*A Necessary Evil

Intro: I had no idea what to write so I went looking for writing prompts. This one jumped out at me: "Only two weeks into the New Year had passed and Tim had already broken his first resolution: Don't kill anyone." I hope you enjoy the story.

Only two weeks into the New Year had passed and Tim had already broken his first resolution: Don't kill anyone. He hadn't meant for it to happen. The situation, timing, and victim all matched up like fate. All it took was for Tim to pull the trigger.

He kicked at a stray pebble on the sidewalk, his hands jammed into his pockets. There would be a news article about it. His name and picture would be prominently displayed next to the victim's name. It wouldn't be the first page but it would be big.

A car honked at him when he crossed the street without looking. He waved an apology and kept going. He would have to tell Pat, there was no getting around it. And he would be pissed. It was because of Pat he even bothered making the resolution. He'd put real effort into keeping it too.

His phone rang. Pat.

"Crap," he flipped it open and smiled. "Hello, Patrick."

"You did it, didn't you?"

"Oh ye of little faith. I made a promise."

"Tim."

He rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Yes, alright. I killed someone."

"Who?"

He didn't answer and instead ducked into a small alcove.

"Which one, Tim?"

Still he didn't answer.

"You killed Clint. I can't believe this. At least you could have picked someone else. Like Bernice. I wouldn't have minded if you killed her. It could have been epic."

"But everything was so perfect. It would have been a sin not to finish him off."

"Tim,"

"Yes?"

"I hate you. I'll be right over to take care of it."

"Thanks, Pat."

Tim picked up his pace and headed back to his small apartment. Pat waited at the door, the collar of his trench coat pulled up.

"That was fast," Tim commented as he pulled out his key and opened the door.

"Just let me see the damage."

Tim pointed to the corner of the room where his desk stood. As Pat hurried over, Tim slouched down on the couch. He heard Pat rustling and finally there was a sigh.
"It really was necessary."

"Told you," Tim said, his voice tired. "I really didn't want to kill him."

"But now we're in a pickle. How are you suppose to write three more books with Detective Clint who has now been shot three times through the heart."

"I'll figure something out," Tim replied, "I always do."

"I know. Just this time, please try to keep your main character around longer than two books. You're making my job as your agent a nightmare."

"I can't promise anything."

"Obviously."