Murder in Buenos Aires – SMMGL 1

The man knew that this was his end. He was clear and composed, and observed John, who walked calmly through the room with his gun, touching the newspaper on the sideboard. “So this was it”, the man said. He sat naked in his bed. “I know that I did fucking shit in my life. I fucked around with too many people, too many Russians, mafia from China, Italy and Mexico….” John watched the man through the eye slits of his silicone mask and did not say a word. “Now you come here and are looking like fucking Antonio Banderas. I hate it. A fucking mixture between Antonio Banderas and Javier Bardem”, the man said. “This is definitely the least I wanted to experience – dying through the fucking hand of fucking Antonio Banderas”. The man laughed bitterly. It was not only a funny joke that John had chosen this mask that made him look like an Argentinian gaucho. Instead, in the beautiful city of Buenos Aires, this appearance was the most unobtrusive.
“Fucking shit – at least tell me who sent you. My latest friend from Italy? Or China? You are about the fucking age of my son. Who sends you?”
– “Stay calm – I don’t even know you or your billionaire friends from Italy. God sends me”, John replied.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
– “I will tell you.”
John took a seat on the bedside of the man. He felt like a father who tried to calm down his kid that does not want to sleep. In his right hand, he felt the coolness and weight of his gun and the black and long silencer on top of it.
At the end, you murder // You have a force that no one can understand // At the end you murder what you created // Beyond any human comprehension // I want to – and cannot – defend // You love and will murder me, at the end“, John murmured calmly and raised the gun.

 

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