Resolution

Chapter 1

I kick the door to my room open and let my weapon bag fall from my right shoulder and onto the floor with a clatter. I head straight to the bathroom to wash the blood off my hands. Oh, how grateful I am for the privacy of an ensuite. Thanks to my promotion I now no longer have to live with the other trainees in the college. Well, I suppose that's because I'm not exactly a trainee anymore. I finished two years early because I'm just that awesome.

  I watch the blood drain down the sink with a smirk, relishing the memory of my last victim's screams. A century ago I would have been prosecuted for what I just did but thanks to our system, people like me have a use. Instead of rotting in a jail cell for ridding the world of filth, I can now relax, watch a bit of TV and wait for the money to flood in on my bank account. 

Honestly,  I don't have much use for the money I get. I don't pay for a gym membership because I use the facilities here at West Maple College and I don't need to pay for food because they provide me with it. So I usually just buy myself a good time, if you know what I mean. Not that a good looking guy like me really needs to pay for that sort of thing, it's just that what with all the killing and training, I don't have much time to go to a bar and pick up a chick.

I look up from the sink and wink at myself in the mirror. Hell yeah! Even after a hard day of work I still look smoking hot. I run my fingers through my dark hair to spike it up in certain places, giving it a messy but sexy look. My blue eyes have a devilish glint to them, just the way I like. Seeing myself like this makes me want to go out to a bar- it's certainly cheaper than paying for the experience and I enjoy the hunt.

Deciding I deserve a treat, I hit play on my iPod so that loud rock music comes blaring out of my new bose speakers. Money does have some uses. I saunter over to my wardrobe and pull out my favourite red button down shirt and some tight jeans. I chuck my blood soaked clothes into a pile by my weapon bag- I'll get one of the trainees to clean those later. Damn, that was a messy job. Usually I get out without spilling a speck of blood but I think I got a little carried away today. The guy insulted my looks so he deserved what he got.Pulling on a new leather jacket, I look myself up and down in the mirror. I'm effin' hot and I'm going to get some tonight.

I stuff some fifties in my pocket and tug the door open eagerly, looking forward to a good night out. Suddenly, something hits me forcefully in the chest and I go flying back into my room, landing on my bed. I grab my pen knife from under my pillow and sit up quickly, ready for another assault.

"Relax, Oscar, it's me." A middle-aged blonde dude laughs as he walks in. 

"Lucas, I should have known. No need to kick me, I got the job done two weeks before the due date." I snap, rather angry at my boss's way of treating me.

"You should be prepared at all times, dear boy. Anyway, where are you off to?" He asks, picking up my bloody clothes and smirking.

"A bar. Decided I needed a night out after that job. Some just won't go quietly."

Lucas throws the clothes back on the floor and looks back at me, the smirk never leaving his face. I stay sitting and wait for him to explain what the hell he's doing in my room. He knows I enjoy my privacy and how I hate intrusions.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here then?" He asks after about a minute of awkward silence. "You're not going out. Not tonight."

I frown. I rarely go out and tonight he wants to stop me? Great.

"Another job already, Lucas? Look, you know I love it but one night off never hurt anyone. And I did finish the last assignment early."

He keeps looking at me, clearly enjoying depriving me of my night out. The bastard. Lucas and I never did see eye to eye. He always hated how good I am at this job and he actually tried to stop me from getting my promotion. So I know that whatever explanation he has for this, it won't be good.

"You're going to have to spend the night scheduling your classes." He sneers.

I look at him in confusion. My classes? 

"I don't go to any classes any more." I'm a free man.

"Oh no, you see, this time you won't be the student, you're the teacher. I don't feel like teaching the new trainees this term so I'm leaving that glorious task to you. I want to get back to my routes- back to doing the missions."

It takes me a moment to process what he just told me. He's doing the missions, I'm teaching the classes. Lucas- a guy who's ten years older than me and no where near as fit- wants to handle my missions while I - Oscar Everard, the best damn assassin to walk the Earth- teaches a bunch of idiots how not to get killed.

 "No! You can't do that! I was trained to be an assassin, not a stupid teacher! Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't teach a class even if I wanted to."

He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. "Actually, I think you'll find I can do that. Part of the trainee programme is learning how to be a good leader- that's something you skipped because you finished early. So Christina and I both think this will do you some good. It's only for a few weeks and then you'll be back to your usual routine- so long as all of your trainees pass. If they don't then that means that you've failed. And you know what we do with the failures."

I gulp and he smiles at me evilly. I do know what happens to the failures. I  happen to the failures. I remember the way their screams cut off and how their eyes widen in fear as I sever their jugular, ending their pitiful lives. And now I know that could be me. Leadership isn't my thing. I'm a lone wolf, not a team player.

"Good luck, Oscar. You know we're all routing for you." He lies as he strides importantly out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.

I sink back down onto my bed, staring at the wall. Shit. 

I have some serious work to do.