The concept here is basically ripped from Assassin's Creed, but the story itself is totally my own. So this is fan-fiction,I guess? anyways, here goes:
Then he broke my arm. Again. FUCK!!! I screamed in my head, only grunting softly out loud, like I was trained to do. When I fell, he raised his mace, ready for a downward strike. As his arm came down, I sliced his wrist with the hidden blade on my left arm. He never saw it coming. He dropped the weapon, and I sweep-kicked his legs out from under him as I rose to my feet. I scooped up the mace and smashed his chest with it. I started to walk away when he pulled out a small pistol and loaded it. I began to sprint towardsthe ledge of the bridge when he fired. I cried out when the bullet hit my arm, grazing the jagged edges of the broken bones. In pain, I tripped and fell over the edge, plummeting to my apparent death....
But look at me; I've gotten ahead of myself. As intriguing as the story of my epic battle with this unnamed bastard may be, it's how I got to be on that bridge that makes a more interesting tale.
My name's Elias Sullivan, and I'm an assassin. Not like, 'Kills random people for money assassin'. I'm more of an 'Kills evil, vile bastards for the greater good of society' assassin. Admittedly, it's not the best name for ourselves. And just to be clear, it's not particularly easy to become an assassin. It's not like I filled out an application in the back of a comic book or something like that. I had to- *Sigh* getting ahead of myself again. Let me start from the beginning....
It was my 18th birthday when shit hit the fan and everything fell apart. I had woken up that morning, looked into the mirror and said that something was wrong. My skin was just as dark as it'd always been, the same dark mocha shade. My eyes just as brown and tired as they always were, facial hair in its not-so-neat goatee as always, and hair in the same dity-cottonball 'fro it usually was, however something about how I looked seemed out of place. I shrugged and got dressed, hustling downstairs. My mom was already in the kitchen making breakfast. Something about her suddenly seemed out of place as well. Her skin was the same shade as my own, her haire in it's usual beaded braids, and she had a twinkle in her eye that I saw in myself from time to time. It was only then that I realized how in shape my mother was. She had a sleek, athletic build, like a runner, which seemed odd, onsidering she never worked out or ran, yet somehow I knew she was physically capable of feats of vast speed and agility.
"Mornin, Ma, " I said as I grabbed the whole jug of orange juice from the fridge. "Save some for your sister, Eli." My sister Jazz came down the stairs and snatched the jug just as I finished drinking from it. "Yea, you gotta learn to share, runt." I sighed and lost my cool for a second. It was my birthday, and I was gonna say whatever I wanted. "God, Jazz, why do you still live here? You graduated college like two years ago, I mean, damn..." Suddenly, there was a knife erupted in the counter. "Stop fighting! One day all you'll have is each other! Just stop it!" I hesitated for a moment. "Ma, are you ok?" I noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. She took a deep breathbefore she spoke. "Just go to school, and we'll celebrate when you get back, ok?" "Ma, are you sure you're ok?" She grabbed me by both shoulders. "Just promise me you'll try to enjoy your birthday, ok?" At that point I was starting to get worried. Mymom wasn't scared of anything, yet here she was, terrified and on the verge of tears. "Ok, promise..." She smiled at me, still blinking back tears. "Good." Then she pulled me into a big bear hug. "I love you, son." She was actung very strange, and I didn't like it. Then she pressed a small spot in the back of my head, somewhere along my brainstem, and for a split second, I became inconcievably aware and alert.I could see a fly in the pancake batter on the counter, could smell a carton of milk in the fridge begin to spoil, could taste a hint of morning breath through the minty flavor of toothpaste, could feel a scar on my mom's arm rubbing against my neck, and could hear Jazz trying to discreetly let a fart rip. Then my mom whispered in my ear, and the words buzzed strangely in my ears. "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." Then I saw a symbol flash in the back of my mind. A diamond? Then I felt a bit dizzy. Mom smiled at me again, her eyes still puffy and full of tears. "Now go." I walked out of the front door, unable to shake the feeling that that'd be the last time I saw my mother again.
