Jeffrey Dean Morgan Imagines || JDM's One Shots || En

The Murder | Joe X Reader

You open your eyes, the rain falls cold on your skin, the blood flows warm through your fingers falling on the bare concrete floor and spreading out into a dark pool. It's over. He is done. You look at his eyes one last time and you can see that the glow that first lit them up is now gone.

You're the last thing that, unfortunately, he had the misfortune to see.

Your work is finished; you have to leave before anyone sees you and erase your tracks. You take the bloody knife with which you stole the life and put it in the holster. You get up and run to the door you came in a while ago but it does not open.

Shit. This doesn't work... now I have to find another way out.

You feel noises over the door and clearly understand that they are coming for you. Judging by the noise are at least 5. You can't beat them all together and then the only thing you should do is run away. Quickly.

You turn around and after having a quick glance at the roofs of the surrounding buildings, individuals that may be the best way. You shoot like a gazelle and jump on the roof near when the door opens violently, regurgitating a team of well-armed men. You do not have time to count them because they start to shoot at you and, with your heart in your throat, try to dodge the bullets while you run. Jump a duct, dodge a chimney, slide under a grill and start running again knowing that you can not stand it any longer and you have to find a place to hide. Roofs have always been a perfect place to kill someone but never to escape.

Damn it, I can not even sow them.

If you keep running around in the open they will never lose sight of you, so you decide to jump on a fire ladder and go down towards a rotten alley. You cling to a railing and then you let yourself fall landing crouched and then resume running. You have gained a few meters but nothing that can stop a bullet. A rain of blows hits you from above but you can dodge it by throwing yourself over the corner of the building.

Surely they will think they've hit you and you'll keep running in the alleyways and then mingling with the crowd, but they're wrong. You go around the building and hide yourself near a dumpster. You wait for them to go down in the alley too and when they arrive, take the opportunity to pass behind and run to the building next door. Run to a wall, place your foot against the bricks and give yourself the push to reach a ledge, hoist yourself over it and jump to the front balcony. The wet iron makes you miss the grip with one hand and you  slams loudly against the railing. With difficulty, you can hang up and lift yourself up.

You look around to try to figure out which is the fastest way to get back on the roofs and notice a ladder anchored to the wall that can be useful. Once you have reached it, hook your hands firmly to the pegs and start climbing quickly.

Once you reach the roof, notice a door open some buildings further on and decide to reach it. You start running and as soon as you jump on the other roof, a bullet whistles near your ear.

Fuck! How did they find me? I thought I had sown them!

You turn around while you run away but you can not see anyone.

What is a sniper? No, he wouldn't have made a mistake...

After quickly overtaking a bird cage you hide behind a pile of large iron pipes. Your breathing is labored and you feel the cold air burning in your throat, your tongue dry and your sweaty skin becoming more and more sticky. You move your wet hair from your eyes and get dirty to see if anyone is coming. You see a tall man running towards you but you still do not know if he saw you or not.

You make yourself small and hope that you pass beyond without noticing but your hopes fade when you see his shoes dangerously close to you.

Instinctively you bring your hands to your mouth and hold your breath: it seems that your heart has stopped beating to avoid making noise and that the eyelids remain motionless to prevent you from losing sight of him even for a moment. In your veins run more fear that blood: you had never  done wrong in your work and in your case wrong means to play with life.

You keep staring at those feet until they proceed from disappearing from your sight.

As slowly as you can, get out of the hiding place and go in the direction he went to see where he is, but you do not see him. You understand that something is wrong but before you can turn you get hit in the head: bang your head against the hard bricks and fall to the ground.

The sight begins to spin whirlingly and your ears whistle violently, disorienting you.

In front of you, you see a man, and without thinking twice, throw a kick to his leg and drop him to the ground. You get up again hoping that in the meantime your condition will improve but you are forced to make  it without clear view for now.

You lean against the wall to support yourself and you see his form rise again: you have to face him but you're bad. Your only chance is the knife with which you killed your target first, but in the holster it's gone.

Shake your head hoping to regain your sight but the only thing you see is an arm that stretches towards you and, among the whistles, you hear the noise that you would recognize everywhere: he removed the safety and is about to shoot you. With a lightning gesture, you hit his arm and drop his gun, and you turns on him. You both drop on the ground and  you punch him in the face creating a wound in your hand; prepare the other sting but he precedes you by hitting you in turn and making you fall next to him. Feel clearly the taste of your blood in your mouth but you do not give up and you hardly get up. You wipe your mouth with a dry gesture and notice that now your sight is less clouded: luck finally turns in your favor.

Wait for him to get up too, and when his figure stands out in front of you, you kick him at the ribs, then punch him in the stomach and one in the breastbone. You watch him bend and fall in front of you. Bend and take the spare knife that you always keep in your boots. Then you approach him and you sit on him by blocking his arms and legs. You can clearly feel that his muscles no longer have the strength to fight you and you watch him as helplessly waiting for his destiny now clear.

Your vision is now perfect, perhaps thanks to the adrenaline, and allows you to see it clearly. He has black hair, a grizzled beard, green shaded eyes and tanned skin. Stay for a moment staring at him while holding the knife in your hand and distracts you only the reflection of the light reflected on the blade.

You have to kill him. He saw you and you can not afford it, so the only thing to do is get him out. But you're holding back.

<What's up? Are you thinking twice?> asks you arrogant looking in your eyes.

You observe him in silence and notice that in his eyes there is no fear but resignation.

<No, I was just looking at the eyes of a dying man... again> you answer cold.

<So what are you waiting for, kill me> tells you as if it was an order.

But you do not take orders from him and ignore him by continuing to stay still. You are fought and it never happened: you know you have to kill him but you can not.

You use your self-control and years of hard training to quench your emotions, close your eyes and raise the knife ready to launch the decisive blow.

<If you don't do it, something esle will> spits embittered and angry.

The quick descent of the blade stops abruptly and you open your eyes wide as if you had just received the lighting.

Set his empty eyes in which he burns the desire to make it over and you let the knife fall to the ground. In silence you get up and leave him there, alive. You turn to look at him one last time knowing that you just made him the worst wrong that you could do and you walk away.

* Joe has a terminal cancer and would have died shortly after.