Ok. This is something that came to one day. I'm not too sure how everything is going to turn out. Also, I'm trying a different style of writing, so please criticize to your heart's content. This is also a bit angstly, at the moment, and I've never really written for that genre before so kinda nervous on that.
Anywho, this is just a prologue (short I know ) and hopefully I'll be able to get more going here soon, I just wanted to throw this out there and see what ya'll thought.; Quick warning though, this is a little graphic so if you can't really handle that kind of thing, maybe you shouldn't read it.
Blood: Prologue
The sky. Why does it stand for freedom? Why is the sky the limit? What is beyond the limit? What is beyond this shell we call life? Nothing or everything? Is there something more then our own pitiful existence here on this barren ground? Do the stars laugh at our attempts to reach them? Do they mock us each time we fail, or do they admire our courage to keep trying? Can one reach the sky? If they do, does it mean he or she is free, or simply dead? Does it matter?
The evening sun washed over the dark mansion, casting it in a blood red glow. The manor looked evil from not only the sunset's glow, but also from the malevolent aura surrounding it. One could not see the aura, but the wickedness from the manor came off it in waves. The wicked pyres at the top only added to this, as the flags atop them fluttered in the wind.
As she stretched her hands above her head towards the evening sky, viewing the varying shades of pink, red and purple through her fingers, her thoughts turned wistful. They were full of the wishes of a person bound to the ground, always shrouded in the shadows.
That was her life. The shadows were her life. She breathed them, lived them, at times even considering them her sole companions in this wretched way of life. Lowering her arms so they were horizontal with the ground below, the young woman rose up on her toes, balancing precariously on the guardrail of the balcony. Her job was the man inside the mansion of whose balcony she rested.
The wind roared past the balcony, causing her clothes to billow silently around her. Black gauzy material rested lightly on her body in the form of a sleeveless shirt, cut just above the midriff, and a long skirt, split on the sides up to her mid thigh, barely showing the tight shorts she wore underneath. Her ebony hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, so as to keep it out of her face, but still traces of it flew out around her head as a gust blew past. The wind vane just above her on the roof squeaked as it moved around on its pedestal.
Azure eyes slowly closed as she allowed her body to sway with the wind. A peaceful calm settled over as the wind died. The silence would have been deafening for anyone else, for her it was the only comfort she could grasp at. Her thoughts turned inward as she steadied her self on the rail.
This is what you are meant to do. This is your life's purpose, nothing more, nothing less. You know the consequences of your actions, but you also know what will happen if you do not. This is your purpose. Do it now.
Her eyes shot open as a straight-line raged past her, pushing her body off the guardrail. Time slowed as she fell, a sense of peace settling over her. For an instant her body arched gracefully like that of an Olympic diver as she dove into the clear pool, the filmy cloth rippling around her. Flipping over at the last moment, the young woman landed gracefully on her feet right in front of the main door. Men shouted as she rose with fluid grace from her landing crouch.
Guards ran at her with spears and swords, bent on her immediate disposal. Smiling slightly, the young woman easily disposed of the men, tossing them to the side as she made her way to the front door. Every guard she came upon fought valiantly for their master. It saddened her, even as she threw one against a wall, that none of them knew the truth about their master or how much danger they were actually in.
Coming to the study, she threw open the doors, effectively knocking down the guards who had stood behind them. The master of the house turned from where he stood gazing into the flames of the hearth behind a large oak desk. He smirked as he saw her, his eyes roving over her attire before coming back up to her face.
"Do you really think this is going to help you? That by getting rid of me, you will stop him?"
She said nothing as she pulled the long blade from its case on her side, its edge curved in a cruel crescent. Flipping it nonchalantly in her hand, she made her way around the desk until she stood directly in front of him. He never moved from his spot, he knew escape was impossible. She never let one escape.
Her thoughts became darker as she stared at him. He was fairly handsome, with his jet black hair and smoky gray eyes. He even looked to be a nice man, his face so deceiving. The truth of the matter though, was that it was all a deception. He was her enemy. The man she absolutely despised, and yet….he was just a puppet, a mere replica of the real man. He wasn't the one she truly sought.
Bringing the sharp blade up to level with her waist she plunged it deep into his liver, slicing easily trough the soft, human flesh. Feeling the pull as his organs resisted against the foreign object and the slight nicks on the blade, she tugged a little harder until she made a cut from his liver to the other side of his stomach and up a little, effectively spilling part of his intestines onto the lovely blue carpet underneath her bare feet. Hot blood poured over her hand, at once becoming sticky from the cool air. She watched as pain contorted his face. He let out a laugh, splattering blood onto her face and neck.
"Fool." Was all he could gurgle, as blood poured into his lungs.
Letting him slide to the ground, the female assassin wiped her blade off on his shirt. Without a word or a backward glance, she left the mansion the way she came.
Someone had asked her once why she always went in through the front door. Was it not, for her profession, easier to sneak in? She had smiled at this, and then replied:
"Courtesy. It is courteous to go through the front door. It lets the person know you are coming to kill him."
I know I don't mention any names. I had considered putting in a name or too, but I didn't know if that would help it or harm it. I think I was in a weird mood when I wrote this...