Xina's Short Story: Assassins

Everything had began magnificently the day I attended the renaissance fair. It was the first time I’d ever been to any festival of the sort, and the air was full of magic. At exactly 10:30 in the morning, the ceremony began. The King and Queen presented themselves atop the castle’s balcony to address their people. As the beautiful royals welcomed us into their kingdom, my heart beat erratically, and I crossed the threshold with my breath held. There were so many events that I wanted to see, and activities I wanted to try; I couldn’t wait to get inside. I wasn’t just an ordinary guest, however, I had a job to do. Carrying my instrument lightly with one hand, dressed as a princess and feeling important, I walked proudly through the bustling

“I heard what you said, fool. Wherever this assassin is, I want you and an army of twenty other guards to hunt him down. Do whatever you can.” Her voice was not delicate anymore, as anger rose from her.

"I do not love you." Enzo said so softly that he knew she had not heard, because he said this as he dressed after waking up in her bed, and if it was possible to hate himself more than he already did then he felt it. And then, after a very slow moment he realized he had not said it at all. The assassin's fingers crept to his lips and passed gently over Adora's carefully stitching in gold thread. He couldn't even tell real silence from his own thoughts anymore. He felt it with every slow beat of his

Stepping out of the bar, he glanced around trying to figure out a plan. Before devising a plan, a dagger rested against his throat. His hands raised in a defensive matter as a nervous smile appeared on his tanned skin.

The remnants of the storm hung heavy in the atmosphere, adding to the gloom of the unlit apartment. Tom sat on the couch, his damaged arms laid out in front of him, the bloody razor still gripped tightly between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at the open window, watching in fascination as a cool breeze ruffled the net curtains, the channel of air rhythmically caving and billowing the fabric in an exotic dance of mesmerizing beauty. The hypnotizing sway reminded him of Salome and her veils, and closing his eyes, he visualized Brigid Bazlen’s portrayal of the voluptuous seductress in King of Kings. For the first time in almost a month he felt a stirring in his groin, and unbuttoning his jeans, his slipped a hand inside

Two neurotic hired assassins, initially ordered to kill each other, unwittingly team up together to expose a corrupt agent, who wants them dead.

She hoped that a bit of poison would help to light up the night, and possibly help loosen up those nerves she, oddly, could never shake around her friend. All it took was a quick tuck of hair behind the ear before bright lights shone outside, inching closer before coming to a halt. Out of excitement, Ariana rushed to the door, waiting for the doorbell, and then waiting an extra or moment or two as to not seem as expectant. Letting out a small breath, she swung open the mahogany door before beaming up to the taller girl, simply joyous to be in her presence once more. She enveloped her tightly, taking a quick second to embrace the all-too familiar scent, before pulling back and grasping her hand. "I'm so glad we could do this!" Ariana exclaimed, pulling Liz inside and kicking the door

All the women dashed away from me, scrambling away. I wonder if they hid in fear or disgust, or perhaps both. One young woman though, she stood there with a brave stance, unwilling to run from me. Features like a goddess, she was the one to stand out from all the women

“Dominic! The roofs!” Finally hearing him, Dominic turned and looked up, his jaw tensing. You could see a curse cut through his lips as he waved Mickey forward. The smell in the air was a perfect mix between greasy foods and ocean waves, and it was almost distracting. Mickey’s tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he ran, and he could taste the saltwater, almost as well as he could taste iron. A scream pierced the atmosphere, and the loud contact of body weight hitting ground almost echoed down the pier. Mickey looked back once more, watching as a group of assassins rolled forward, the pier lamps and neon lights reflecting on their al leather attire. Suddenly the heaviness of the pistol in Mickey’s hip-belt became aware to him again, but as he reached down to grab it, he felt a hand hold his wrist. He turned with a closed fist, only to have a larger hand cover it and stop it in its place. “We have to get out of here. We can’t make too much of a scene.” Mickey gave a solid nod, swallowing hard, and then started off after Dominic down the pier again. They eventually reached the end of the pier, where Dominic and Mickey turned around,

After a solid minute of the three of them staring at her, the fire died and the aura of danger fell from the room. “Good girl, Onyx, take the muzzle off of her please.” The king ordered, flicking a hand at Onyx. “But Sire…she’s dangerous…” he replied, unsure. The girl hissed quietly at the word “dangerous” and a few sparks flew from her feet. “Just do it Onyx!” King Laurent snapped. Onyx stepped forward cautiously and approached the girl slowly, her body going stiff when his hands came near her. Onyx undid the muzzle and let it fall to the ground with a loud clank, backing away from her as soon as he was able. Harlem could see the fear spelled out on her face now, her small lips quivering. “There she is. Alright my dear, why don’t you tell us where you come from, and your name..?” Laurent asked quietly, taking a half step towards her. She didn’t reply, just shrunk back a bit more, smoke curling from the ends of her hair. Her mouth opened, and at first Harlem thought she was going to say something when all of a sudden a loud screeching filled the air and he fell to the floor, his head cracking painfully against the

Uninvited guests wore their beatific harlequin masks - their false beaming illuminating the darkest of tunnels. Lozenge wall-lights glinted softly like paralyzed fireflies, azure curtains gushed from the roof as though they were remorseless cataracts, and anticipation wafted through the still air; with everything etched in gilt, it was almost imperceptible that anything could go wrong that evening, but it felt almost too saccharine to be true.

Yet Vayu never forgot the presence of the children, staring at them with a soft yet rare look in his eyes. “Now, get these children out of here.”

The woman straightened, brushing her long, dark hair away from her face to reveal a smooth, alabaster complexion and a set of piercing green and gold eyes. She smiled, although the smile never touched her eyes. They remained cold and calculating, like the eyes of a predator. Indeed they were the eyes of a predator; the woman was a Witch, the most talented, and cold-blooded, Witch in the Queendom, second only to Queen Cecily and the Chancellor

The story is done entirely in first person, which allows us to have some kind of access to this assassins way of feeling and thought process as he went about to finish the deal. The reader is also able to sense that the assassin doesn’t particularly like what he has to do to survive but he has to do it so he doesn’t starve or get in trouble with the wrong people. Also the fact that he never truly questioned his employers for the motives behind the jobs he performed show some kind of neutrality in his nature and how the man just wants to be able to care for himself. In the end we see that he also has developed overtime in his profession a kind of respect for life by placing flowers on the victim's grave and says that his name is there with

Kendra nodded not trusting herself to speak. She was still wearing the ring hoping the Vance would come to his senses. She didn’t really know the situation. “Things are just a bit hectic.”