An Assassin In Time

Chapter 6.2: Keep Him Dead

Part Two

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The suit unsurprisingly, was far too small. Castian settled on a pair of dark jeans that had no holes in them and a black T-shirt with a Chinese quote on it in gold lettering.

He moved through the common room, returning the waves both Taren and Markel gave him. The latter was laying on the recliner, backwards, with his head of dark curls almost touching the floor. The tv was on, and an anime sword fight was in full progress. Both boy's quickly returned their attention to the screen. Castian stopped at the top of the stairs. He watched them for a moment, shaking his head.

Those two were of an age; about fifteen. Their interest both mirrored and exact opposites. They were the only ones who were really friends with each other. Except for Castian and Deric...

He swallowed, blinking away the warmth behind his eyes. Five months. He didn't look at the desk as he turned and took the stairs, two at a time.

No one lingered on the floor below. Only the ever present sounds of machines greeted him with their soft hums. The beads clacked faintly in his pocket as he took the next flight of stairs. Castian didn't know why he'd taken to keeping them on him, maybe just because he didn't want anyone going into his room and finding them. A string of beads, taken from an alien, in another time. Yeah, that would be a blast to explain.

He stepped off the last stair into a long hall. To the left and right doors lead off it, and a single large and imposing door rested at the end. The walls were a dark maroon; his blood wouldn't have shown up here. His boots padded softly against the maple flooring.

He opened a door and slipped in, moving through another two rooms till he reached the parlors.

They were situated off two sides of another room where a woman sat behind an impossibly large desk. She looked up at him. Her thick glasses made her look like a startled owl as she blinked behind them.

"Castian." His name was clipped. Always to the point this one, especially with him. Not that it mattered, routines had to be kept dammit.

Sauntering over to her desk, Castian leaned up against it. "As charmed as ever to see me, Roselin." She sniffed, her nose wrinkling against her glasses. Honestly, he did not smell. What was with people thinking he smelled today? He'd had two showers. "So," he continued, "does my destiny await behind door A," he gestured broadly to the leftmost door, its wood a gentle golden color, "or," his arm swung to the door across from it, the exact same color, "door B?"

She sniffed again. I do not smell. "They're in the smoking lounge."

"Ah, the smoking lounge." He straightened. "Thank you my dear, can't wait to do this again."

With yet another sniff--maybe she had a cold--Roselin returned to clicking on her computer. His hand was halfway to the knob when she spoke suddenly. "Oh, and Castian," she tipped her glasses down on her nose, looking at him over them, "don't be a smartass in there today."

He put a hand over his heart, gasping. Then he pushed the door inward a bit, still looking was her. "Me?" She rolled her eyes. "I'd never," mouthing the words, he stepped backwards into the room.

"--Simple really," a man dressed in a very fine suit was saying--seriously, he might as well have been wearing money, "all I need you to do is keep him dead."

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So, who is our scoundrel going to keep dead? Will he keep them dead? Are they already dead O_o? So may questions I have all the answers to but will never tell, MWA HA HA. Oh wait... I update on friday, so I guess you'll find out more then XD.

As always if you enjoyed, and have been enjoying this tale of insanity and assassinations, consider a vote. It only take a moment, and they make us writers feel so appreciated! Comments are of course welcome, feel free to ask all the questions, or make snarky remarks back at Castian, we all know he deserves it.