That stupid Naughty List. One glance at it and his life had fallen apart. Sleep had become a fantasy. Singing was a chore.

Four Christmases passed before he realized what would bring him peace. Justice.

His brothers and sisters were overjoyed he had become his old self again. They thought he had gotten over the atrocities he'd seen on the list. The truth was that he had a purpose again. Cole thought back to that first nightmare after he saw the list. A shadowy figure approaching a young boy curled up sleep. The child's small hands hugging a doll that Cole himself had made.

Now those nightmares were dreams. They began the same as the nightmare, but now there was another shadowy figure. One emerging from the fireplace. A small matte green blade in his hand.

It took him twelve years to make that a reality. The boots were easy, Santa threw those away every year. The chimney dust was a problem. It took six years to get enough dust for the names on his list, and the list kept growing. The hard part was the reindeer. It took him years just to befriend them enough to find the one that would help him, Rudolph.

That one had a chip on his shoulder. Years of bullying, flying out just a couple times every ten years. He cared about the kids, but more than anything, he wanted freedom.

Then came the weapons. Santa would know if any of the elves made anything dangerous. Blades disguised as decorative parts, hilts as bicycle handles. He'd even managed to make enough parts for a small revolver, but not the bullets. That was no problem, the naughty list would tell him where to find them.

Christmas Eve came and went. Santa came home and they all gathered for dinner to celebrate another successful holiday. Cole ached to say goodbye. He wanted to tell them how much we would miss them. How he'd miss the way Bubbles would snort when she laughed. Jazzy's cookies. Cole snuck out before he started crying. He had to do this.

He walked through the snow to the valley where Rudolph was waiting. Their first stop would be to pick up the cover for his nose, masked as part of a baseball that Cole had made for a little girl in Arkansas. Cole ran the last few steps towards the valley, he could see a faint red glow from Rudolph's nose, and, no, it couldn't be. He had been so careful!

What was Santa doing here? He was supposed to be at dinner, giving his speech. Years, wasted.

"I know what you're doing". Cole gulped, he'd never heard Santa's voice so solemn. "It's a bad idea."

"I- I-" Cole's voice came out a squeak.

"It's disappointing". Cole began to shake. He wasn't afraid of the consequences, he just couldn't bear to stay home another night. Santa continued, "I thought you were smarter than this"

"Someone has to do something!" Cole found himself yelling, his voice had come back and stronger than it was stronger than it had ever been. "There are MONSTERS out there. I make toys for kids that cry themselves to sleep. Toys their parents steal and sell to buy drugs, parents that beat them and..."

"I know", Cole didn't know when Santa had started to hug him, but he was now crying into the big man's belly. "This isn't the way to do it" Santa was now kneeling, looking into his eyes. "You'll be through that list in a couple of months. And then what?"

"Then I-"

"Then, you'll come home and get another list". Cole tried to speak, but no words came out.

"You're not the first Cole my son. There aren't many of you, but enough. Go the South Pole. You'll find the others there."

The glass shattered as the figure stumbled through the window

"I'm here to kill you!" Announced the assassin, an elf girl, Edric couldn't tell her age. Elves were tricky, you see, barely aging through their long life.

"Can you wait until after I've finished my meal?" Edric said, looking down at his ham sandwich, "I've been starving all day."

"I-" the elf faltered, looking back at the man with a bemused expression, "Did you not hear me right, I am here to kill you, I am an assassin!"

"Well there's no need to do it now, unless you're on a tight schedule. I hear the best assassins have multiple hits a day." he then gestured to the kitchen. "Tea?" he asked.

"Are you insane you old man?" she asked.

"Well, I certainly hope not." Edric replied, "I'm only..." he thoughtfully gazed up at the ceiling, performing mental maths, "Twenty eight." he finally said, looking back over to the elf, who was now glaring back at him.

"Why, in the name of the forebearers, did you need to work out your own age?"

"I'm not the best with dates." Edric said, "But if I'm an old man to you, then you must be a very young assassin. How'd you get in the business?"

"Enough!" she exclaimed, brandishing a silver handled dagger, "I have been hired to murder you, can you please just come over here and let me stab you or something?"

"Who hired you?" Asked the man. "I bet it was Gerald, old man keeps thinking 'm spying on him. I'm just admiring my damn lawn, the one I own and keep."

She sighed. "Tedricas Vrone."

"Oh, oh." Edric said, it all clicking into place like some gigantic clockwork...clock. Edric was not a poetic man by any measure. "You're the assassin I hired to kill me."

"What." The look on the girl's face was priceless: confusion, worry, maybe even a little pity.

"I heard there was a new hired killer in this city, I wanted to test their mettle, see what they had in them. You did poorly."

"I did not-"

"You threw a brick into my window, crawled through, and then announced that you were here to kill me, loudly. At any point here I could've killed you." Edric shook his head. "How in the name of the Blessed did someone so loud and utterly unimaginative become a person who kills people for money."

"I-"

"Le me guess," Edric cut her off, "Orphan." he suggested.

She nodded.

"Shame how many there are of you these days. Oh well, good thing you have me to guide you in all this."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she just seemed confused and bewildered at that point; Edric didn't blame her, he had as well when he was her age.

"Now, I am offering the opportunity of a lifetime: I will teach you everything I know about the fine art of killing a man for gold. If you check the contract I sent you, it clearly states that the due date for the killing is in seven years. In that time, I will turn you into the best killer there ever was."

"And then...?"

"And then," Edric stood up from his table, sliding the chair back as he took the plate with him into the kitchen, the elf following close behind, "And then I will put you through the most dangerous day of your life. If you do what you did back there, I wont hesitate to shove that dagger through your own heart. But if you push yourself to the limits, and then even a little further..." he grinned, "Then I will be dead, and you will have fulfilled your first contract."

He then stretched out his hand, covered in tiny scars. "What do you say?"

The elf eyes him suspiciously for a moment, before hesitantly taking it. she then shoved the dagger into his side.

He keeled over, blood leaking from the wound like water from a tap. She turned, walking away.

It was then she saw Edric, completely fine and now sitting back at the table, with yet another sandwich. "Nice try." was all he said, before going back to eating his meal.

Grey grinned in that way he didn't when he wasn't working. Dave's question apparently raising his spirits.

"So while I didn't become a dentist. I technically became a doctor." Grey considered in a way that suggested even he didn't know how that really worked out. "But originally, per my previous story, yes, I trained to be an assassin."

"To kill the man whose... Skull is sitting on the bookshelf."

"I mean, somebody comes to your patch of middle earth, kills your parents, burns your village, and enslaves the few survivors." Grey casually admitted. "A bit cliche. But you'd probably be a little raw about it too."

Dave agrees with a simple balling of his fists. It was a cue that Grey himself had came to notice over the years. Perhaps it was a nervous tic? A way to keep the monster at bay when emotions are high?

"I'm sorry you had to live like that."

"Don't be." Grey assured. "I got my revenge. And my current therapist gets to put his kids through college."

"-Is the therapist an elf too?"

"No. But what he doesn't know won't kill him."

Grey had a rather wry sense of humor. Being around so long would do that to anybody. Technology may press things forward, but a lot of things barely change if at all. He continued drinking coffee absently as he went over some folders he'd brought along.

"So how did it start? The assassin thing?"

"Well, after I did the whole grieving-process thing. It turns out there are a lot of people who want a lot of other people to disappear."

"Heh." Dave paused. Now it was his turn to smile in a similar sense. He had his own habits in that regard. Maybe the fist balling wasn't restraint, but anticipation?

"Unlike you, I couldn't just lay waste to a small army by myself. So I fell in with any coven, brotherhood, or bandits willing to take me in."

He went over to the counter and pressed the button on the air pot and let the cup refill. "I learned whatever they could teach me. Sure my family were potent magic users. But you can only learn so much on short notice."

It was rather simple. Elves had better tendency and experience at blending in. At least in more humanity dense areas of the old world. He always figured himself to be a bit unusual. An elf willing to tackle the outside world. But without the excess narcissism that seemed to come with that background.

"Really quick, and I don't mean any offense." Dave asked. "What's the deal with elves and wanting to rule the entire world."

Grey sat back and ignored his story for a moment. "I think it's the living for thousands of years part? You can't be a shut-in and not go crazy. You spend 2000 years teaching yourself spells, you haven't seen the sun in half that. You'll go crazy. Get delusions of grandeur."

It was funny how catch all his statement proved to be. Many of the other elves Dave had been introduced too carried this feeling of royalty. That there was so much superiority on general principal. Amal turned one to stone at the last function. That changed the dynamic a lot more than expected.

"I have a friend who still is getting past that. He didn't leave his house between The Sack of Rome and the Industrial Revolution."

"How is he now?"

"I mailed him a smartphone for his birthday, told him they landed on the moon." Grey remembered. "He's taking it kind of hard."

"So, your hitman years."

He went over the finer details of being careless at first. He took any deal that came his way. It didn't matter that he hadn't left his adolescence. If anything, he believed it gave him an advantage. Everyone expects some arduous warrior to show up to claim their lives. Most still don't expect a teen who can't drive; let alone ride horseback.

"I wasn't successful entirely." Grey explained. "Some escaped. Some just beat me half to death."

And some asked if he wanted better work. Of course nothing is ever that easy. And so many of Grey's years were spent training in ways he himself wasn't even prepared for.

"And that's when I learned you should never insult a sun troll's mother. My jaw still clicks to this day."

"They hit really hard." Dave confirmed.

"Everybody keeps making fun of living under a bridge, until they have to fight someone that lives under a bridge."

Eventually between all the pitfalls and bonuses of his lifestyle, he eventually had a realization. Not a fresh one. Just one he learned long before everything else. It was more peaceful to prolong life instead of taking it.

"That's... actually a very nice sentiment." Dave respected. "After what happened earlier."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm fairly certain all my previous contract targets were assholes to begin with."

Grey however switched things up at this point.

"Enough about me. You fought one of the Sons of Hikan to a draw" He mused. "How does that work?"

Dave shrunk up a little bit in his jacket, not that it made him seem any smaller. "So I used to have... Anger issues. You know?"

r/Jamaican_Dynamite

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