A/N: Yes I know there's about a ton of other assassin stories out there, but I wanted to try my luck at one and see if I could make it at least semi-different from the others out there. So please bear with me, give me your feedback, ideas, suggestions, flames, it doesn't matter. I just want to make sure it's different from all the other assassin stories out there.

Oh and Kai means 'the ocean' in Japanese…I think. I just thought it would be a cool (and fitting) assassin name instead of Alpha, or Phantom, or a name that sounds like something a Mary sue would be.

K.E. Wilds was a wasteland behind General Grant's National Memorial cemetery. The area was enclosed by a high brick wall topped with razor wire. Two metal gates hung open, and atop a tree in the nearby forest, a figure clad in black could see a shed with a security window and beyond it piles of mulch. Everything of value had been stripped away from the land, and only dead trees, scorched grass, and crumbling stones remained.

There was a guard sitting in the shed, reading a newspaper. In the distance a bulldozer sprang to life, then roared as it made its way over to the pile of mulch next to the pile of stones; lifting up some and dumping it into a large hole a few feet away. A telephone rang somewhere in the shed and the guard bent down to answer it.

The figure made a noise under its breath, seemingly uncaring of the searchlight that passed underneath the tree it was stationed in. The old guard looked up, glanced around, and then continued on his rounds to secure the perimeter. He never noticed the shadow that dropped down behind him, or the gleam of the dagger as it sung through the air, he only felt pain, then a cool darkness that overcame him.

The figure found itself surrounded by dirt and burnt bushes as he carried the body through the thin forest. The smell of smoke was thick in the air and the chatter of the animals was deafening. It watched as a raven swooped down to catch an unsuspecting field mouse; crushing it in its claws and carrying it away to devour it limb by limb.

For a moment the figure sympathized with the mouse, knowing exactly what it felt like to be rendered helpless by a stronger force, but then it shook its head and smirked, knowing it was more like the raven than one would suspect.

It dumped the body in a bush more covered in leaves than the others, and then it bent down and whispered, in a voice more suited for a teenage boy, into the guard's ears. "Don't take it personally." And the figure was off before another breath was taken. The wind whispered its goodbye.

There was a grinding sound, one made when tires rode over gravel, and it was coming from behind the forest near the end of the construction site. He ran farther into the forest, crouching down as another guard passed by. He took care of him, threw him with the other, then waited for a cloud to pass over the moon before running across a small meadow.

The wind picked up and the figures ebony cape fluttered along with the breeze. With the din from the machines, there was no chance anyone would hear him, but he was still cautious for the chance of another guard coming around and seeing him. He slowed into a light jog, steading his breath as he came to the edge of the forest.

There was mansion, built with bricks and small stain glass windows. A chimney was off to the left side of the house, puffing smoke, and a weather vane was stuck on top of the paneled roof. The front door was a deep green, one that matched his eyes, and the door knob was the color of gold. All in all, the mansion wasn't all that great, but the figure personally didn't care.

It was the light from the left window on the third floor that interested him.

The machines stopped for a moment, the engines were dying down and the animal's growls, squeaks, and grumbles were becoming more pronounced. He took a deep breath and strained his ears for any signs of an approaching guard.

It was a branch that saved his position.

It cracked and the sound echoed all around, silencing the noisy beasts for a few seconds. He would have never heard the guards before it was too late. He swung up into the nearest tree, crouching down on a thick branch and melting into the shadows. Two guards passed underneath, conversing to one another in hushed tones.

He figured they were looking for their missing teammates.

Once they passed, he hopped down silently; stealthily creeping behind them. He eased out his duel daggers hidden underneath his shirt sleeves, and as they stopped to glance around the mansions front yard, he went in behind them and together slit their throats with graceful flicks of his wrists.

They fell to the cool ground with soft thuds, but he paid no mind as he dashed to mansion's left side. It was laced with decayed vines that hugged the building with drying embraces, some hanging down while others held fast. He tugged on a thick one, once or twice, before he started climbing with ease known only to a mountain climber.

It was only a matter of time before more guards made their way through the forest and to the clearing. They would see their comrade's bodies, and by then he needed to be finished his job if he wanted to escape with a minimum amount of deaths on his hands.

He grabbed ahold of what was left of the window sill. Ahead of him he could see a faint glow coming from underneath the room's door, disappearing a few times as the man resting inside paced in front of a lamp. He could feel the pull of gravity pulling him down. The vine he was holding onto was slowly ripping away from the wall, and in a matter of seconds, it would pull away completely, sending him and it to the ground promising a painful death.

With all his strength, he surged forward. Hands burst through the delicate glass, and his shoulders helped tug the rest of him in. He tumbled to the dusty wooden floor, performing a clean summersault, and then springing up to dash into the shadows. The man heard him, and his only element was surprise.

He heard the sound of leather being squashed, then footsteps that dragged on the floor. The door to the room swung open, and the man he was here for cautiously came in, glancing around the room like a frightened deer.

Lightning fast, he swept forward, got behind the man, put his doubled edged dagger to the man's throat, and let an arrogant smirk dance across his face. "Long time no see, Mr. Blain."

He felt the man gulp.

"I was wondering where you disappeared to." And he aimed a well-placed kick to the back of Blain's knees. Blain gasped and collapsed forward; his head colliding with the floor. A few dribbles of blood seeped out from a cut made by a piece of glass, and he smirked hearing the man's pain filled yelp.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Blain denied from the floor. His kick must've shattered the man's knee; rendering him unable to clamber up on his fat legs.

Less work for me

"Of course you don't." He supplied and plunged his blade on Blain's spinal cord; twisting it round until he heard a harsh snap sound around the room. The man screamed bloody murder as his spine broke from the pressure and he gripped Blain's neck to cut off any noise.

He flicked his wrist, making a silver blade slide into his gloved hand. It shone in the moonlight peeking through the trashed window. He pressed the edge to the back of Blain's neck, lining it up in the middle, then with smooth precision he jabbed it in and felt the man beneath him slump forward.

He twitched his blades back in place, relishing in the feeling of cool metal against the warm skin of his wrist. He pulled off his gloves and tucked them in his cloaks pocket. He reached into his ebony jeans, pulled out a seashell, and placed it in the man's meaty hand.

"I'm Kai by the way."

He mock waved to the dead man on the floor before hopping out the window and into the nearby trees. Guards were streaming into the front lawn, some shouting orders to the obvious rookies while others searched the surrounding forest.

Not one of them looked up.

He let out an amused chuckle, entertained at the panicking guards that had no idea what to do. They were like beheaded chickens with no purpose in life but to support the head that wasn't there. With a shake of his head, he hopped down from his perch and started jogging towards central park miles away. He had a ride there and he wasn't about to run all the way to his safe house.

OOooOO

The leader of VIPER, a mafia group that terrorized the streets of Manhattan after dark, stared impassively at the figure of his right hand man on the floor. A puddle of blood surrounded Blain, soaking his Italian suit and seeping into the mansion's floorboards.

The man couldn't help but smirk.

"You had it coming, Blain. Should've learned to keep your mouth shut before it was too late."

He tossed the shell he held in his calloused palm, and watched as it landed on the floor. The innocent cream color of the stunning shell disgusted him. "You're good Kid, but you don't stand a chance."

He motioned for his personal guards to follow him, and he exited the room.

"I will kill you, Kai. And I will enjoy it."

So, good, bad, any grammar mistakes? Please tell me, I want this story to be the best it can be. Oh and if I get enough reviews, I'll post the second chapter in hopefully a few days.

Catch ya later,

-Time'sLonelyWanderer