Hitman: Codename 47 (Novelization)

Chapter 1: Codename 47

47 held his breath, he closed one eye as he placed his crosshair directly at the target's head. One moment, one chance. He knew if he missed, it was over.

A second passed, the target stopped walking.

Another passed, and he pulled the trigger.

Romania, 1998

The asylum walls itself were stark and shining, blue and oppressing. 47 let his eyes wander around. Dirty, unbelievably dirty.

It had a sense of magic in the air that couldn't be denied, he knew that much. 

He gritted his teeth and  strained his eyes, he wasn't sure if he'd been here before. He felt like he'd been with the same damn clothes he had on right now with his entire past. Funny story: a real funny one.

But one he felt like he could actually believe, there didn't seem to be anyone here with him. The sounds no more than rats and soft breathing.

Breathing that left the air cold. Breathing that he could actually feel. Damn him. What was he even doing here?

His head hurt, his teeth hurt, everything hurt. Hurt from trying to make sense of what was happening.

Heartbeats seem to skip by many times, he didn't want to move. After all, what was the point?

He didn't know how he even got here, the bright lights were shining. They were shining bright: bright and straight into his eyes, he closed them; the darkness was worse.

47 shook his thoughts clear, the steps in front of him were white. Tall and elevated, with the door at the very top.

A door that seem to perfectly incapsulate his thoughts at that moment. He didn't care. Approached it and felt the handle.

Rust and memories, memories that were very close to him yet so far. Damn him.

He rested on the handle some more, before twisting it open and leaving the asylum behind.

1999

The blades of the helicopter swung heavily as it softly landed onto the helipad. It was small compared to the vast snowy landscape. 47 made himself comfortable on the concrete below.

He was shivering, his black snow coat covered him well enough, but the freezing cold temperature was in stark contrast to the homely and rigid environment of the asylum.

Mountains surrounded him, snow covered the vast hills, for once, he felt great. It was picturesque, the atmosphere took him to another place; yet he knew what he was here for.

The large metal doors of the facility lifted open. The heavy engine could be heard loud and clear. 

Industrialism was everything the facility was. It was firm, towering above, a part of the mountain itself. It sure stood as strong as the hills.

A woman in a snow coat was standing at its entrance, stance relaxed, and a smile on her face. Very welcoming, you could probably forget she works for an agency hired to murk people.

'Nice to meet you. I'm Diana Burnwood of the International Contract Agency.' She said.

47 looked her down, analyzing. Trying to pick out anomalies in her character, yet he came to nothing. She seemed, just, normal.

'You're the one?'

'You'd be right, follow me, I'll show you around.'

The doors shut behind them as they walked inside. The warmth instantly hit 47, this felt like home. They passed armories, training areas, everything you'd expect in a facility like this one.