Under the cover of night

Hannibal

I stood in the shadows at the edge of the alley, my eyes fixed on the building opposite. The night was almost eerily calm, and I appreciated the silence. It was the calm before the storm, the moment when every detail became crucial. I knew this position well: motionless, perfectly concealed, ready to act at the slightest alert. Each mission had become a well-oiled routine, a silent dance between me and my target. Tonight, it was another task to add to my tally.

The mission was clear: a new target, another life to erase. She was just a name on a file, a shadow to be eliminated. Nothing personal, nothing to do with me. It was just another transaction for the organization that paid me to do this job. No room for feelings, no room for humanity. It was a rule I had imposed on myself from the start: to be a ghost, with no past or future, just a task to accomplish.

I scanned the window of the apartment, the lights off. The woman, according to the information I had, lived alone. Her routine was simple: she left early to go to work and came home late, without exception. An ordinary life, without mysteries or secrets. I knew she didn't have cupboards full of corpses or hidden dramas. She was an easy target, a routine that would enrich my mission statement. Nothing exceptional.

I took a quick look at my watch: 11:30 p.m. It was time. In a few minutes, she would have gone home, like every night. There was nothing to fear, nothing to anticipate. My plan was already clear in my head: to enter the apartment discreetly, do what I had to do, and leave without leaving the slightest trace. The work of a professional.

As I was about to move forward, I suddenly froze. A faint, almost imperceptible sound rose in the distance. A step on the pavement. I narrowed my eyes, trying to identify the source of the noise. A passer-by, no doubt. I continued to watch the entrance, but this time I felt a slight tension. As if something unexpected was going to disrupt the smooth running of the mission.

I pricked up my ears. A noise, closer this time. But I didn't take my eyes off the building. My adrenaline rose slightly, but I forced myself to stay focused. Target observation was an integral part of my job, and I knew that anything could happen at that very moment. I focused on the approaching figure. A woman. She wasn't my target, of course. But something about her caught my attention. She walked calmly, unhurriedly, with a confident gait.

As she got closer, I noticed the light breeze ruffling her black hair. She was wearing a red scarf that seemed almost unreal under the dim streetlights, a stark contrast to the black night. I scanned her, taking her in without looking away, as I did with all my targets. Yet there was something about her that intrigued me. It wasn't her posture or her appearance, but a strange feeling, as if she had the ability to read my thoughts.

She stopped suddenly, right in front of me, without me expecting it. Our eyes met, and for a fraction of a second, I felt dizzy. I wasn't used to being seen, to being noticed. Tension rose in my body, but I remained perfectly still, concealed in the shadows. She stared at me for a moment, without seeming particularly frightened. Rather... curious.

“You look lost.” Her voice was calm, gentle, without the slightest trace of concern.

I stood frozen. I hadn't planned on this encounter, not planned on talking to my target before even neutralizing her. It was a strange moment, almost surreal. I knew it wasn't the time to give in to surprise, but something in the air bothered me. I didn't answer immediately, seeking to assess the situation. Observe, remain discreet, always. But this woman, this stranger standing in front of me, defied all the rules I had imposed on myself.

I looked at her for a moment. She didn't look threatening. She didn't seem to know who I was, or what I was doing in the shadow of the alleyway. A smile appeared on her face, a gentle, almost benevolent smile. It was as if she were not a stranger, but rather someone I had met a long time ago.

“No,” I finally replied, in a voice that was more hoarse than I would have liked. ‘I just stopped for a moment.’ It was an answer that meant nothing. But it was enough to divert attention, or at least to mask my true intention.

She raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on her lips. “And you stopped here, in this alleyway? It's a bit... lonely, isn't it?”

I swallowed, feeling a slight discomfort rising up inside me. It wasn't normal. This kind of situation never happened to me. I wasn't supposed to be bothered by a simple conversation, let alone by a stranger. Yet I felt something. Perhaps uneasiness, or an emotion I hadn't felt for a long time: curiosity. For the first time in many years, I felt unsettled.

She was waiting for a response, her eyes still fixed on me, unafraid, almost intrigued. She didn't see me as a threat, but as a mystery to be solved. She took a few steps back, her gaze still fixed on me.

“I guess I'll leave you to your... solitude,” she said with a smile. ”But you know, sometimes you have to know where to look to find yourself.”

I remained silent, watching her walk away. I hadn't moved, hadn't reacted. I didn't even know why I hadn't found a way to avoid her, why I had let the encounter unfold in that way. She disappeared into the street, and I found myself alone again, immersed in the shadows.

I took a few moments to regain my composure. I had to concentrate on the mission. It was just a setback, a strange moment. Nothing more. However, I wondered if everything would go as planned that night.