107

Part one: killers are not born. They're made

CHAPTER ONE:

107 missions. 107 successes. 107 murders.

Once upon a time there was a happy little girl...
Then she grew up and turned into a monster.
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The Red Brothers society was created years ago by three ruthless warlock brothers. They spilled so much blood, the colour became in their name. They take with no remorse and give only death. Witches and warlocks from around the world were taken and turned into assassins for the Red Brothers' agenda. Soon enough, they had developed an entire society with its own murderous hierarchy.

Their symbol was an ancient Viking symbol that literally meant, 'where there is a will, there is a way.' Even such meaningful sayings they had twisted and made into a code for their murdering society.

I didn't think they would come for us. I was blinded by the feeling of safety. But only a fool is not afraid of them. I had learned that the hard way.
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Having nothing to do, I lay on my bed forming shadows that swirled around me in eerie grace. I didn't understand it when I first discovered this talent but I had learned to accept it and even mastered it. In secret. However, I wasn't entirely sure what it was good for or how I came to acquire it since I didn't have any knowledge of anyone in our family having this ability. So it became a mere source of entertainment that I don't give much thought to.

I was inside my confined quarters. I tilted my head sideways to see the name tag placed on the nightstand. Myra Ashburn. Your name is the only thing you are allowed to bring with you, everything else is to be forgotten. Every principle and moral you were raised to follow; terminated. Your family never hears about you again unless you died– or got killed. In which case, they send a letter informing the parents. That was it.  As soon as you were caught, you become property of the society; nothing more and nothing less.

I lay in bed eyes closed, but mind wide open and memories searing painfully through my brain. I went back to a time when I felt safe. I had my family: my mother, Meredith; my father, Alexander;  and my twin brother, Nash.

Fast forward a few years, it was our 16th birthday. The year our parents died. They were in a car accident. We were now alone. We were shattered and lost. We were also now potential targets. It was the perfect age to take a witch or warlock since it was the age at which you were still starting to comprehend your powers. They were smart about it; they would take the targets when they were sure that there was no one around that could possibly stop them. But that didn't bother us one bit. The Northern Isles were not known to be a place with strong witches or warlocks. I guess there is a first for everything.

Nash was always my best friend and every birthday we would go up to the woods just on the outskirts of the town. It was my idea to go. Our parents would have wanted us to go on with our lives and be strong. It was on that day when it all started. I remember the screams escaping both our mouths simultaneously as a group of Brothers were dragging Nash away. Nash, the kind boy with a dimpled smile. The one who hadn't shared any similarities in our appearance save for our brown hair. The boy who had no evil or mischievous bone in his body. He always had more compassion in his fingers than I had in my entire body. An assassin; he could never be. It would have shattered the last piece of him that was still fighting and trying to pull through. He wouldn't have survived. We had both lost those dearest to us and he couldn't take any more. Where he had compassion, I had power. I have always been the stronger twin but not once have I felt superior and made him feel inferior. I remember thinking, I am stronger. They will take me instead.

I remember vanishing and reappearing right in front of them. I was one of the witches who had extra special abilities; teleportation. And shadow-bending, which I was yet to discover... And hide. They had stopped and glared at me. They couldn't take both of us, of course. Having family with you on base is a liability, a weakness. "I am the stronger twin." I had flashed my eyes at them. The deep brown in them had turned blue and the veins on my arms were glowing and pulsating with the power rushing within me. Maybe I couldn't yet wield my power, but I had it and I could learn how use it. They dropped him to the ground and took my arms instead. "Happy birthday, brother." And that was the last thing I had told him before I felt a needle digging into my neck and then the world faded away into nothing more than a black abyss.