The Curse of Time

An assasin can have a smoothie, thank you very much.

"The trust of an innocent is a liar's most useful tool."

-Stephen King

*****

Blackheart

Talk 'bout frustrating.

Maybe coming 20 minutes earlier than my client was not a good idea.

I tapped on the table in annoyance, which was weird because usually, I am not this impatient. In fact, I find the waiting soothing because what comes after this is never pretty.

It felt comfortable in my hoodie, my own personal space; and the best feeling was putting the hands in my pocket, my hood on and sinking into a deep slumber. When I was crossing the road, a girl kept staring at me so at the end I returned the stare and she averted her eyes. After that, I have been feeling overly self-conscious and creeped out.

I took a sip from my strawberry milkshake and looked at my watch. My client is 5 minutes late. The waitress approached me and asked me whether I want to order anything else. I shook my head.

I saw her.

She wore a simple formal dress, nothing out of the ordinary. She was wearing a black jacket and my eyes observed the small pistol pinned inside. My instincts kicked in, reaching for my own gun and kept it within reach just in case things go haywire.

She walked towards me, greeting with her million-dollar smile-" Sorry for coming late. I had some business to attend to." She sat in front of me, extending her hand," My name is Makayla."

I returned the handshake," Blackheart."

"Let's get to business," she pulled out a picture and kept it on the table.

The photo showed a girl with long hair, having one peculiar strand of hair which was of a lighter shade. She had half full lips and a sharp jawline. Freckles lined her face. On the corner of the picture was her name labelled on it- Alexia Jones.

I think I have seen her.

I looked up at Makayla, wondering what Jones had done to piss her off.

"So how much time do I have?" That's the thing, I never ask them how much they will pay me. It is best in getting on their good side. Doing that enables them to be manipulated. At least, that's what I have learned in a hard way.

"Take as much time as you have."

I raised my eyebrows at her before composing myself, " Okay just let me know the location-"

"No!" She interrupted," I want you to kill her."

Now, that was a surprise. Doesn't she know about my code?

"I am a lytrotis, not an assassin," I declaimed," I can get her to you and let you do whatever the hell you fuc**** want."

"I know it is about your code, you can make someone else do your dirty work," she said calmly.

I fell silent. The thing is that lytrotis have only one code to follow and for me, it is to never kill an innocent. And no, I can't just add a comma and say I can't get anyone involved with my work. But I love doing my work in solo, to not corrupt any person's mind. That is the reason I am famous as Blackheart. I enjoy what I do, but I am still considerate. Or was.

I looked at Alexia's picture and muttered," She is too young..."

"Aren't you young for all of this?' She said eyeing my half-filled glass of milkshake.

I wanted to remove my hood and run my hand through my hair. The idea of killing someone made me... Nauseous. The memories started flooding back and I felt my pulse increasing. I started taping on the table-SOS in morse code. That is my unusual habit. A habit I share with someone else. For now, I have to hide it.

"At least tell me what has she done to piss you off?" I questioned. I looked at the picture again, she might look innocent but you never know, maybe she killed 20 people in a coffee shop or did some other big psychotic work.

"It is not about what she had done, it is about what she is going to do."

"Sorry?" Stop prolonging it.

"She is one of the rebels," her care-free expression darkened. My mouth fell midway-trying to find words and construct them to give her a reply," But-But I thought that the rebels were already under control. The descendants and the reader, weren't they?"

"You are well-versed for a lytrotis," she said raising her eyebrows," And yes you are right. The rebels are in control but unfortunately, we came to know about her today, a few hours ago." I remained silent. "You're probably thinking why don't we just hire a regular assassin or get her in control like the others."

"I don't think you would like to hire a normal assassin," I began meeting her eyes," she is a rebel and assassins are getting easily corrupted nowadays-" her amusement was entertaining I have to say,"- but I am still curious about why don't you just control her."

"It is not that easy. She is stronger than the others, the descendants and the reader might be strong but she has an incredible power to which I am afraid I can't disclose it to you for now," she paused and glanced at the restaurant," We promise you, we will pay as much as you want and I understand if you don't want to deal with us."

I spoke-"I'm in. Really," I kept the glass aside," In fact, it will be a great pleasure for me to work for a person who belongs to the royal court."

She looked shocked-" How did you know that?"

" You guys are the advisors, correction- the maidens I presume, and let me tell you, no offence, no matter how great the queen is, you advisors know what is the threat to the kingdom more than anyone else does." I knew it was forbidden to speak less about the queen or compare her to anyone else, yet I never exactly liked anyone in the royal court-except for the maidens-they seemed to be the most humble and logical to me.

Instead of pulling out the piston and pointing it at my face she said, "Thank you."

I nodded and picked up the photograph-" So, where am I supposed to find Alexia?"

" I don't know if you know about this place- Hemmingdale," she informed.

I sighed. I wished I had amnesia or something.

" I do, actually," I uttered.

"How?" Oh, so she is now interested in my life.

"It's just a place I never wanted to come back," I said waving my hand as if it wasn't a big deal. Little does she know it's a place I dread the most- Home.

*****