Young Writers Society

“I’m not sleeping in another cave tonight,” Selene said.

“What’s the matter?” Michel sarcastically asked. “Afraid of getting your skin a bit dirty?”

“Oh, will you two please stop?” Bishop, the oldest of the three assassins asked. “Or else, I've got my two newest targets right here. Plagh!”

“I can’t do this!” Selene screeched. “I can’t live like this!”

This, unfortunately was what became of the lives of the three assassins. Three weeks earlier, they defied the leader of their organization when they benevolently refused to kill a child. Refusing a kill in an assassin’s line of work was considered the ultimate sin, an evil only repented by the death of the assassin.

“It’s not like I want to live in exile either,” Michel said. “Being hunted down by our coworkers. Not much of a way to live.”

***

Venus looked off her balcony to the most gorgeous night view; the sky a beautiful tint of purple, the full moon glowing vivaciously in the distance. “I hope our three friends are enjoying the night sky tonight,” she told Cale, her timid long-time lackey. “They won’t see any more.”

“Did you send Daisel after them?” he asked, so short that Venus had to look down at him to catch his sparkly gaze.

“Now, why would you ask that?” Venus said, shaking her head. “Are you questioning my authority as leader of the White Mask Society? The most ferocious and feared group of assassins in the world, that I happen to run?”

“N-no! I just wanted to know if you were sending him after the three! After all, it’s been three weeks and you haven-”

“Silence!” Venus yelled, lifting her pistol from her side, gripping it tightly as she pointed it towards Cale. “Step back. I don’t want your blood all over my nightgown.”

“Yes, boss,” Cale said. He made it four steps backwards before Venus pulled the trigger, her trusted lackey’s blood and brains exploding out into the night sky.

***

Selene sighed as her eyes watered at the sight of her locket, the picture of an adorable five-year-old in the center. “Oh yeah, Jeremy,” Michel said, hunched up close to her by the makeshift fire deep within the cave. “We’ll let you see your son again. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, but I doubt it,” Selene said, slamming the locket shut. “They’ll probably just kill him. Or threaten him to lure me back home. But if he doesn’t get him, guess who gets custody?”

“Your ex-boyfriend you always talk about?” Bishop asked. “I thought he kicked the bucket ages ago.”

Selene shook her head. “Nope. He’s alive. And I’m sure he’s already got Jeremy. Probably wasting no time smacking him around in one of his drunken rampages. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but it seems like in regards to Jeremy, he was gonna be the one thing I never screwed up. He was gonna be the one thing that turned out ok. It seems like that’s just a fairytale now.”

***

Daisel looked off the cliffside and smirked, his long black hair fluttering in the cold Sanguinem winds. Selene, he said to himself. So beautiful. Such beauty can never be replaced. Those are the greatest kills. I can wait no longer to feel your blood drip from my fingernails.

He pulled a rope from his waistband and tossed it down the cliffside, before latching on and swiftly sliding down. A small dog appeared as he retracted his rope, curiously panting in front of the tall, pale figure.

Daisel quickly readied his assault rifle and fired it at the beagle, the dog dying with a whimper as the assassin smiled.

***

“Who do you think they’ll send after us?” Michel asked, stretching his arms out in front of the fire.

“My guess is Daisel,” Selene said, lying on the cold ground with her eyes lightly shut. “What fun it’ll be to see that psychopath again.”

“Hah! I was probably going to kill him myself if we hadn’t gone in hiding!” Bishop boasted.

“He is good at what he does, though,” Selene said. “We should best stay alert.”

“So, tell me, old Ironman,” Michel said. “Is that story true? About you and your grandson?”

Bishop winced, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes before enjoying a slow, calm exhale. “Well if its story time, then yes. I killed my own grandson. And it’s the biggest regret I’ve ever had.”

“Guess it is story time,” Selene said, her eyes popping open. “Come on old man, what happened all those years ago?”

“You know how I got the name Old Ironman, right?” Bishop asked, scratching his long white beard. “Old Ironman. Never lost a kill. That was my legacy. In my younger age, it was my obsession. To be remembered. To be revered by all assassins to come. That’s when it happened. That’s when she happened.”

“Venus’s mother,” Michel and Selene said in unison.

“That’s right. The old boss. The one that used to be my boss. She ordered me to kill my own grandson. A test of some sort. To see if I wasn’t soft. To see if I’d do it. And I did. I killed my twenty-year-old grandson in exchange for preserving my legacy. What a fool I was. And what I wouldn’t do to get him back.”

***

Old Ironman, Daisel said to himself. They say when you hear he drew your name, best already dialed the funeral home. Hmph.

Wandering through the forest, Daisel drew his katana and swung it against the bark of a tree. The old oak tree crumbled with a loud crash that echoed throughout the entirety of Sanguinem.

A shriveled up old man, obsessed with his legacy. He makes me sick. And soon he dies.

***

“You know what’s funny?” Selene asked, turning her head towards Michel who was relaxing with his eyes shut, his arms crossed behind his head. “I’ve been trying to think lately when the last time Michel actually killed anyone was. Ever since we became partners, I don’t think you have. I don’t remember you ever killing anyone, Michel.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Michel said, quickly sitting up straight. “I’ve killed plenty of people before.”

“No you haven’t!” Selene yelled. “I bet you’ve never killed anyone? Have you? You’ve always made us do the killing!”

“Alright! Alright! Fine!” Michel said. “What does it matter now? N-no. I’ve never killed anyone before. Alright?”

“Who the what now?” Bishop asked. “How did you pass initiation? How did you even become an assassin if you’ve never killed anyone?”

“My father was an assassin before me,” Michel said. “And his father before him. They made me uphold the tradition, but killing has always disgusted me. So I’d come up with ways to avoid murder. Getting you guys to do it. Getting my father to do it. Getting my friends to do it for me. Getting anyone to kill except for me.”

The three assassins paused and shared deep, painful sighs. “So what about you, Selene?” Michel asked. “How did you become an assassin?”

“A mama has to pay the bills somehow,” Selene said with a shrug. “I’ve never been good at much else. Had to drop out of school at thirteen to help my parents work at the farm. Then it got destroyed in a wildfire, so I had to find something else to do. Bishop was an acquaintance of my dad, and taught me everything I know. How about you Bishop?”

“Can’t remember. Too old,” Bishop said.

“Come on now,” Michel said. “You have to remember.”

“Is anyone going to pay attention to that loud noise earlier?” Selene asked. “I’ve been thinking about it and I’m not sure. Maybe it isn’t safe to stay here.”

“You’re right,” a man said in a horrifying, maliciously baritone voice. “It wasn’t safe to stay here.”

Footsteps. Stomping footsteps, and out of the darkness appeared a tall man in a long black trench coat, his skin as pale as snow. He held a midnight black pistol in his right hand, grinning ear-to-ear as he pointed it towards the assassins.

“Don’t shoot, Daisel,” Bishop said, as the trio rose to their feet, drawing their own pistols from their waistbands. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Am I? Am I really outnumbered?” Daisel calmly asked. “Just look amongst yourselves.”

“Ngh!” Michel grunted, nervously firing his pistol once. A small silver bullet flew through the air, landing safely in Daisel’s palms.

The pale assassin smiled as he waved the bullet in his fingers. “I guess you’re still new the White Mask Society, Michel? You don’t really know just who I am, do you?”

Suddenly, a thunderous rumbling sound went off as blood spewed from Daisel’s entire body, splattering all over the cave as he fell to the ground with a thud.

To be continued...

Edits:

10/4/15: various changes thanks to help from GryphonInfante