The Assassin's Mask (On Hold)

1 | "Danny Storm."

⚔ Copyright © Reilly 2016 ⚔

Danny Storm laugh maniacally once coming out of her lucid dream. She shook the memories from her head, black hair covering her dirty face.

The Assassin clad in black sat bloodied in the chair. Her capturer lurked around her. The man was no man at all, but a skinwalker. His current image was of a beggar with a graying beard, but angry and hungry for something more than mortal food. Danny saw the bloodlust in his slit eyes.

"You think you can kill me," She laughed once more, winking at him. "Trust me, you'll be the one begging for a swift end, but I would not owe you that much kindness."

The skinwalker growled at her, baring his black fangs. Such a vile species they were. Danny often compared them to the Weres, who shared the similar ferocious tempers and wild instincts. "I know who you are, assassin!" His tongue hissed at her like a poisonous snake. "Why did you plan to kill me?"

The assassin, Danny, rolled her eyes before shaking her head, "I was not sent to kill, you are lucky." She leaned forward, daring him to step closer to her. "I was sent to track you and find your headquarters." A malicious smile lined her pink, split lips as she spoke, "I'd say I've succeeded."

The beggar clicked his tongue, "Oh, but my dear," He approached her and grabbed her chin, roughly jerking it to face him, "you are alone. You will die in this cellar and bring victory to all skinwalkers across Ariya. My people will be the dominant race for their grand triumph as they bring the world your head." He stroked her pale, cut cheek, "And, my, it is a pretty one."

Danny leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I don't take well to strangers that feel me up," with that, she slammed his head with hers. He fell backwards, groaning and holding his bleeding head. Danny leaned back in the chair, before swinging her body forwards, flipping the chair over and onto the skinwalker. He struggled before she kicked her boot's heal straight into his accursed face.

She sighed, "If only he'd have kept his hands to himself." The assassin knelt her head down, pulling the brooch from her hair and pushing the button. The blade slipped out of the bejeweled clip.

It was just too easy sometimes, she thought to herself.

Cutting her binds, she stood up and locked the cellar door. Brown walls of dirt lined the room of the underground room. She had successfully infiltrated the skinwalker's compound. Alaric would be proud, but would simply nod in approval. That is all he ever did, never showing emotion clearly but implying it.

Danny Storm began to count as she covered her face with her black mask.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The cellar door swung open, breaking the lock and revealing her accomplice and partner. Renier's humanly features were that of a farm boy. He was simply not intimidating; Ren was tranquil and naïve. With curly blond hair and freckles that covered his nose and cheeks, he was a great bait. Danny used him to bait their targets into believing he was innocent, when in reality they were both cold blooded killers of the night.

Ren's green eyes met Danny's sapphire bright ones. "I've got the amulet." Danny nodded. "Let's go," Ren demanded, looking slightly fearful of the changing images of the skinwalkers.

"Let's." She said, but returned to the skinwalker. Kneeling to the ground above the skinwalker's unconscious body, she drew her knife. "Tuus tempus est exactus," She whispered into his ear before plunging her dagger into his throat; his blood ran red on her the cold, gray floor, staining it.