A walk through the back alleys of Las Vegas. I had just left KL's fancy Mafia party, and I had some business to attend to. There was a store owner by the name of Bobby Kilmer who owed a friend of mine some money. My friend was a bookie, and Kilmer was in a 30k debt with him. He fled New York when he figured out I was chasing him down. I had chased him to Las Vegas, and chose the party as a nice alibi with some respected names in case things went wrong. I had figured out that he was staying in an apartment on this block. I walked up and down looking for any clues as to which apartment was his.

I hung around outside for about an hour asking some questions. Eventually I find a junkie who told me where Kilmer was shacked up for a measly fuckin' $50. Only if that punk knew that Kilmer probably wasn't making it out alive. I had learned that he was in apartment 4C, and that he was staying with a woman named Jane Fisk. 

I walked up the stairs to the house and found the door. I shimmied the doorknob, and found that it was unlocked. I creeped through the door, and quietly observed my surroundings. The apartment wasn't all too big. It had a kitchen, a living room, a small balcony, and from my point of view it seemed only one room. I hugged the wall with my revolver ready, I edged my way around the corner, and looked into the room. He was laying on the bed asleep.

"This is gonna be easier than I thought" I said to myself. I tip-toed into the room and loomed over his passed out body. As I got closer I saw a needle sticking out of his arm. "Shit, this guy is not only addicted to gambling, but also heroin. With the amount of debt he's in with the bookies, I'm sure his drug dealers aren't too happy." Right as that thought passed my mind I felt a gun pushed into my spine.

"Who the hell are you!"

It was a mans voice, but I didn't recognize it. I tried to think of what to do. I had a gun, but the way this scene was set up, if I tried anything I'd be dead.

"Look I'm not looking for any trouble. This guy owes me some money, and I was coming to see if he'd pay up."

I took a deep breath. I felt the gun start to back away from my back. I heard the man take a step back.

"So I'm not the only one he owes money to? Typical. God damn junkies, too fucked up 24/7 to know how to deal with their money."

I slowly spun around, holstering my weapon after I saw that he had done the same. The man was about two inches taller than me and possibly 5 or 6 years older, I'd place him at about his mid 40s. I motioned to talk to him in the hallway, just in case Kilmer was to come to.

"Look. I'm guessing your a drug dealer, so you probably don't kill often. This is your city, and your client. Do you really want his blood on your hands? Whether or not he owes you money, if he lives it's bad business and if you kill him it's even worse. I don't have any money trails leading to this punk, so let me off him and be on my way. I'll be out of Vegas by nine tomorrow anyway."

The man looked to be going over some things in his head. Eventually he made a decision.

"Alright he's all yours. Just make sure he knows why he knows he's a piece of shit before he dies."

I tip my hat to the man as he leaves the house. I walk back to the bed, and reach for the body. I put two fingers on his throat to make sure he's alive and notice something I didn't see due to a shadow earlier. There's vomit running down the side of his face and it's all over the bed. I roll him on his back and slap his face in an attempt to wake him up.

"Fuck! He already fuckin' over-dosed."

I get up realizing that I did all this for nothing. I needed this kill to please some sick, twisted, deranged urge inside of me. I roll him back over how I found him, and walk to the door. "Looks like the blood is on the drug dealers hands."  I say to myself as I walk away.

"At least the bastard's dead..."