Assassins

Cover Assassins
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Genres: Fiction
Perhaps not so surprising—Nitin had mentioned no one ever came here.
Nonetheless, hand on pistol and senses on red alert, he went through the gates and into the house; the horror movie set feel was now much stronger. Pushing it aside, he went down to the basement.
Nitin lay where he had fallen.
Leon was unable to stop himself from looking at the body. It suddenly struck him that never once, in all these years, had he ever had to revisit one of his victims. Till now, barring catching glimpses of
... them on the television, life had never brought him face-to-face with those he had sent to their deaths.
Strangely, death did not seem to have deflated Nitin. Barring his face, which was still twisted in a grimace with a faint trickle of saliva down one side of his half-open mouth, he could well have been asleep. Possibly because of the cold, he had not yet started to smell. Not badly, anyway.
Just a faint whiff of … What? What does death smell like?
Leon realized he was about to take a deep sniff.
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