Prompt Lost – something about a cursed person who can kill anyone simply by explaining how they were cursed and, using this ability, they become an assassin.
Dwight from Pensicola
“Madragoria’s Famed Menagerie”
An inviting sign, in all gold letters, called people off the street and into what Marylin Madragoria often called “the greatest pet store since the Garden of Eden.”
Inside, animals of all shapes and sizes squawked, squeaked, roared, and hissed. Marylin, the owner of the the Menagerie, also loved to say “if Madrogoria’s did not contain the animal you were looking for, then the animal you were looking for had gone extinct.”
Marylin’s list of Madragoria sayings extended beyond even her own memory. She was an incredible salesperson, an astute entrepreneur and a famed charmer.
She had powerful friends and had made powerful enemies.
A man walked into Madragoria’s Menagerie with an aura of cool, level headed violence. He walked past the kittens and puppies near the front entrance and into the store proper. Even he, a coldhearted killer and professional assassin, could hardly contain his excitement.
Madragoria’s stretched farther and higher than it appeared to from the street. Within, the fabulous shop expanded upwards three stories, the whole store linked together three dimensionally with a system of slatted catwalks and spiral stairs. Along all the catwalks were cages and tanks wherein the most beautiful animals resided happily. Moreover, the distance from the entrance to the back wall was nearly 600 meters.
On the first floor, an effervescent blue glow emanated from the well lit waters of the sea creatures. Reptiles ruled the second floor, and high up on the third were the mammals – the exotic apes and monkeys and even certain illicit breeds of tree loving wild cats.
Throughout the store, swooshing through the great warehouse expanses of empty space, were the many and various birds. Toucans and cockatiels, an entire mobile flock of parakeets, over two dozen parrots, ravens and crows, three owls, two hawks, and one eagle. All lit by four giant chandeliers exuding perfect golden light.
Looking up from the entryway, through the bright and happy place, through the slats of the catwalks, afforded visitors an astounding view of all life’s wonders. In Madragoria’s, anything felt within the realm of the possible.
It took a moment for the assassin to shake the amazing effect the place had on him – transporting him back to a long lost childhood – almost causing him to doubt the mission he’d been handsomely paid to carry out.
With a small breath, the Assassin centered himself and looked through the menagerie for Marylin. He found her at the far end of the store, on the third floor, helping a customer and he made his way over there, past the first rows of salt water fish and methodically up the spiral staircases.
On the catwalk the assassin walked to within ten feet of Marylin and paused, pretending to look at a great ape. The ape vocalized at him mindlessly. Marylin took no notice of the assassin, eager to help the young lady who had approached her with a question.
The assassin’s orders were clear – a clean kill, no witnesses. He looked around as best he could and saw no other customers. He need only wait for the random woman to leave and the deed could be done. Gently, subtly, the assassin reached into his jacket holster and removed his gun to his pocket, cocking the hammer back, and waiting.
By sheer chance, as unbeknownst to the assassin as the assassin was to Marylin, the assassin himself had made a powerful enemy, albeit a different powerful enemy than Marylin Madragoria.
Like Marylin’s enemy, the assassin’s enemy hired a killer to assassinate the assassin. Even as the first assassin waited, small caliber gun in his pocket, ready to kill in a split second, the assassin’s bane hid in plane sight, waiting to strike the killing blow when the moment was just right.
Beside the assassin, the ape continued to mumble blabbering nonsense, seeming to speak to the assassin directly, almost as if the ape had a message to convey.
The assassin, up close to one of the ‘amazing’ animals which had so taken him, now felt only disgust. The beast was an imbecile and smelled of filth. Leaning in to the bars, the assassin spoke to the creature, even as it continued to jabber uselessly.
“God you’re stupid.”
Right then a small green parrot landed on a cage behind the assassin and said, clear as day, with that slight sing song lilt a parrot sometimes has, “My real name is Dwight, I’m from Pensicola, and I was trapped in this parrot’s body by a gypsy’s curse and I can only be set free by the kiss of the one who loves me. Squaaaaaa!”
Before he could even turn around, the assassin was dead, his heart exploded in his chest. Marylin saw the man fall, but missed the lone green parrot flying away, blending into the chaos, and escaping through a broken window.
“Mr. Crackers”, aka Dwight from Pensicola, strikes again.
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