Fiction logo

League of Assassins

Part 1-1: On the Run

By Devin Published 5 months ago 9 min read
Like
League of Assassins
Photo by Irham Setyaki on Unsplash

It's a stormy night. The traffic in this part of town is light. There isn't many people out tonight, which is common. I'm sitting at the bus stop, watching the cars and people go by. The rain coming down hard makes this night peaceful. It would be more peaceful if I wasn't on a job tonight. What I've noticed recently is that contracts are more of a nuisance when it's more people during the day, or night depending on when you get your contract. At least that's how it seems for me. I check my phone for the time. 9:45 is what it says. I get a text from an unknown number. "Koffi Bean in 5" is what it read. I get up from the bus stop bench and make my way to the destination.

My line of work is sometimes mistaken for a murder for hire. An assassin is kind of similar to that but have huge differences. Murder for hires have the liberty to kill however they want. Assassins have to be inconspicuous when we kill. We can kill in any way as long as we're quiet about it. Also, we're an organization.

I get to the coffee shop in 5 minutes exact. Koffi Bean is a smallish place that sits in between 2 popular restaurants and the only coffee shop I know that stays open until midnight. But it's one of many places where you wouldn't stand out, making it easy to meet up with contacts.

I enter the coffee shop. I scope out the place for a second. The barista just served the one customer in the back with 2 coffees and 2 muffins. From a distance, I check out the guy's appearance. He's wearing a trench coat and a fedora pointing downward, covering up his face. This must be the contact. I make my way toward the back and sit down in front of him. I thank him for the coffee.

"Very prompt. I like that." he says.

He pulls out a folder and puts it in front of me on the table.

"Everything you need to know is in there!" he says.

I give him a nod, then open up the folder. My target is a 37-year-old man. He has an 11-year-old daughter and a 20-year-old son. His wife filed for divorce 3 years ago, but it hasn't been finalized. Kinda strange, but I'm not thinking much of it. The files also have a few other details that aren't important to me, but I still carefully look through it.

"Anything else I should know that the documents don't say?" I ask.

"Yes actually! I sent you the location of where he stays. He's heading towards a motel a few minutes away from here between 10:45 and 11:30. Kill him and the other person and I'll double it." he explains.

"Any personal requests?" I asked.

"Send a video of him pleading for his life!" he answers.

I give him a nod. I stand up from the table and place 20 sogg down in front of the guy's mug.

"It's for the coffee. Keep it." I said.

I head out of the coffee shop and into the rain. It's raining heavier than when I entered the shop. I put on my hood and then checked my phone. The time read 10:00. I checked the message I received from the contact for the location of the target. "Logwood dr." is what it read. It's just a few minutes in the opposite direction of the motel. I started heading towards the location. I have a lot of questions about the whole ordeal. Like, I find it very odd that the divorce hasn't been finalized yet. What's even more strange is that the documents stated that he's really close friends with a teenager. It's natural to think that he's some kind of predator or something like that, through a parent's perspective. Me personally, I'm just trying to kill someone. Predator or not, a kill is a kill. So, even if I did feel some type if way about it, I can't allow how I feel personally get in the way of work. He's dead either way.

I start closing in on the destination. The destination led to a small single house outside from a gated community. Already, I have a lot of questions, but those questions aren't important. I put my mask over my face and took a few deep breaths. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and opened them, putting myself in spectral form. I crept around the outside of the house, searching for the target. So far, nothing. I entered the house through the kitchen, phasing through the back door. I scope out the kitchen for a second. There's a half-made sandwich on the counter, along with a butter knife and a glass of ice. I start moving towards the living room to check upstairs. I attach my hidden camera to my cloak and head upstairs. As I reached the top of the stairs, I'd noticed that all of the lights were on. I started looking around upstairs. My nose is hit with a very strong fragrance shortly after reaching the upstairs. I head into the closest bedroom, nothing. I go into the furthest bedroom to look for him. The very first noticeable thing was the piles of condoms he has on the bed. I ignore the condom mess and begin looking around in the room. There's a lot of posters on the wall. Black Sabbath, Killer Mike, Jimmy Hendricks, and a bunch of other posters of musical artists covering the wall. I hear footsteps going down the stairs. That's the target. Perfect. I slowly make my way toward the stairs, following behind him.

I arrive downstairs, shortly after he did. He heads in the kitchen, and I stay back in the living room. I turn on the hidden camera that's on my cloak, then crack my knuckles. I slowly walk into the kitchen. I take out my blade to prick my left finger and sheath it back. He's finishing up the sandwich he started. With my bloody finger, I touched the top of his back, revealing myself in the process.

Internal Chaos, the worse way to die. Being touched by my blood causes all eternal organs to decay, starting with the stomach and eventually, the lungs will fill up with blood. All of this happens in a 2-minute span, and technically, you're already dead. For some reason, I strike fear into my targets and it's an added affect. Let's say that someone wasn't scared; they'd feel their organs dying out, begging it to be over. Now let's add fear, they don't know what's happening. They're too scared to realize that they're dying. Now if I were to touch the forehead, then they'd die instantly. But I don't do that because I like for my victims to suffer.

He turns around immediately after I touch him.

"Fuck! Who the hell are you?" he asks.

I stayed silent.

His eyes never looked away from mine. He reaches behind himself, trying to grab the knife. I watch as he's struggling for the knife, finally grabbing it and forcing it through my chest. I didn't flinch at all because it happens a lot. I pull the knife out of my chest with ease and toss it back at him. His eyes grew wider. He started sliding away from the counter, making his way towards the back door and then to the other side of the kitchen. I stood in place just watching him.

"Look man! I don't have nothing! Please don't kill me!" he pleads.

I crept closer towards him.

"I mean it man! I'm bled dry!" he says.

He continues pleading and explaining why I should spare him. The guy goes on a complete rant on his life. And then he starts talking about his divorce.

"Listen man, I didn't touch that kid! I swear! My bitch of an ex-wife made these claims!" he says.

I continue to listen to him. He explains that his wife wanted to be out of the marriage so bad that she accused him of cheating, but he wasn't. When he found out that she was in fact doing the cheating, she started making false allegations that he was sleeping with a minor. Allegedly, she hired someone to pose as a teenager to help her case. The guy served time and had to register as a sex offender, supposedly ruining his life.

I just give a nod. Whether or not he's telling the truth, I don't really care. I don't get into people's affairs, especially contracts. Money is money.

"You gotta believe me! I-" he stopped.

Shortly after, he started coughing up blood, and blood started leaking from his nose. He lied there in shock while holding his chest, wondering what's happening. His coughing kept going and more blood came out with each cough. I walked closer to him and knelt down, getting a closer look at him for the camera. I could easily help him; stop the recording where it's at now, stop the effects he's experiencing and drop him off at the hospital. I'd basically fake his death and get him away from his current debacle and into a better life. The only problem is there are too many things to put into factor and that's if he's lying. And as I said before, money is money.

A few seconds went by, and he went completely limp, landing face first in his own blood. I turned off the camera and then flipped him over on his back. A normal person would say that this is a horrific sight to see. Me, I find quite amusing. His eyes are wide open with blood on his face, and blood is still coming out of his nose. This is the first time a victim of mine died with his eyes open, and I'm kinda proud of this. I placed a black card with my faction's sigil on it, indicating that it was done by me, a high-ranking assassin.

I exit the house and enter the outside rain. I set down a flair that emits a blue smoke for the cleanup crew. The cleanup crew normally comes 5 minutes after a flair is placed. I don't know the method they use to get rid of the bodies but they're quick. I send the video to the contact before leaving the area. I start making my way toward the same bus stop I started at. I receive a text message from the contact. "Perfect! The money is getting wired to your account now!" is what he sent. I just reply with a thumbs up emoji and keep walking.

Young AdultSeries
Like

About the Creator

Devin

Hey! My name is Devin. I'm 22 years old. I like writing realistic fiction, fantasy fiction, and fiction genre all in the first person perspective so my work will mostly be that. hope you guys like my content!! :)

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.