Lethal Secrets - Part 1

I sat perched at the top of the building, peering through my .50 BMG rifle, sucking on a watermelon lollipop at the same time. I looked through the party, trying to find my targets through the crowd of people. It was said that these four people were planning on going against Inferno. Well think again, dupes.

I found my first target, who was sipping on a glass of champagne, obviously checking out the bodacious breasts of the woman he was talking to. What a sad, sad, man. I hummed a tune as I loaded the gun. I set it to the guy’s head, aiming straight for his brain. What I love the most about this job is the crowd’s terrified screams once they hear the gunshot.

“Oh hello there, beautiful.” I muttered as I rested my finger on the trigger. “Time to say goodnight.” I fired.

First the gunshot, the spray of blood, dead body dropping on the floor. Next, cue the ladies screaming.

With the scatter of the crowd it was easy to find my next target.

Bang, dead.

I found the other guy pushing people out of his way.

Bang, dead.

The next was saying his last minute prayers, like as if it would help his poor soul.

Bang, dead.

After the job was done I packed up my gun. I sensed Scott behind me.

“Did I do well?” I asked him.

“Pretty good. But could you not be so happy about it? It makes it a bit more creepy living with you.” I stood up and smiled.

“You trained me this way, pops.”

“And I’ll never stop regretting it.”

I made it back into my dorm room at Gainsborough Boarding School of the Arts by 3 A.M. Declan, my roommate, was fast asleep, his body a black shapeless lump in his sheets.

By 3:05 AM, I was in my boxers under the comfort of my bedsheets.

It’s been four years since the fire. Four years I’ve been working for Inferno as an assassin (Now, top assassin, thank you very much), and a week since I started school here. Scott has taught me all I need to know about the Inferno, and the Daoine Sidhe, some group of mischievous faeries. It seemed my dad made a deal with them. They agreed to give him fortune if he gave them the human sacrifice when he reached the age of thirteen (Which was me). My dad refused, of course, and the Daoine Sidhe hunted him down (Thus burning down my beloved house).

And now I, seventeen years old now, am an assassin, hunting down those bastard faeries.

I got into this posh music school easy-peasy, my violin skills were too much for them to handle. Declan’s specialty was the glass harmonica, which he was very proud of (I tried explain that no one cared. I really did).

Another perk: Callie was here also. When she plays the clarinet it would make anyone fall in love, trust me.

But I was completely over her, of course.

The slap of a pillow to my head woke me up. I opened my eyes and sat up groggily.

“Are you awake?” Declan asked. Through my still tired eyes, I found him waiting at the door, his backpack already on.

“No, I’m just sitting up and rubbing my eyes in my sleep.” He ignored my sarcasm.

“Just get ready or we’ll be late.” I slid out of bed unwillingly, trying to find a clean set of clothes. Note to self: I think it’s time to do the laundry.

Declan and I skipped breakfast, heading straight to class. If I was late one more time Griffin was going to kill me. Literally.

We entered class a second before the bell. I took my place at the front row, where most of the strings sat. The woodwinds would sit at the second row; brass would be third row, and percussion instruments sat at the fourth row.

Griffin descended into the classroom and leaned at the top of his desk which faced the border of the classroom.

Yes, Scott was my guardian and my English teacher. You might think, ‘well that might be a pain in my ass’ but it wasn’t. Scott and I knew when to pull out our father/son side, and when to shove it back into the cold darkness when school starts. Scott didn’t have any favourites, so I never got any A’s.

“I trust that you all slept well over the busy weekend,” He said. I knew he was secretly talking about my job, because of the low tell-tale pitch in his voice and the way his eyes slid towards me for exactly 1.5 seconds. “Because today, we’re back in full school mode. That means new essays, writing assignments...” The class let out a string of groans. I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms.

“Or, we could just skip all of that. Face it; everyone will surely hate you in the future if you stuff assignment to our necks.” I said. Griffin looked at me, smiling, but his eyes said ‘I wish I was never stuck with you’.

“It’s always a great joy to have you in my class, Cameron. Such a great, great joy.” I knew he was being sarcastic. Griffin was the only teacher I liked in this school. He knew how to play my type of music (No pun intended).

On the whiteboard, Griffin wrote A Midsummer Night's Deam. Telling by the stack of books on his desk, I had a feeling we were to read it.

“What do you think of when you see that title?” He asked the class.

“Shakespeare.” A girl from the fourth row called out. Griffin looked at me.

“Cameron, what about you? Since you love lounging in my class.”

“I think of over-dramatic scenes, guys in tights, and death.” I was awarded with laughter from the class.

“I guess that’s true. So since a number of you are unfamiliar with the story, you will be reading it.” Griffin said as he handed out the books. More groans. “And I do mean reading it. Not going online and searching for the summary.” He eyed our bagpipe guy.

“But how are we going to fit reading into practices and other homework?” Declan whined.

“We have other classes too, you know.” I added.

“Sadly I could care less, and neither will the world when you grow up. Take this as practice, no need to thank me.” I willed my mouth not to say anything. I let my brain cover all the cursing.

After my other five classes I walked out of the building with Declan and a group of people that followed me every day (I didn’t even know half of their names).

Some of them ditched us for their music instructors until it was just Declan and I walking. I listened to Declan yapping about how the school was actually considering banning the only pop brand from vending machines until someone’s elbow pierced me.

“I am so sorry!” A way too familiar voice said.

“It’s okay. I enjoy having my thoracic cage whammed by an elbow.” Callie turned around, smiling as she did.

“I thought I recognized that snarky attitude.” I put my hand on my heart dramatically.

“Ouch.” Declan shrank away, as if feeling left out by our old friends vibe.

“I need to get to practice. See you later.” He said, and before I could debate, he left.

Callie eyed my violin case.

“Going to practice?” I nodded, trying to hide my red cheeks. Okay, maybe I haven’t completely gotten over her.

I nodded to her case.

“I see you’re going to do the exact same.” She rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, I’m not really up for it though. I love playing, but my teacher is horrible. How’s yours?”

“I’ve been granted the permission of not having a critic.”

“Too good to be taught what you already know, eh?” I smiled and shrugged.

“I guess.” A short, plump, woman with thin red hair and round glasses approached us, clapping her hands as she did.

“You can’t keep wasting class time flirting with some...insurgent young man. Come now, we don’t have time to waste.” The old woman took Callie away. Callie looked over her shoulder sympathetically to me, and I just waved her goodbye, muttering ‘you’re mother is insurgent’ under my breath.

I started walking up to my usual practice place, the big green field near the big green forest; my big green escape from everything else. It was on school property, but not. So I guess if I was caught up here I’d be in half the trouble, right?

I took out violin from its slumber and propped it on my shoulder. I took the bow, checking to see if anyone was watching me before starting. I played the musical piece that I usually played when I’m at this place—Bach’s Violin Concerto in A Minor—and closed my eyes, imagining that I was playing for Callie. That’s mostly when my pieces come out the greatest.

Every time I played up here I felt like as if the whole world was watching me, but I always kept going, because I knew there was no one here. No one other than the pair of eyes I always felt from the forest. But still, I ignored (Mostly because I didn’t want to risk pulling out a gun on school hours).

Even though this is how it was every day, this time it felt sickening. I was so diverted by the eyes that I forgot Callie’s face in my head and ended up playing a wrong note. The violin screeched in protest. I brought down my arms and sighed, looking out into the forest.

“Hello? Stalker? It’s okay to come out. I won’t call authorities.” I called. “There’s no use hiding. I totally feel your heavy eyes on me.” There was dead silence. My mind debated on whether to go into the forest or to just go back into the dorm. I packed up my violin and took a step towards the forest. It seemed scarier than usual.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I jumped, my body spinning around. Scott stood right behind me, his arms folded.

“This is off school premises.”

“Oh is it? I’m terribly sorry. I’ll be heading back now.” I gripped the case and began walking the other direction. I felt Scott’s firm hand on my shoulder, yanking me back.

“I think we need to get you a teacher. You know, to stop you from doing other stuff.” I knew what he meant.

“Look, I’ve been ignoring it for a while. Excuse me if I’m just a bit curious to find what’s hiding in there.”

“You might be strong, but they are stronger.”

“They don’t have guns.”

“But they do have the power to rip you limb from limb in your sleep.” He removed his hand, eyeing me. “Tone down your ego. I’ll make arrangements for your instructor.”

“You and I both know I don’t need one.”

“Well, you’re a student here, and all students have instructors. So you’ll be getting one. I’ll call you once it’s set.” I walked away from him.

“Great, can’t wait. Really. I’m so ecstatic it’s hard to contain it."