Violins by Pat Keck
I despise spiders. I really get choked up when I see one. I guess I have arachnophobia. I'm not clinically diagnosed or anything, but I'm pretty sure I got it. One time, in third grade, I was sitting on the roof of a wooden fort at the playground at school. I was probably 15 ft. above the ground in that fort. A Daddy Long Legs crawled across my shoulder and I decided the best way to kill it was to tumble off the fort in hysteria and flatten it into the ground. I broke my shoulder.
My name is Wix. I'm 37, and I'm a professional killer. That's all I would like to tell you right now, people are always watching you know. You get that kind of thing in this business. You always got to watch your back. The business has evolved quite a bit since I stepped in 11 years ago. You're not just using the old fashioned sniper-rifle-on-top-of-the-roof-type-thing anymore. In fact, my latest job is quite high tech.
It was a Tuesday when they called. I had just flushed down all the Bourbon I had drunk the night before. I puked up pure alcohol because I hadn't a single morsel of food in my stomach. I wondered if I drank some of the vomit if I could get drunk again. I hadn't had a job for a while, so I was scrounging for money.
Then the phone rang. It was quite a surprising noise. I had almost forgotten what it sounded like. I wiped myself off and anxiously walked over to the beckoning noise.
"Yesssss. . ." I said.
"Wix. Is this Wix? I need to talk to Mr. Wix. I need to know if Mr. Wix is interested in a job. Is this Mr. Wix?" the voice said.
"Yes, yes this is Wix."
"Good. Good Mr. Wix. I need nothing but the best for this Wix. Are you interested, Mr. Wix? Are you interested in working again, Mr. Wix?" the voice said.
"I'm interested."
"Wonderful Mr. Wix! I knew I could count on you Wix! This job is big Wix. You could quit the business after this one, Mr. Wix. Quit the business!"
"Nobody quits the business. The business takes care of you. So when do I get the info, the dossier."
"Well Mr. Wix, there should be transportation waiting for you outside your apartment. Look out the window Mr. Wix. Go outside and get into the car."
Sure enough there was a car outside on the street. A blue Pontiac. I didn't like the look of this. You usually don't do business this way. " I don't do business this way, just send me a dossier. I'll do the rest."
"This is how the job goes Mr. Wix. This job is very important Mr. Wix. Either you get in that car, Mr. Wix, or you can forget I ever called. You will forget about this job Wix and you will never have an opportunity like this again. You are old news Wix. You know this, I know this. But for this kind of job we need an experienced man. This job is special Mr. Wix."
I had to take it. I had no money, and I was old news. Even if these men were shady, I had to take the chance. I had to make an effort to get out of the business, even though I knew it was unrealistic.
"All right I'll get in the car. I'll get in the car."
"Excellent Mr. Wix. Excellent."
We arrived at our destination in about a half an hour. I think I still had a hangover. I got out of the car and saw we were out in the country and standing before what looked like a regular farmhouse. There were cows, chickens, even pigs. I stepped inside and found out it was a different story. It looked like a laboratory, probably government affiliated.
"Well Mr. Wix, welcome. I was the man you talked too over the phone. Remember, Mr. Wix?" I knew it was the same guy. They both had the same wormy voice. He was exactly how I pictured him, frail and balding.
"Yeah I remember. What kind of operation you got going down here anywhere? Looks like you guys are pretty high up the ladder."
"You need not worry about that Mr. Wix. Just follow me this way Mr. Wix."
The whole place was pretty bland. Everything soaked in eggshell white. I'd seen this sort of arrangement plenty. We walked down a long corridor and into a room at the end of the hall. It was dark inside the room and there were two more lab-coats sitting in front of some sort of control board, staring through a window into another room. In the other room sat a Golden Retriever, licking itself gratuitously.
"Observe Mr. Wix." said the wormy man.
I looked inside and saw a tiny door slide open. And do you know what crawled out of that tiny door? Yes, a spider crawled out that tiny door. The dog took no notice to it and continued licking itself. The spider edged forward, almost unnaturally. Suddenly something extended from its back. It looked like a tiny gatling gun. I laughed out loud.
The lab-coats didn't budge, just kept staring through the glass. Then a tiny projectile shot from the back of the spider, looked like a tiny dart. It stuck into Goldie's neck, and the mutt let out a yelp. The dog moped around for about three minutes, then fell over, its legs sticking straight into the air. It began convulsing.
When Goldie quit convulsing the spider edged closer and crawled onto the dogs body and mounted itself on top of a vein. Then a stream of blood began to pour down from beneath the spider and onto the floor. The spider crawled down from the dog and slowly edged back through the tiny door.
"It's a robot Mr. Wix. Modeled after the Chilean Recluse spider. Quite a nasty one. The spiders head mounted sensors include two Polaroid sonar transducers, a Banner near infrared proximity sensor, an AM sensors' microwave motion detector, and a video surveillance camera.
The output of the CCD camera is broadcast to the operator over an analog RF link and simultaneously fed to an onboard video motion detector that provides data allowing the head pan-axis controller to automatically track a moving target. Elevation information from the motion detector will be similarly fed to the pan-and-tilt controller for the six-barrel pneumatically fired dart gun. The darts are filled with super-concentrated venom from the Chilean Recluse. Once the victim is injected with the venom, abnormalities develop in the clotting ability of the blood. The spider then makes a small incision over a vein. Which leads the victim to bleed to death. That dog will be dead within an hour," said the wormy man.
"What do you need me for? Just let you lab-coats here go knock off the bastard,"I said.
"We can't be involved in this Mr. Wix. We are not killers Mr. Wix, you are. It should come more natural to you. You have had the experience Mr. Wix."
"You just killed that dog didn't you?"
"Mr. Wix, are you going to comply or not? Well Mr. Wix? Mr. Wix?"
"Why a spider? Why this way?"
"The death has to look like a natural occurrence. Although there is a slim chance of such a occurrence, there is still a chance. We chose a spider because of its size and capability."
It took me about four days to figure out how to use that machine properly. I had to manipulate three different joysticks. One for drive and steering, another for camera pan and tilt, and a third for weapons control. I really hated using this thing. First of all it scared the bejeezus out of me. I couldn't touch it. I didn't even want to look at it. It disgusted me. It was pretty large too, more than 25 millimeters long, amazing how they could fit so much technology into 25 millimeters.
Finally I received a dossier. It was unexpected. It was wrong. It was a kid. A 12-year-old kid, named Lars. A goddamn kid. What were these people thinking? I have killed, I have murdered many people who deserved to die (in my opinion). But he was 12 years old, hadn't even lived half of his life, and these people wanted to erase him. Turns out he is a hacker, hacked into something he wasn't supposed to hack into. Saw something he wasn't supposed to see. And now I have to kill him. I knew I couldn't back out, or they would slit my throat just as quickly. But wouldn't that be better? Me dead and not the kid. I deserved to be in the depths of hell with the rest of my victims. But what about the money? Oh the money. I would be set, just fly to an island and drown myself in a bottle every day.
"Mr. Wix? Tomorrow is the day Mr. Wix. Are you ready Mr. Wix? Have you read the dossier Mr. Wix?" said the wormy man, with his wormy voice.
"I can't believe you people. Sucking me in like this. I would never have agreed. . ."
"You understand Mr. Wix, there was no other way. We knew you were desperate, we also knew you had morals, standards. Something you don't find in this business. Something that shouldn't be in this business at all. Now Mr. Wix, are you in, or are you out?"
"I'm in." Bastard.
This was how it was to go. I would be stationed in a van exactly 153 ft. away from the house where the victim resides. An agent will carry the Chilean recluse to an alley across the street and release the spider in the alley. From then on I am in control. I am to position the spider on the west side of the house. On the west side of the house is a water spout. I am to climb up the water spout and place the spider on the roof. From there I will move the spider to a chimney which leads down into the "kitchen" and onto an oven. I then climb down from the oven and continue heading west into the "living room." From the "living room" I am to locate the "stairs." I then move up the "stairs" to the second floor of the house. When I arrive on the second floor, I am to move east to the end of the hall, where Lars room resides. Lars usually leaves his door open 12 to 15 inches, to let the hall-light in. If this is not in effect, then I will maneuver underneath the door into the room. I then position the spider on top of a 4 ft. high red table in the west side of the room. I release the gatling gun, and fire until I receive a direct hit into the neck. Then the spider will move to the child's bed and make an incision over the child's wrist, slitting a vein. According to the child's sleeping patterns, he should be in R.E.M. sleep between the hours of 12:45 a.m. and 4:04 a.m.. We will make our move at 1:15 a.m.. There is also a cat named "Whiskers," I am to avoid him.
I sit in a van, 153 ft. away from Lar's house, and it is exactly 1:14 a.m.. I am alone, but the lab-coats are watching, making sure I get the job done. In front of me are four different monitors and three control panels. I turn on the power and find all systems are working correctly. The surveillance camera is picking up pure darkness because the spider is in a box at the moment. The clock reads 1:15 a.m., and then there is a light.
This spider is damn fast. I was across the street and at the west side of the house in less than two minutes. I located the spout and began to climb inside. I got about 6 ft. up the spout when I see something that really scares me. Another spider, a real spider. A real spider is pretty scary that close up. It happens that this spider has taken quite a liking to me. It crawls onto my back and precedes to have intercourse, with what I don't know. All I knew was that I had to get rid of it.
I tried to wriggle it off, but this thing was apparently quite horny and not letting go. I then decided to release the gun. The spider lunged forward right over the barrel of the gun. I released a dart into its chest, blowing it apart. Now the spider was taken care of, but I had its entrails all over the surveillance camera.
I now only had five darts with which to infect the boy. I now moved the spider down into the chimney. There seemed to be steam coming up the chimney. I got to the opening at the bottom of the chimney and saw before me a giant pot of steaming chili. I could go for a bowl of chili.
"Crap. Crap on me. Why didn't anybody see this?" I began to sweat. You sweat a lot in this business.
Oh yeah, how was I going to get around this? I would have to drop down and hope to grab onto a side of the pot. I was sweating profusely at this point. I'm sure the spider was too.
I positioned myself, and free fall. I grabbed onto the side! Yes! Yes! I made it. No, no, one of my legs was stuck in a bean. I tried to maneuver out but the bean was slippery and that one leg kept slipping up. I fell over the side of the pot. The monitors showed static.
I had barely made it into the house and believed I had failed. I thought someone was going to come into the van and pop a bullet through my head. Then the phrase "BACKUP POWER" flashed on the monitors, and the monitors came back on.
"Backup power! Thank you Backup power!"
"Mr. Wix! Mr. Wix!" said a wormy voice that came from the walkie-talkie inside my ear.
"Mr. Wix that was a very risky maneuver! Very risky! No more close calls Mr. Wix! No more taking chances!"
"No one told me about a pot of chili! I made a snap-judgement, what was I supposed to do?" There was no response, I removed the bean and proceeded as planned.
I moved into the living room. This was a nice place. Big-screen TV, probably a 62 inches. Two leather couches. I always liked leather, I mean, who doesn't? A lazy boy, mahogany coffee table, and a fish tank. I have a fish tank at my apartment. There was this one fish that kept eating all the other fish. I probably had six different kinds of fish in there, and he ate every last one. So I scooped him out and set him on the dinner table. I watched it flip and flop around until it couldn't flip and flop around anymore.
I located the stairs and moved northward. At the top of the stairs I saw the hall-light was on, and that Lar's door was open. Finally something went right.
I realized I hadn't seen Whiskers yet. And then something stirred from inside the darkness, and I saw the giant beast rise and come into the light. Whiskers was quite the kitten.
Whiskers didn't know what to make of me. He just stood there and stared. I knew I couldn't waste another dart. I decided to stand my ground and wait for Whiskers to make his move. Then Whiskers lunged.
I lunged as well and grabbed onto Whiskers' stomach. I released a small razor from the stomach of the spider. At this point Whiskers was frantic, running all about the hallway trying to shake me. I slid the razor deep across the cat's belly, and quickly removed myself, landing perfectly on my eight legs.
As I stood at the edge of the stair, I saw a sliver of blood form across the kitten's belly.
"Me. . . Me. . . Me. . .Me-ROWWW!" wailed Whiskers as he tumbled down the stairs. He bounced up into the air and his intestines splurged out of his stomach. The intestines then took hold of the knob at the end of the handrail, and Whiskers hung there from his own entrails.
"That'll be something to wake up to."
I made my way into the room at the end of the hall.
I crawled up to the table where I was to fire the dart. And then I finally saw him. That little boy. A little boy I was going to erase. For what? He probably doesn't even know he did anything, he probably doesn't even know what he saw on that computer. And these dirty lab-coats don't even blink at the thought of murdering a child just to cover their asses.
He had red hair, freckles, looked like a purebred American. He had crusted mucus falling out of his nose and was wheezing a little bit.
I was stuck. I knew what had to be done. I released the gun.
Thooomp! A miss! I did make a direct hit into the plastic eye of a teddy bear though. I loaded another dart, only four left.
The sweat was really pouring now. I had never sweat like this before. Pure rivers of sweat flowing from my pours. I kept wiping my brow, but it wouldn't quit flowing.
Thooomp! Another miss! Another miss! Was I missing on purpose? What am I doing? I loaded another dart, only three left.
"Mr. Wix!" Thooomp! Another frickin' miss! That wormy voice startled me and I pressed the trigger. "Mr. Wix! Mr. Wix! What are you doing? Are you not a marksman? What are you doing, Wix? How many men have you killed Wix? Mr. Wix?!?"
I ignored him. Two darts left. I positioned the gun, and I pushed the trigger.
Hit. A direct hit. A direct hit in the neck. Lars winced, but didn't awaken. I saw the venom seep into his neck. I began to cry. No, I began to sob like a baby. But wait, Lars still had time! I hadn't made the incision! He could still live! I could save him! I had to.
"Mr. Wix? Follow through, Mr. Wix. Follow through with the job, Mr. Wix. Wix, can you hear me? Move, god dammit! Wix! Wix! Wiiiiiiiiiiixxxx!" The lab-coats watched the monitors back at the farmhouse. They saw the spider slowly edge over the table, and smash into the ground.
Lars awoke and felt a sting in his neck.
"Mommmm, . . ." he said. "Mom, there is something . . ."
KAAAAAABOOM! Was the sound Lars heard outside his bedroom window. He peered outside and saw that 153 ft. away from his house was a burning van.