A silent click reverberates through the snowy alley as the last tumbler falls into place beneath my lock pick. Finally. My hands are nearly frozen to the bone, and I damn regret taking this miserable contract. Kill a man in his bed, beside the woman who called the contract. She never mentioned the iced over lock and door handle.
I sigh quietly, watching my breath fade away into the chilled air, before glancing around and entering the home. A hot blast of air nearly pushes my hood down. I step up the rotting wooden stairs in a crouch, a small vial of poison in hand. Maybe I should kill the wretched woman instead of the poor man. According to her, he needs to die because of a small disagreement about, oh. What was it? A silver dagger found under the mans pillow.
He claims to have it for protection, and she argues why not just have an iron dagger? Because silver is more aesthetically pleasing.
The hair all over my body stands up as a tense air kisses my skin, and i stop in place, examining the oddly dark and cloudy main hall.
This house. Its so.. empty. Theres nobody here? I drop the poison, and reach for a dagger that disappeared. Standing abruptly, whirling around to find the very woman who placed the contract on her husband, toying with my ancient, poison coated dagger. I growl, and back away.
"Take off your hood, assassin. I know your true identity, there is no reason to hide from me." She purrs, swaying from some kind of intoxication.
I hiss, reaching for a small vial of a special brew used to temporarily blind enimies for a safe escape, throwing it swiftly at her feet. Within the next moment, I have the womans hands behind her back with my deadly grip and my dagger cutting her cheek. I click my tongue, and repeat her last words. "You have no reason to hide from me," Then smile wolfishly as her body goes ridgid at my voice. The reaction I crave from every life I take. Then, I take her life, breathing in deeply when her limp body falls to my feet, and a pool of deep red spills out of a cavity in her chest, where her heart once dwelled.
I kneel down, pulling my cowl down to lick a dab of blood from my finger before leaving.
-
"Good work," my brother-in-arms praises, and I nod, tossing the fat coin purse onto his desk as I faze by.
"I hate the cold." Is all I respond, smirking at his stillness.
YOU ARE READING
EndRep's Short Stories
Short StoryThe lovely, exciting, short stories yours truly has come up with, I'll most likely update this more than any of my other works, since I will be using this as a way to reduce writer's block and also when I just get some random ideas, May consist of...
