Blood and Backroads

Part 1: A is for Assassin

An assassin (noun) is a person who murders an important person for political or religious reasons.

~

"Shit," I groaned throwing the knife into the hologram. The light blue blocks scattered and broke apart like building blocks onto the white floor. The tingling luminescent shone and glimmered before the blocks melted into the floor. The holographic glitching and warping.

"We have run out of time Cynthia," A voice echoed back to me on the other side of the training centre. The empty and shallow call rang in my ears. The slight anger and tone of disgust echoed.

"You think I don't know that?" I threw the meaningless words back at him. I reached for another knife from out of my belt, rummaging in my pockets. Finally grasping onto it I lifted it and using the tip of the blade I flipped a strand of white hair out of my face. I threw the knife into the hologram. The blocks scattered over my feet.

The fog began clouding around both our worthless bodies. He looked back at me. His chocolate eyes were stained with pain and fear. The feeling etched into my cold skin.

The fog grew; simulating gas. With a scoff, I swung my leg over the metal bars. Poking my tongue out at him as I slithered through the metal bars and swung upside down, unclicking the door I was trapped behind. Idiots. I thought. I dropped onto the mat outside the door. I ran to him. The fog rising to our torsos. The red numbers on the clock flickered with every second lost. The red clock read 1 minute and 23 seconds. Shit.

"You could of came and helped me?" I yelled, watching him Houdini himself out of the room. The locks on the doors are no match for Thomas. I swore at him. The rude insult cracks through the fog.

He fed one right back at me, "Well sorry, but I had holograms to kill," He threw a knife into the head of a hologram. Lifting his hands placing two fingers out to air quote. The blue blocks splattered at his feet. He ran a hand through his brown hair. The tattooed hand and arm blurred through the fog. I glanced back at the clock. Letting another curse slip I saw the timer reach 30 seconds. The red lights flashing with the blank high-pitched voice echoing for 30 seconds remain, throughout the training centre.

"Well what's left to do?" Thomas chuckled, his sarcasm cutting deeply into the fog. His brown eyes flickered towards me hidden in the fog. The white clouds hovering over our shoulders.

"Pull that Houdini shit you do and get us the hell out of here," I yelled across the room with a growl from the depths of my throat. The red lights flash a bright 20 on the screen. I raised my chin high over the fog and surveyed the room. The blue holograms reappeared; springing into action I shoved a blade into its chest. Watching the blue blocks fall onto my feet. I turned to Thomas roundhouse kicking one in the back. We both exchanged sly glances and sprinted to the locked door. The fog covered my chin.

"Unlock the door," I screamed at him I raised my hands to attempt to fiddle with the lock. He pushed me aside. All I could do was hope. And I am not hopeful. Thomas fiddled with the padlock his hands trembling with the pick he had hidden behind his ear.

The lock fell to the floor. The loud clang echoed throughout the centre, and the fog blurred my vision. The white gas covered my eyes like a blanket. A loud alarm sounded, cracking throughout the room. I dreaded the sound of the alarm. The clock had stopped. Game Over.

The fog melted over my shoulders and then fell back into the white matted floor. As it never existed.

My eyes slid to Thomas. He placed the pick back behind his ear, and the metal loop curved into place over his dark rosewood skin. His chocolate eyes shared a glimpse of the screen. The clock froze in place. The time etching in the empty abyss. The clock glared a time. From the look on Thomas' face, we didn't expect it.

00:00:01

"Thank f*$k," I sighed placing my blade back into my belt and pulling the strap over my hip. Thomas and I exchanged glances for a final time before we were grabbed and escorted out of the training centre. Their tight grasp on our arms branded our skin.

Let the fun begin