❝ do you remember the last thousand years? ❞
in a vicious melody spread through numerous lifetimes, a time warper spends the last thousand years trying to remember her lover and bring his soul back.
in exchange for the death of an undying god.
[base...
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2 0 1 3 shades of shanghai
SHANGHAI WAS A BLUR of dazzling grandeur and bright neon as the day made way for the rebellious night. Perhaps it was the warm summer air that made it all the sweeter to retire for the evening. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that today marked the day of the summer solstice, where the Blossom Hotel would be holding what could possibly be the largest event of the year, aside from during the new year.
Yiko pressed herself further against the wall, sweat bedecked her forehead from the humid atmosphere. Pistol in hand, she strained her hearing for the voices of her targets beyond the wall. The last thing she wanted was to spend the evening on an assignment, and decided she would get this over with as soon as possible.
Above her, the clock seemed to tick faster the longer she waited. Inhale, exhale, she breathed as quietly as possible. It wasn't long before two voices, one gruff and one low, sounded from the other side. She readied her other hand on her dao just in case.
Until the wood creaked beneath her feet, and the silence that followed was simply too heavy to bear. Yiko cursed inwardly as she returned to her spot, when one of the men went to check the noise. "Is something there?" The man with the gruff voice asked. As the steps that exited the room were steady, Yiko guessed it was the one with the low voice that could blow her cover. Only then did she realize the one with the gruff voice had been asking the question to his companion.
The second man did not answer, only advanced forward into the dim corridor. Adjacent to her, she could make out his shadow, and she could easily see that he was lean and possibly well trained in martial arts. This would have to be messy, if she were not careful.
The clock continued ticking, the seconds running out — one, two — she could hear his breathing just behind the wall that conjoined the two corridors. "Good evening." Her whisper faded as soon as she swung her blade towards the man who had been caught by surprise. Perfect. He stumbled, a gash of red blooming across his chest, tainting his pristine suit.
Her bones hummed from the scent of the scarlet liquid, but she held herself back as she swung a clean slice across his neck, not allowing him any time to react and use his skills against her. He fell to the floor. Dead. The blade swiveled in her hand as she strode over to the room he'd come from. Surely enough, the man with the gruff voice stood in outrage, panic evident in his eyes. "What is happening? Who sent you?" He backed away, "Was it Ong? Qian? Kun that bastard, it's him isn't it?"
A gunshot cut through his words, followed by his strained cry as he collapsed from the pain radiating from his leg. "Too much talk," Yiko knelt in front of him, forcing him to stare up at her by grabbing his thinning hair back, "shall I cut your tongue out and drink from the blood that is spilled from it?"
