The Blood Assassin

Sniper

(TW - Read with Caution)

"Target in sight, awaiting orders," I whisper into my earpiece, my eye glued to the scope of my sniper rifle. The crosshairs are perfectly aligned, the target sitting unaware of her fate.

"Hold position," Rocs replies, his voice crackling through the earpiece. I remain frozen, the chill of the evening wind whipping through my hair. The sun set about an hour ago, and now the temperature is plummeting. I should've brought a jacket, but it's too late to worry about that.

As I keep my sights trained on the target, I find my mind drifting. It's hard to believe it's been nearly three years since my first mission: the assassination of the President of the United States. Now, I'm on mission #498.

The higher-ups promised that after completing 500 missions, I'll get to meet the Elites—the ones who assign the targets and run the whole operation. It's not the kind of reward most would want, but for me, it's exactly what I need. I'll finally be inside their headquarters, face-to-face with the people pulling the strings. They trust me, and I'll use that trust to find the answers I've been after for so long.

"Please confirm the target is still in sight," Rocs says, snapping me back to reality.

"Confirmed."

"Take the shot."

I exhale slowly, my finger curling around the trigger. My target, Maricelis Wright, just sat down at a table with a group of people. This won't be hard. Messy for those around her, sure, but for me, just another day at the office.

I've stopped wondering who these people are or why they need to die. I stopped caring a long time ago. All I need is a name, a face, and instructions. Today's mark is someone who's supposedly close to ending world hunger. Too bad she won't get the chance to finish it.

BANG!

The shot is clean, right between her eyes. I smile to myself. Even from 9,500 feet away, I've still got it.

"Target down," I say as I quickly disassemble my rifle, tucking the parts into my bag. I take out my binoculars and snap a few pictures of her slumped in her seat as the chaos erupts around her. Satisfied, I pack everything up and make my way to the stairwell.

Easy. I won't lie, I've become something of an expert at this. Some say I've even surpassed my parents in both skill and reputation. Every mission completed without a hitch. I haven't missed a target or botched a mission. At least, not since Julian.

"Nice work, Kija. Photos received. Mission #498 is complete. Await further instructions," Rocs' voice crackles again. I remove the earpiece and toss it into my bag. I don't usually get missions like this. Most of the time, they send me in for more personal jobs, where my looks and charm do half the work of extracting information before I take the target out. This one, though, required more stealth. They wanted to send a message: no one is fixing world hunger under their watch.

But whatever. Let them play their games. After Julian, I stopped caring about who I killed and why. Some people deserve it, though—true monsters hiding in plain sight. Julian was one of them. He got what was coming.

When I got back home that night after killing him, I watched the hidden camera footage of what had happened. I'd been suspicious, but the video confirmed everything.

It showed me stumbling into Julian's apartment, barely able to stand. I was drugged, clearly out of it, but he led me to his bedroom with that sick grin on his face. The bastard thought he had me.

In the footage, you can see me struggling to fight back, slurring my words as I begged him to stop. He pushed me onto the bed, ripping my clothes off, and pinning my wrists above my head. I was too weak to stop him as he forced my legs apart.