The Story of an Untold Myth

Twisted Trap

Scotland...
Alexand saw no man in the castle there. He walked the halls slowly, right and left, no one was there.
He suspected something, but he wasn't sure what it was. He heard something, and as soon as he turned to identify the noise, dozens of men jumped in front of him, covering his surroundings.
Shamus was ahead of the troops, laughing as always.
They were about 70 well built soldiers ready to die for their master. Alexand, and although he could've killed them all, known better to focus on Shamus first.
"Surrender or you may taste death."  Shamus said, also adding a laugh too.
That laugh got on Alexand's nerves...
"I said surrend..."
Before he completed his word, Alexand already dropped his gear, saying no more word.
Two men held Alexand into captive and beat him up a bit, but little did they know, their beating is nothing like the torture he had there.
Alexand had a hidden plan. It was perfectly hidden he didn't find it yet.
Hours went by, and he kept looking around for something to use. And he grabbed a small metallic  key-alike shape to cut the ropes from in-between.
But for his luck, Shamus decided to pay a visit.
"Hmmm, Alexand. The artistic of wars. Delightful!"
"You don't look so much of an artistic now you do?"
Shamus added with a laugh. Shamu's laugh made Alexand more anxious to kill him.
"For a fat, bearded guy always laughing like a crazy fuck, you don't look like a Warlord neither. I imagined you to be; more fit and healthier than this dipshit you're already in. What a shame." Alexand responded.
Shamus slapped him, "You dare to disrespect me in my own CASTLE!?" Shamus raged.
Alexand had him exactly where he wanted him to be. Anger had always blocked wisdom, and with wisdom blocked, foolishness was shown whether in battles, or wars.
"I am curious. Tell me about you. I want to know more about the man Dracul sent for me to kill."
Alexand looked him in the eyes. Now he's the one who was getting on Shamus' nerves...
"Alright then, I will."
"I came a poor child, right-raped. Innocent of the hypocrisy that took action. The death of my parents broke me. It was my first genuine devastation. I pleaded to thee, and I confounded myself. I was found rerating the streets, a small vendor. I was taken into custody, having a complete transformation. What was once a poor, and fragile kid, has been forged into a war machine. I have been turned from a human, to a ruthless beast. They trained me, and made my body more fit, more durable. They crafted my mind in wisdom, stealth in perception, and precision in notifications. My tension became breeze, as I set a legion to my fees. I concentrated now, after years of hell, on my own soul, to build an empire of stealth. I learnt the art of killing, and acknowledged the knowledge of death. And as my allegiance begun, I believed in death."
After that been said, Alexand twisted his hands, got loose of the rope, jumped on Shamus and hit him hard. He didn't see it coming.
With twisted neck, Shamus was dead. Done perfectly with ease...
On his way outside, he passed through a locked door.
He couldn't help it but to seek what's inside. He unlocked it, and entered, slowly closing it.
He saw letters and books and writings all shattered on a desk.
He started reading them hopefully he'd find something related to the crime. As he did, he came across with a letter from Jaffa...
"What the...?" Alexand opened it.
"This is Master Jaffa, one of the co-founders of The League of Assassins. I have sent an apprentice to you, called Alexand; he's an artistic in wars. I gave him wrong coordinates to follow. I want you to set a trap for his arrival. With all necessary needs, Alexand must be killed for personal vendetta. And thank you."
"Jaffa..."