Stephen crouched low in the corner of the room, all his weight resting on the balls of his feet. He could rise at any moment, without making a sound. As he heard footsteps and quite, flirtatious voices coming up the spiral staircase of the castle, he used his magic to bathe him in shadow, so very close to invisible, the two wouldn’t notice him at all. Even if they did, it would be far too late.
The footsteps came closer, within feet of the heavy oak door. Then the bronze door handle turned slowly, but stopped. Stephen heard laughing from outside, then the footsteps became fainter as the couple walked back down the stone steps.
“Just my luck, just my luck,” Stephen breathed as he removed the shadows from him.
He stood slowly and moved to the only window in the room without making a sound. Stephen picked the simple lock as he had picked all the others, and threw the window open.
Cool night air swept through the room, refreshing him. He jumped onto the window sill and looked out at the city. There was a definite difference between the good side of town and the bad side. One side held the generally “nice” houses, with few people out this late. Those that did were wearing the rich silks and other fine clothes.
On the bad side of the city there were many people out, even this close to the witching hour. Almost all of them were wearing nothing, rags, or very close to it. Even from this height, he could see the thieves and murderers hiding in the dark corners, but very few hid skillfully. At a longer, more extensive scan of the city he could see a few like himself, Assassins.
Though they were adept at anonymity, if he looked closely there were a few faults. Their gait was different, slightly more graceful, almost feline. And they had none of the fear that all of the others had. To the average person, the weren't different at all.
After he was done he checked and rechecked his sword- a large, steel hand-and-a-half blade that was in pristine condition, polished and sharpened to a perfect point and edge. Since it was the last thing many people saw, it might as well look good. The knives strapped to his wrists where simple, with no etchings or other distinguishing markings. He unstrapped the lock picks from his leg and stowed them in an inside pocket of his black cloak.
The tools are that of an assassin. And he is an assassin, probably the best in the city, possibly the best in the world.
‘Maybe someday Ill get a chance to test that theory,’ Stephen thought, then he smiled. He always loved a challenge.
He took another long look around the room, then down at the dark city streets below. With a sudden twist he jumped over the edge of the window sill, his black cloak trailing behind him as he spiraled down to the ground.
Shortly before landing, Stephen wrapped his feet and knees in magic, but it still hurt when he landed, bruising his feet. But without the magic, his legs would have shattered on impact, leaving him crippled forever.
He glanced around him, looking for any witnesses to his fall. There were none, of which he was glad. He hated to kill innocents.
He still had several moments before the two infatuated lovers made their way to the castle gate, so he climbed onto the roof of a nearby house, watching and waiting for the two.
When they finally did emerge, they were holding hands and laughing about some joke between the two of them. They looked around, as if confused as to where to go. That was good. The more uncertain they were, the more likely it was they would make the mistake of wandering into a dark alley somewhere on the bad part of town.
They eventually decided on where to go, and began walking towards the nicer part of town. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, following far enough behind them to evade detection, but close enough to keep good track of them.
When they got to their destination, a half-empty bar, they walked inside the brightly lit building. Stephen did not follow. Instead, he slumped against the wall, pretending to be asleep in the gutter.
At some point during the two or three hours he spent slumped there, some thief decided that Stephen was actually asleep, and therefore a good target to lose my purse. So as Stephen felt the mans hand in his cloak he spun the man around, standing as he did so. The man was thrown back hard enough into the wall to knock him unconscious, but he stubbornly held on to consciousness.
Stephen looked at the thief, who was actually a boy of no more than 16, and he looked surprisingly like Stephen when he was young. Stephen punched the boy in the temple, temporarily knocking him unconscious.
“You stupid, stupid thief,” Stephen murmured to the boy. Wouldn’t he be surprised with a half purse filled with coppers and silvers. It was probably more money than the boy would make in six months doing petty thievery such as this.
He dragged the boy into the doorway of a bakery closed for the night, then resumed his post against the wall. Shortly after he closed his eyes he heard the door of the bar open, and the smell of beer and fine wines wafted out on the cool breeze.
Stephen raised his eyes slightly, and he saw the two young lovers exiting the bar. The male wobbled slightly, and rested his hand on a wall to keep from falling over. Both of them laughed at his drunkenness.
Stephen took advantage of the laughter and risked the small noise of unsheathing the two knives on his wrists and bringing them out into his hands. The couple rounded a corner, and Stephen sprang to his feet, and ran after them silently over the cracked cobblestones.
sorry for the no paragraphs... it had paragraphs on word... lol.
- by Matt the fallen angel |
- | Submitted on 07/15/2009 |
- Title: Into the shadows
- Artist: Matt the fallen angel
- Description: A crappy assassin story, decided to post it for some reason...
- Date: 07/15/2009
- Tags: into shadows assassins
- Report Post
Comments (3 Comments)
- nemo35711 - 07/20/2009
- try to make it interesting... it took forever to get to the point...
- Report As Spam
- Archaic Alacrity - 07/15/2009
- I'm going to kill someone. You also don't seem like you proof read it, because I found myself correcting more than I was reading. That thing had more mistakes than the bloody Apollo 13 launch squad. Make sure you proofread of after you spell check it. Just a complaint about the character, why the ******** is he using a hand and a half sword? What the hell is subtle about that. The knives were a good idea but the sword was just wrong. Overall you get a 2 because I don't believe in 5s
- Report As Spam
- Archaic Alacrity - 07/15/2009
- Not going to blow sunshine up your a** here so if you can't handle a little constructive criticism, stop reading. While the point of the story was clear the journey there was agonizing. Your description, granted, has potential. That potential Was laced down with very redundant chunks of crap and decent sections the bipolarity of it all made my head spin. You have the horrible habit of reusing words. Get in the habit of using a thesaurus because if I had heard the word thief one more time...
- Report As Spam