I do not own the story Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters except my OCs (Azrael and Abaddon). This is my first fanfic so hope it works out fine :)
Death and Destruction
The sun was setting, the blood red sky darkened with each minute. The victim screamed desperately as the knife bit into his face, drawing long cuts down his face. The assassin savoured the agonising screams and cruelly admired his bloody work of art. Thankfully the screams were cut short by a whisper of a blade as the a throwing knife lodged itself in his throat. Abaddon looked up from his dead victim in disappointment, he was hoping to torture him for longer. Dislodging the knife, he examined the blade and recognised it immediately: Azrael. He could feel the stare from those freakish eyes on his back and he could feel the rage within himself swell up. In a flash, he threw the knife at the shadow hidden in the shadows. A pale and scarred hand caught it expertly, and Azrael stepped out of the shadows. The eyes of the two assassins locked in a look of pure hatred for a moment before each disappearing into the darkness.
Azrael clenched his fists as the anger within him built up. Abaddon,that arrogant bastard, he had everything in life, part of a well-respected and rich family, well built body and a handsome face that would just make girls swoon. He presumed that Abaddon was a run-away rebel had just became an assassin for the sheer thrill of killing. His sick tortures is going to get himself caught then bring down all the others with him. It didn't really matter, there were only a few left anyways. Most of them just take part in thievery and other petty crime; they considered assassination too dangerous. Luckily no one knew anyone's real names. Abaddon and Azrael were names they had received after becoming assassins. Azrael never knew his real name so the name Azrael stuck; the Angel of Death. Abaddon just left his past completely behind and embraced his new name Abaddon; the Angel of Destruction.
Azrael was a terrifying sight. His right eye was a dark brown, so dark it was like a black orb. On his left eye, he wore an eye patch hiding his left eye which as was bright red, like the colour of blood; a burning ball of fire. He wore an eye patch over his left eye to hide it and his absolute worst feature; his scars. The eye patch only partially covered the long and thin scars which snaked across the left side of his face like veins.
The knife cutting slowly across his skin, sending burning agony down his face. He felt the warm and sticky blood trickling down his face like tears. He felt a hand on his mouth muffling his struggling screams. He heard that maniacal laugh as he helplessly tried to escape the older boy's clutches. Abaddon sneered, waving the knife around "You are pathetically weak, and if you mess with me, I'll finish the rest of the art work which I started..."
If only he was stronger and more skilled, if only he wasn't so helpless then. If they never came to the orphanage, he might actually have a decent life. Taking deep breaths, Azrael composed himself. What's done is done, there is no going back, only forward. He had past the point of no return.
Azrael reread the letter which had completely crumpled in his clenched fists. To the Angel of Death Since the best member of your service is currently unavailable, I am asking you to do the deed. You will be paid greatly with half before and half after. If interested, meet me at the entrance at exactly midnight. I will be dressed in black. Do not let anyone see you. I wouldn't advise you to reject this offer, this may be the last one you receive in a while. Of course, the letter was unsigned, Azrael sighed, the victim will probably turn out to be nobody of any importance and he will be payed a tiny amount which most will go to the leader anyways, regardless, he has to agree. He moved silently through the shadows and let the darkness envelope him as he waited.
At the first chime of midnight, a figure dressed in a black cloak with a hood emerged from the Opera and motioned silently for Azrael to follow. The figure led him to the side of the Opera where much to Azrael's surprise, opened up a secret passage. Following the black silhouette down the secret passage and through a series of twisting passages, Azrael ended up in a small chamber.
"I was told Azrael had two different eye colours, I need proof of identity" commanded the voice from under the hood. It was without a doubt that is was a female speaking and he couldn't help notice the nervousness.
Azrael sighed and removed his hood unwillingly. "If I have to..." he muttered and removed his eye patch and looked straight at the figure with his eyes. He heard the figure give a sharp intake of breath as she gasp at the horrific disfigurement.
"Yep, it's pretty horrible"
The figure composed herself and spoke "As you have shown up, you must be interested in your new target. He is a very important person in the Opera Populaire. He is constantly surrounded by many people and will be hard for you to strike. I'm not underestimating your ability but I'm warning you, your target will be very hard to get."
Azrael rolled his eyes, at his new customer's naivety.
"You also will strike when I say and how I say with no questions asked, his death will be very controversial so I do not want his blood on my hands. It may take some time before the task if complete so I suggest you take a job here at the Opera Populaire to observe his movements. I can make arrangement for you to be a stagehand since there is a few vacant positions since most of them has quit when Joseph Buquet was killed by ..." She trailed off and stopped almost as disturbed by memories.
"By...?" Azrael asked
"Never mind" Although her face was hidden by the hood, her could feel her eyes asking for a reply.
"You obviously haven't dealt with assassins before. We accept no matter what the terms are. We will complete task no matter how long or difficult. We withdraw if we feel we are in danger of death.' Azrael replied. "Who is this target you're speaking off?"
She paused and then spoke in a sad voice "Raoul, the Viscount de Chagny"
"Fine, I'll apply for the stagehand job tomorrow".
With the deal made ,the mysterious woman begin leading him out of the secret chamber. On the way out of the secret passage way, she hesitated then said "I didn't gasp because your disfigurement was horrific, it was because you remind me of someone..." She trailed off again and seemed to be staring into the empty air.
Azrael just nodded in confusion and left promptly. Replacing his eyepatch and hood, he disappeared into the night.
Yay! Finished my first chapter of my first fanfic. Please review!