I stand with my feet planted on the roof shingles, looking down on the street’s depressing conditions. My hood is pulled low to conceal my face, regardless of the night mist’s fine job of veiling me from the people below. No one bothers to question what could lie within the mist above their heads, leaving them unaware of the lone figure that looms high over them. With the tangy smell that coats the air in every street and alley, it is no wonder why most seem to have a lack of interest in anything but being situated in one spot. Every person displays an uncomfortable aura, ranging from subtle indications to obvious expressions. As I continue looking around, the shared aura among the people starts to rub off on me. The miserable feeling prods me to turn and leave. As I was about to do so, my eyes stop on one person. I squint to identify the individual, despite the absence of any sunlight.
He stands with a different purpose than those around him, and his face hides underneath his hood. Even so, his efforts to remain unnoticeable are what sets him apart. His physical appearance may be normal through a passerby’s eyes, but through mine, he is nothing more than a deadly assassin. Little did he know, another assassin was hunting him.
My hands itch to shoot an arrow in between his eyes with the bow on my back. The short blade hidden in my clothing prompts me to slice it through his neck. I consider the actions, but push the thoughts away. Information would have to come first. The bloodlust would be the finale.
As if sensing malicious thoughts, he scans his surroundings for a bit, before smoothly disappearing into the shadows that decorate every corner and narrow space. My weapons seem to grow heavier, mimicking the heavy weight of my regret. However, the feelings stay brief. I will have to worry about gutting him later. My attention moves to the spot he abandoned, which left no indication that he had been there.
Why was he here of all places? His is very skilled at hiding. I had been on his trail for mere moments before he disappeared, leaving me with the next few weeks struggling to locate his whereabouts. Spotting him a today was sheer luck, for I had just been preparing to find a place to sleep. I remember him suspiciously looking around.
Was he looking for someone? His next victim perhaps. Whoever he is targeting surely will not receive a pleasant surprise, but their death will not matter to me. I am only concerned with the information the assassin holds and his blood on the walls.
The mist starts to softly flow away, telling me to start moving. I look down for a last time, assessing the shadows the assassin disappeared into. He had gone into what looks like an alley; it was the darkest one where no one stood by, and people who walk past seem to quicken their feet. They probably feared alleys due to a common children’s tale: The Monster in the Alley. The story tells of a monster which stretches out its arms and pulls mortal lives into the never ending blackness. Mothers tell their sons and daughters that unlucky victims would not know what had struck them, until they find themselves ten seconds from death. I do not believe the preposterous story. I cannot care less about anything that remains unseen in alleys where even light would get swallowed. In fact, I am just about to plunge into that kind of darkness myself.
I silently run across the roof, trying to keep up the mist that threatens to move away and reveal my location. In a catlike motion, my feet launch from the ledge of the roof to the one across the open space. I grunt as my legs absorb the impact, but pick up the pace. The wind seems to not only flow around me, but through me. My mind starts to process time faster, causing the running and jumping to pass by in seconds.
I end up stopping after jumping on and off three roofs, which explained why the trip seemed to take a short time. I arrive at a spot where less people were loitering below, holding a low chance of someone spotting me. If someone did, their intestines would decorate the street. Luckily, the night is slowly falling. The lanterns’ light below will not be able to reach me from here.
I walk to the ledge of the current roof I was on yet again, but peer down instead of leaping into the night. I spot a window with its shutters opening out into the chilly air, and a candle’s glow weakly flickering. I sit down with my legs dangling against the wall. After a few quick breaths, I grasp the edge and swing into the room. No one was in the inside, but the small thud was a little too loud for comfort. I silently creep through the house, navigating through doors and stairs. Oddly, no one was inside the house.
Eventually, I reach the front door, opening it and stepping outside. No person seemed to find anything unordinary. Casually, I merge into the people, sauntering like I had no care in the world. The dark alley comes into view and I move a little faster, with my sauntering shifting into a rushed walk. I got closer and closer. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, halting me.
I turn around to meet a pair of unnaturally yellow eyes, staring into the depths of my soul. In his left hand, a dagger was held. I unintentionally brace myself as it pierces into the skin of my neck. (To be continued….)
