, hardly even glancing around to see if anyone was watching. He grimaced slightly as the stuff hit the tastebuds at the back of his throat, and his eyes suddenly widened as he realised that it wasn’t crack he’d just inhaled.

He grabbed at his throat, as though he could squeeze the powder back out. Remembering his friends somewhere in the club, he searched frantically for someone he knew, someone who would call an ambulance. He saw Rose, and when their eyes met, he tried to call out but choked on his words. He reached into his pocket, fumbling with his mobile and in his panic punching in the wrong number.

A few minutes later, he collapsed.

The ambulance arrived too late, and the police cars after that. The substance still lying spilt on the table was tested and identified as a type of strong rat poison. Nobody at the club had seen anyone with Baker; no one knew anything. Rose Hill was long gone.

For Love of Killing - Chapter 1


Forresters Beach, Australia

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Artist's Description

This is a short draft of chapter one of my newest story. It’s about an assassin. It’s my first work that doesn’t rely on supernatural themes, so I’m a bit rough to start off. Hope you enjoy anyway!

Artwork Comments

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