Assassin

Assassin - Prologue

Prologue

School has ended so all the children are running back to their homes eagerly waiting for their parents to greet them. Siblings were talking to each other, teasing and generally having fun. The playgrounds were crowded with the kids, aging from 5-11. The sun was shining brightly down on them, the sky without a single cloud, the wind blowing softly. It was a good day for most, but one.
 The girl with striking blonde hair whistled to herself as she walked up to the front porch of her house. She waved goodbye to her friends who dropped her off then turned around to knock on the door. The door was surprisingly open; that wasn’t right, it was supposed to be locked. Her parents would never be this careless.  Panic started to edge its way up to her.
Slowly she opened the blue door wider. What she saw was horrific! Blood was everywhere: splattered onto the walls, the wooden floor, and the shoe rack. The white rug on the corridor was saturated with blood, taking on a crimson colour. Her father’s motionless body was lying amidst all of it; the red liquid was oozing out of a wound in his chest.
A lump got stuck in the little girl’s throat while tears blurred her vision. Her father was dead, no murdered by someone but she refused to believe it.
“Father…” she whispered in shock. Her bag fell off her shoulder and dropped to the floor without making a sound. “Father no!” she cried, running to the dead man.
She started shaking and shaking him but he wouldn’t wake.
“Dad…Dad! Daddy come on, wake up please… Please d-don’t leave me father, please.” Tears escaped her eyes and flowed down her cheeks while she cradled her dad’s limp head in her arms. She sobbed for about a few seconds before a loud scream pierced the house. 
The blonde girls head snapped up towards the sound; it came from upstairs. It sounded familiar.  She got up from the floor and rested her father’s head back onto the bloody floor. Wiping her tears she approached the stairs. On her way towards there she grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter in the kitchen. She knew that if she went upstairs she probably would get hurt (she wasn’t stupid, clever in fact) but she didn’t care, she wanted to know whether her mother was alright or not. The wooden floorboards didn’t make a sound as she crept up the stairs. All the rooms were closed apart from one, which was slightly ajar. Noise was heard coming from that very room, meaning that someone was inside.
She peeked inside and froze. Her mother was inside backed up to the far wall, her features into one of fear and a man with a black cloak was in front of her holding a bloody knife. His face couldn’t be seen for the hood covered his features.
“No, no, p-please don’t kill me…I’ll do anything…just please don’t k-kill me.” She begged, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Begging won’t help.” The cloaked man laughed shaking his head. With that he raised the hand with the knife into the air.
“MOM!” The little girl cried, flinging the door open. Her mother’s eyes widened when it landed on her precious daughter.
“Alice, run-” The mother shouted, but the knife sliced her neck silencing her. Blood squirted out, staining everything in its way. New hot tears replaced the old dry ones on the child's face.
The man turned around, giving the girl a creepy evil smile.
“Hello there, little child. Come here, I won’t hurt you.” He said in a voice that people use on scared little beings. He dropped the knife to emphasis his point, but the evil look in his eyes told her that he won’t hesitate to savagely kill her like he did her parents. She hid the kitchen knife behind her school skirt that was soiled with blood and whispered: “you won’t?” She wanted to trick him, to make him think that she fell for his words, so she kept on a scared expression.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The man said smiling wider, thinking the girl fell for it.
She walked further into the room, taking slow shaky steps.
“I won’t hurt you.” He soothed.
“No, you won’t because you’re going to be dead!” She shouted, her face twisting of one of anger and hatred. She charged at the man, taking him by surprise, and stabbed him where his heart rested. She pulled out the blade as he let out a strangled cry, blood gurgling in his mouth. He grabbed the wound trying to stop the blood from spilling out and took steps back. His black combat boots slipped on the slippery blood of the little girl’s mother making him fall onto his back. The girl, who was coated in thick blood jumped on top of him and stabbed him repeatedly again and again and again ‘til his body went limp. Her screams were filling the empty silence.
The sound of sirens wailing could be heard, becoming louder and louder until it completely stopped in front of her house. The neighbours rang the police because they heard screaming coming from that house, they became worried about the family.
The police found the door open with a dead body right in front. They called for more polices and ambulances to come. Once more arrived they started the investigation: checking all rooms, taking pictures and looking for clues about what happened.
They found the little girl in a corner of the room crying, hiccuping and rocking backwards and  forwards.