Slum Royalty: Moon Murri

Chapter 2 - Rules Of Being An Assassin

Chapter 2 - Rules Of Being An Assassin

It was an assassin's playground. Why no one had tried it before, was beyond Luke. Well it wasn't beyond Luke. The obvious answer was because the people in Alvis were so shallow and ignorant, that they had nothing of real value. Yes the upper class had their money but there was no point in killing one of them, they wouldn't hurt a fly. Not wouldn't, couldn't. That was of course not literal, of course they could kill flies, they just couldn't kill the people that brought the flies. The slums people.

The building almost seemed to yearn for him to enter. He knew exactly where her room was, a kind maid had offered the information freely, as soon as he had offered some coins. It was odd to be back in his childhood town after all these years. Especially the upper class, why had he said yes to the job. Because you were annoyed at Lena, over what, a pen. Her face dissolved into his mind. They had gone two years without an argument it was bound to happen sooner or later, just not over something so stupid. Forget that now.

Clasping onto the bricks that stuck out, he clambered his way until he was on the second floor. The window was roughly draped with heavy curtains; the maid had obviously done this in a rush. He silently thanked that there were no net curtains, he would have got his clothes caught in the netting, they had a habit of catching onto his weapons making them tinkle and causing him to be extremely loud. He could just see the light of a dying fire within. The sun was already brightening up the surrounding streets around him; if he didn't hurry someone might notice the dark figure on the side of the building trapped in his own thoughts. The window was open. This is too easy; soundlessly he dragged his body over the window sill tumbling into the room. Well that was classy, maybe the nets would have been more practical.

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Moon was awake, the sound was small but she knew she wasn't alone. The feeling of being watched had magnified. Stay where you are, she regulated her breathing to the pace of a sleeping person. Her senses were reared to the point of a sharpened dagger. The cold surface of the blade pricked her throat letting a stream of hot metallic liquid slide to her collar bone. She resisted the urge to wince or make any form of reaction. She was safe and she knew it, pure curiosity stopped her from reacting too fast. She had never had an assassin attempt on herself before; she could never fathom what others felt.

The assassin was slow on his work it didn't mean that he wasn't swift with a blade. She wasn't sure that she wanted to found out as her common sense kicked in. She let a reckless smile slip onto her face. "Hurry up, I want to sleep sometime." Moon snapped open her eyes and surprised herself as she saw the face of a boy barely older then herself. The dying light from the fireplace and the added light from the now open curtains were bright enough for her to see the features of the assassin. He was about eighteen; his eyes were like a cloud of misty purple, almost mystical with the light of youth shinning in them. He was, no doubt the youngest assassin she had ever come across, he had fine sharp features that would normally be very attractive if he wasn't holding a knife against her throat. Distracted by surprise she barely registered that the dagger was taken away from her throat.

With one movement she took out a dagger from underneath her pillow and forced her weight onto him so that they collapsed to the floor together. The small metal handle felt cold and familiar to her touch. Holding it to his throat one move and he could die. His own knife lay uselessly out of reach. Why isn't he reacting? His face was calm with no hint of anger within his mystical eyes. She noticed something within them that disappear so suddenly she almost doubted she saw it. A slither of light ran across her room as someone opened her door.

Her eyes still watching the assassin she asked the person at the door for her brother, the assassin showed a hint of surprise obviously not noticing the retreating person as they left as noiselessly as they had come. Still holding the dagger to his throat the other searched all the pockets she could find for hidden weapons of any sort. Taking out four discs and three more daggers she threw them out of his reach, he carried so little for any assassin that she had known. The ones that she found were remotely large and easy to find. Does he have more? This can't be it.