Inside a crowded room but completely alone, watching them mingle like an alien species. Maybe they're not the aliens, maybe it's me, maybe I'm the one who's from Mars.

A young woman - short blonde hair, pretty brown eyes - bumps into me. It was on purpose. She's been eyeing me for half the night. I force a charming smile.

"Easy tiger, don't want to spill wine on that pretty dress." My voice is smooth and kind, not even close to how I sound when I'm working.

She laughs, head back and nose scrunched. She's cute, like a baby deer. "I'm sorry, I've got two left feet."

I raise a brow, only answering her after I've sipped my drink - water with an olive to pass for alcohol. I like to keep my reflexes quick. "Not from what I saw. You were like a ballerina on that dance floor."

"You're too kind," she places a hand on my upper arm, slides it down until she's got my wrist in her grip, "and much too handsome to be alone tonight.

Ah, there it is. I smile again, taking another sip. She watches my throat work down the water, lip trapped in her teeth. Tempting, yes, but not an option. It would be wrong, she wouldn't know what I was. What I do.

"I would love to spend the night with you love, but," Her big brown eyes ask me to not disappoint her, but I'm not a magnanimous man, "I can't."

She's pouting. Her wine glass is almost empty and her lips are stained dark red. It would be wrong in more than one way. I don't bed drunk girls.

"Why not, handsome?" Her grip tightens, bringing my hand closer to her body, my fingertips grazing her waist, "Do you think I'm trouble?"

I set my drink down, pressing my lips close to her ear. She leans in, a sigh leaving her lips. Can she hear the smile in my voice? Or does she just hear the low rasp of a haunted man.

"I'm the one who's trouble, love." I twist my wrist, easily breaking her hold, "You're far too sweet for a dangerous man like me."

She gasps, probably thinks it's a joke or an elaborate way to get into her knickers. I step back, turn on my heel, and walk away without a single glance back.

I take long strides to the loo, taking off my tie as I move. My target entered the bathroom three minutes ago, just before Doe Eyes caught me.

If he's not in here I'll have to waste another hour subtly tracking him again. That would be highly inefficient.

It smells like mint and puke in the loo, but it's quiet and dark. Empty expect for one man. Richard Ghee, mid fifties, bald, heavy-set, and one minute away from being dead.

He doesn't react to my presence, like a sheep who doesn't recognize the wolf. I jam the door, tying the handle to the bathroom stall lock.

Richard only acknowledges me when I slide off my blazer. He eyes the quick rolling of my sleeves, zipping up his trousers like I'll leap for his private parts.

"Woah, easy lad, I don't want to have to hurt you."

I don't smile, I don't glare. I'm ice cold. He seems to notice something isn't right, beady eyes shifting to the locked door. Sweat beads at his temple.

The sheep just caught a whiff of the wolf.

I'm swift, quiet, clean. No pain, no hassle. One man who caused so much pain is gone in seconds, and I've got half a million in my bank account. Easy.

A gun for hire. An assassin. A murderer - All just names for a job that makes my skin tight when a beautiful girl wants to know me. No one can ever know me, or they'll hate me.

This is why I'm a Martian, just wearing human skin. I slip out of the window, and glance up at the crisp night sky.

Mars is up there, maybe I wouldn't feel like an alien there. Maybe it would feel like I'm not a monster.

I hold onto that thought as I slip into the night, trying to forget about Doe Eyes and a life where Earth still feels like a home...