Chapter One

The Perfect Murder

17 Jan, 2026

4:18 p.m.

Alyeska Resort, Alaska

The air was crisp. A white powder covered the lands. Crystals of ice formed upon the buildings. Children laughed, as they rode along the powder in a blue rubber tube. A group of teenagers rode down the powdered hill on a long, slender wooden board. Despite the chilling weather that surrounded the citizens of Alaska, they enjoyed themselves, as if it were summer.

They thought it was a normal summer day, a day to relax from the hardships of school. What they didn't know was that this day had been planned. Not just by one, but by many. The two senators of Alaska decided to visit with the youth of their state, so they planned an all day sledding/skiing/snowboarding trip at the Alyeska Resort. They, too, joined in the fun, seeing as they were both skiers.

They took the chairs that led to the top of the mountain, to ride down the entire mountain. As they got off, they ensured their skis were bound tightly to their feet, so as to reduce damages. They hopped off the chairs, and skied down the small hill that was used as a chair ramp. No one else was brave enough to join them that far, so they were all alone. The patrol workers were simply doing their job, making sure all were safe. They then turned to watch the rest of the mountain.

"So, Steven," the first senator asked. "How are you feeling?"

Senator Johnson was a little scared. He had ridden the rest of the mountain, but had never climbed this high. He quickly quelled his fear, an easy task for him. He loved to take risks, so an opportunity such as this was one he could not turn down. "I'm doing great, Kyle. How about you? Scared yet?" He added a little sarcasm, to lighten the mood.

Senator Anderson only laughed. "Are you kidding? You know I ride up here all the time. It was my connection to Alaska that won me Senator, if you recall."

The two gentlemen laughed at this, even though it was true. Senator Anderson had a way of making anything "a hysterical riot!", as he called it. What neither of them knew, what no one expected, was that someone was waiting for this exact moment. He had been planning this entire moment, right up to the laughter. He was waiting for them to be completely oblivious to their surroundings.

He rose from the snow that lay behind the two men, silent as air itself. He wasn't simply rising from the snow, like a normal person would, who was playing a fun game of "hide-and-seek". He was the snow, and was rising to become human form. He solidified, the two senators still oblivious to his presence.

Senator Johnson turned to his skiing partner. "You ready?" he asked.

"Only if you are," replied Senator Anderson. They smiled at each other, as if they had always been friends.

Those smiles slowly faded, and all time seemed to have slowed down, as the senators fell to the snow, daggers through their backs. Daggers that came from a man that was never there. No tracks showed he existed. No snow was ruffled, besides that of the victims. No prints on the daggers, to suggest he committed the crime. Not even a recording of his presence. If any camera were to be watching, all it would have captured would be the senators talking, laughing, and suddenly falling, dead.

He had committed the perfect crime, because he was no more than an Assassin, a race of beings with powers like none before. They blend into their environments, literally. They become the environments, never able to leave the slightest trace possible of their being there. John McAllen was one of them. This was to prove he was worthy to be accepted into the clan known only as the Marked Brotherhood, a clan of Assassins, whose life became a life of silent murders, to all that were no longer allowed to live. His kind.

He flew down the mountains, making sure no one knew he was ever there. Once he was within safe grounds, he returned to his normal form. He then climbed into his car, and drove off. A car that was never seen, never heard, never recognised. Just like him, it didn't exist to the Alyeska residents. As he was driving, his phone rang. He gave his number to only a select few, to pass off as friends. This call was marked as Unknown Number. He knew exactly who it was.

He picked up the phone with his right hand, continuing to drive with his left on the tip of the steering wheel. "I was wondering when I would get this call," he said.

The recieving end was silent for a few seconds, until a dark, failry young age simply replied, "Mission accomplished?"

He instinctively turned his head, to look behind him. No one was there. "Affirmative" was his only response.

"Well done. Sending coordinates to your laptop. Be there one minute early, or don't show up at all."

With that, a black bag suddenly started to play a familiar tune. It was his laptop's Message Alert sounding off. He closed the phone, set it down inside his middle compartment, and reached into the black bag. He pulled out a slim, silver laptop, opened it on the seat, and moved his index finger along the touch pad. On display was his e-mail, with confirmation of a new message.

All that read of the message was this:

CHUGIAK TUNNELS

RIGHT TUNNEL

1:00 P.M.

TOMORROW

and a display of their insignia, a spiral marking that lay upon ever Assassin. It was the only way to tell that one was an Assassin, as they never show their abilities to anyone. They know better. John's was directly below his right shoulder blade. He grazed it with his thumb as he looked upon it on the screen.

He smiled, victorious. Tomorrow, he would join his brothers in what he should have been raised in all his life. He was finally able to come home.