Assassin (Marichat fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Taken

Adrien woke up suddenly, his heart roughly skipping a beat. Blonde hair plastered on his damp forehead, he swung his legs out of bed and wiped his brow, then wiping his sweat on his nightshirt.

He had suddenly awoken from a terrible dream; although there really was nothing that stood out, all he could remember seeing and feeling were dark shapes, glaring red light, screams, and crooked laughter that echoed in his ears.

It was strange; Adrien very rarely had bad dreams. Usually, whenever he slept, he was only greeted with a dark, dreamless sleep, and on the rare occasion, a fleeting dream he could never remember in the morning. So for him to be startled awake by such a terrible, horrible dream... It was simply unnatural.

Adrien knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Slumber was hard for him to achieve in the first place; besides, it wasn't that early. It was only about two in the morning, and him being an early riser, Adrien noted that it was an acceptable time for him to get up and maybe go for a walk, or perhaps start on the chores.

Slipping on a pale, white shirt, the assassin yawned and shoved his feet into slippers, patting the door frame of his room before exiting and walking down the hallway, towards the kitchen.

The blonde tried to make his footsteps as quiet as possible, since he knew that Marinette would probably not appreciate being woken up at such an hour by the whining creak of the floorboards.

Granted, she did room quite a ways away from him. Their rooms were separated; each got a wing of the manor. But despite the spacious accommodations, the thin walls and airy vents made it easy for sound to echo throughout the villa.

The emerald-eyed assassin shuffled quickly down the grand set of stairs that connected two of the wings, making sure he didn't stumble or slip on the carpeted steps. His hand brushed the rail, and in the dead silence, Adrien could practically hear the chill run up through his spine.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, Adrien made his way towards the kitchen, quietly flicking on the light as he entered. It was surprising that the grand mansion still had running water and electricity even if it was not in use, but Adrien supposed, when you were rich you could afford to be a bit frivolous with spending and bills.

The kitchen, paved in a suave creme color, glowed in the artificial light. The stainless silver appliances gleamed, as if brand new, and the marble counter tops reflected the glare of the lightbulbs.

Sighing, the blonde opened various cabinets until he stumbled upon a box of generic cereal, made with wheat, corn, and apparently honey. Adrien didn't particularly care what the flavor was or how old it happened to be, so long as he was able to eat. Opening the fridge, he snatched a carton of milk and set it next to the box of cereal. He then grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and chuckled sleepily at his warped features in the round polished features of the stainless spoon.

The next task was tricky. Although he was a master of agility and superior at flexibillity, Adrien was quite lazy and didn't want to hop onto the counter to retrieve a ceramic bowl that sat on the top shelf. Stretching lightly, the blonde stood on the tips of his toes and flexed his fingers, feeling the smooth surface of the bowl graze his digits. Grunting in pertinence, Adrien clawed at the bowl, only to have it topple over and crash onto the floor.

The assassin cringed at the unbearable noise. It was painfully loud and abrasive; the sound echoed and reverberated off the walls, and Adrien knew it would wake Marinette up.

He stood there, gazing at the shards of ceramic bowl, listening intently for any irritated yell or cuss. The villa was deathly silent, the eerie nothingness sending a chill up the blonde's spine. "Marinette?" he called up, voice uneasy. When he received no reply, Adrien panicked quietly. Surely, she heard him break the bowl? And yell her name? Unless she was injured, or in a very deep sleep, there wasn't any way she couldn't have heard him.

He had never ran so quickly. Tearing out of the kitchen, Adrien fumbled up the stairs and dashed into Marinette's designated wing, tripping in the dark. When he finally reached her room, he pounded on the door, yelling; "Marinette? Marinette!"

He cussed as he heard no reply, and pounded on the door with one hand as the other searched frantically for the doorknob. "Mari!" he yelled out again, tugging at the doorknob with both hands, grunting as he twisted the knob with all his might. It didn't budge.

Hands throbbing from the pain, Adrien rammed his shoulder into the door. With a shuddering groan, it fell open, and the blonde burst inside, eyes searching in the darkness. He tore through the bed sheets, glanced under the bed, and flung open the closet. She was nowhere. "Buginette!" he yelled, a horrible feeling crawling up his throat. His eyes watered, but not before noticing Marinette's window open, a cold draft breezing in. Wiping his eyes, Adrien creeped closer.

An indescrible, burning anger erupted in his heart as he saw the indents and scratches of nails on the windowsill, such created by someone fighting their way back inside. Adrien could only draw one conclusion;

Marinette didn't run, didn't escape, didn't vanish.

She was taken.

whats up biiiiiiiiitcccchhheeessss

sorry for the lack of updates, school is currently kicking my ass

but, once I get a new phone and summer rolls around, I should be free to update and put out new books.

also here's an early chapter for being such good little lovelies and being so patient with me 💫