Short story: It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you

First attempt at writing a story on steemit. It's kind of dark, and doesn't end on a hopeful note. Hope you enjoy.

Its not paranoia if they really are out to get you:

I should have listened to my master. She told me, "Jarth, you had better keep a low profile if you want to be happy as a saboteur, or your not going to enjoy your life." But nooo, I wanted to be rich and famous, I wanted people to get worried the moment they hear my name, I wanted girls, I wanted higher paying jobs. Now I'm hiding in a high tech bunker flinching at every sound that's not recognizable, barely able to sleep.

Lets explain how I got here. I Jarth adams (don't ask me why my parents named me something that is almost synonymous with narcissist) ended up in the job occupation of freelance saboteur, people like me are hired to do everything from flatten the tires on a car, to disrupting military movements, to damaging experiments into new things if that's what our client wants. Naturally, the more recognized you are for successful work the more people will hire you, for better paying and more challenging jobs. So naturally with my big dreams, I wanted to be the best, most wealthy, most hired, most recognized at my job.

So once I left my masters tutelage, and had worked my skill levels up to the best I could get them through pure training, I started spreading my name. It started fairly simple, popping tires, spiking water, moving papers to places they shouldn't be. But as the jobs started getting bigger, and my name started getting spread, people started hiring me for jobs other saboteurs had failed because of what I thought at the time was incompetence. So I started making lots of money, I could start showing of for girls, and my jobs were exciting.

That was where everything started going downhill. You see, I hadn't thought of the fact that because of how I was spreading my name, anyone with enough time or money could start figuring out what I had sabotaged up to that point. Because of how recognizable I was, the groups I had sabotaged started hunting me. It started fairly simple, you hear about this one guy you pissed off in another country hunting you and your not that worried. But when bounties are put up that are as high as your average small store owner would make in a year, then you start worrying. After all, lots of people are willing to try and take you down for enough money.

Soon enough, the girls I was trying to seduce would try to drug me, the jobs I was hired for would start to turn into traps, I had enough high profile people after me that no one was willing to try hiding me. As my escape routes were slowly but surely cut off, I became desperate and got into more than a few close calls trying to escape. Eventually that lead me here, my last fortress, the only thing standing between me and almost certain doom. But I don't have enough food to last in here forever. Eventually one of two things will happen, they will find a way in, or I will have to go out, either way this is the end of the road for me. I'm glad my master can't see me now. I would never wish for her to know that my last defenses turned into my prison.