Peering through the window of a tall, old, building, the assassin focused a sniper rifle at a man seen through a cracked window a few stories below.

-1932 New York City, Fleurette Estate-

The boy stood near centre of the ostentatious French themed room. Accompanied by three other people, he quietly listened to the conversation between a young girl and a grown man. The man was stocky and appeared to be middle aged. He was continuously blotting away the sweat off his face between each stuttered word he spoke. The boy wondered why, in such mild temperatures, the man was sweating to this quantity. He figured it had something to do with the fact that the middle age man was probably about to be killed, but the boy, having no knowledge of the feelings spawn from fear, continued to search for the answer.

"Look, buddy. I don't care if it was ransom money to save your daughter. Your business is your business and ours is ours, and our business right now is the five hundred grand you owe us," Said the young girl calmly to the man.

"b-but that's too much money for this short amount of time," Said the man. His expression became wearier and wearier every second he spent talking to the stubborn girl.

"You should know better than to borrow five hundred grand from the Jovetti family then agree to pay it back in twelve months. If you still can't pay us back by the end of the week, then your life, and everything you own, is mine!" She said with an arrogant smile.

The young girl was named Marielle Fleurette, ten years old. As the last direct descendant from the Fleurette family, she dressed in a flamboyant fashion that blended quite well with the surrounding furnishings. Her dress reached a meter wide, right down to her toes. With frills and bows touching every square foot of her body, you would assume that she was a princess of some sort from 18th century France. Moreover, she had quite the uncommon hair style, with her straight fringe angled diagonally, purposely covering her left eye. Many people would think of her attire as queer, but the boy, and the other young man in the room, was already used to the girls strangeness. The other young man was sitting down behind the cluttered desk Marielle was sitting on. He let out a big yawn along with the words, "bor-ing!"

He turned to the sweating man and said, "Blah, blah, blah. Where's the excitement of this conversation? You know what I want to see? Blood; that beautiful, deep red substance, gushing out and decorating the walls. I love it so." He stood up from behind the desk and walked up to the man. Within an inch of space, separating the two, he said this, "Do you know how incredibly much a man can bleed?" The blonde, young man was called Russ Marino. He was a boss for the Jovetti family. When the man saw the widening smile of Russ, he became hysterical.

"No! Wait! Please!"

Russ smiled to the point where it just became frightening to look at then addressed the boy. "Dominic."

"Sir," Was the only thing the boy said before pulling the trigger of the gun which was held close to the mans sweaty head.

BANG

The boys' given name is Dominic Leblanc. For fifteen years old he looked closer to twelve. He had fair skin, chestnut-coloured hair and was petite and slender. The quiet effeminate boy was known as the Lupara Bianca, or white shotgun; the infamous Fleurette assassin.

The man toppled over like a heavy board, unrecognizable due to the damage afflicted by the gun.

"Pfttt-WahooheeHoHAHeeH!" was heard from Russ as a frantic giggle. Although he was a handsome young man around eighteen, at this moment he looked more like a mental patient. Even the apathetic Dominic could agree that Russ was probably clinically insane.

"Tch. We could have suckered more money out of him." Marielle said, irritated by Russ' spasms of laughter.

"Wahahahahaha- hah…ah…."

"Ah?"

"AHHHHHH!"

"W-what?"

"I forgot Ellie!"

-New York City streets-

"Oh dear... I have to shoot through this hole? I'm going to have to take my chances with the aim," The assassin muttered to no one in particular, while looking through window of the tall building.

"What's that guy trying to accomplish anyways? Killing off their boss like this… I mean this small organization poses no threat against him. Ha. If I ask him he would probably just tell me that it's for the fun of it… that Russ."

-Elsewhere in the streets-

"Hey! Get back here you thieving brat!" An enraged baker screamed down the street at a tall brunette boy.

"Sorry, old man! I'll pay you back, I swear on it, with interest too," Yelled back the boy, who was carrying a loaf of bread under his right arm. His name is Milton Bianchessi, thirteen years old, and on the run from his family and the Jovetti. After he lost sight of the baker he collapsed in an alley, between two buildings, one which was tall, and another with a cracked window.

-New York City streets-

"Alright. Russ said he would drive through the alley around now." The assassin said, glancing quickly at a watch. "Aim…and…FIRE!"

BANG

But the assassin miscalculated, and only managed to shoot the targets hat off. In a frenzied panic, the assassin pulled the trigger once more. The initial target was hit this time, but it wasn't the best decision to shoot twice, as she was quickly spotted by the dead mans allies.

"G-gun shots?" inquired Milton who had the luck to be resting in between the buildings.

Making sure not to be seen, the assassin swiftly jumped down from a window of the building.

"What? Where's Russ?"

BANG

"Damn. Spotted again…" The assassin noted this, and then sprinted off, full speed toward the busy street. The assassin noticed that many people on the street were turning their heads in the direction of the buildings. It was all the commotion from the gun shots.

With his eyes shut tightly, Milton was ducking by a garbage can, evidently frightened by all the gun shots and shattering windows. His eyes shot open as soon as he heard the roar of an engine. When realized there was a huge car coming at him in a narrow alley, he stood up, as a signal to the driver that he was there. The driver didn't care, as he just kept driving full speed. Milton also ran into the busy street.

The assassins' legs were losing feeling from all the running, but were unable to slow down due to the group of enraged men catching up. The streets were busy so the men were having difficulties obtaining the assassin from even a close range. Luckily, that big car pulled up by the exhausted assassin.

"Ellie, get in!"

"R-Russ!" the assassin hastily got into the car, while panting heavily.

"What were you thinking Ellie? If you were killed on the street that would have been a big problem! Moreover, it would have been worse if we went and got those pedestrians killed. Could you imagine the massacre that would happen if they grabbed a car and started shooting at us? It would have been a full-on shoot out and you'd be to blame!" The words which Russ spoke sounded serious but he was wide eyed and obviously excited by all of this. "Oops. Spoke to soon. They DO have a car, and they're chasing us. Perfect!"

"How is that perfect?" screamed the assassin in an exasperated tone.

SCHREECH

Russ had suddenly pulled over.

"Ow! Where are we now?" Said Ellie, surprised from the sudden stop.

"The Andriacchi hide-out."

"We're at the wrong hide out!"

"Shut up, take this, run," said Russ as he threw a hand pistol over to Ellie and kicked her out of the car. He hopped out and grabbed the hand of the very confused assassin. As they ran towards the back door, they could hear another engines approach and then a holler, "Over there! That's the escape car! At the Andriacchis!"

Russ kicked down the old door, walked through the hallway, and pushed open a larger door excitedly. Behind the door was a spacious speakeasy; where you go for your illegal booze.

"BA-BAM! Good after-noon every body!" Russ said, as he began to fire the submachine gun he had hiding under his coat in random directions.

"Russ?" yelled Ellie, in a panic-stricken tone. Screams were heard all around the room.

"And now we run!" Russ said while grabbing Ellie by the waist and pulling her through a large window. Right then the allies of the dead man burst through the door. Confusing them for Russ and Ellie people began to take aim at them, and them taking the Andriacchis for Russ and Ellie, began to shoot.

"No! They're killing each other! It was us we did it!"

"Shh, Ellie," said a very amused Russ

"Why are you trying to turn them against each other? Those families were on good terms before! Are you trying to start a war?"

"Sure am"

"Why?"

"Well… I gotta say… it's probably just for the fun of it!"

-Fleurette Estate-

This madman that I serve under is named Russ Marino. He's one of the bosses of the Jovetti family. He runs the Fleurette family's underground brewery and also organizes the Fleurette assassination business. As an important contributor to the Jovetti, in status, he's relatively close to the super boss, Jones. Although in reality, Jones and Russ can't stand each other. He saved me back when I was living on the streets and for that I owe my life to him.

My name is Ellie Lotte. Fifteen years old. I've been working for Russ since he took me in at twelve years old. I have no living relatives and my parents were murdered five years ago.

Twirling the pistol Russ had given her, she reminisced in her large empty room. With her cap was absent from her head, her long, sleek, light brown hair fell down to her waist. She had long bangs and wore baggy, boyish clothing and without any abstractions near her face, she was a pretty girl with eyes like sapphires. As she was tossing the gun in her hand, a frail looking, fair skinned boy walked in.

"Time for training, Ellie," said the expressionless boy.

"Whoa! Dominic?" startled, she clenched down on the pistol, pulling the trigger.

BAM

"EH? The safety was—oh! D-DOMINIC?"

The boy had managed to dodge the bullet, and then said,

"Practice outside, and not on me." Ellie let out a sigh of relief.

Dominic Leblanc. Believe it or not, he's the same age as me.

They went outside and after Ellie shot a few rounds, Dominic turned to her and said this in the usual monotonous manner; "you know you're supposed to hit the targets?"

"I-I know that! I'm better at fighting with my fists anyways," she took a glance at the boy. The first thing anyone who saw him was to point out would be his large violet eyes. Neither happy nor sad, he gave off the appearance of an innocent child who has not yet been exposed to the harshness of the real world. Ellie always thought that Dominic looked like one of those French porcelain dolls, but she would always turn away in embarrassment when she thought too hard about it.

"Why are you an assassin, Ellie?"

"What?"

"It doesn't seem like you're being forced into it, and yet you hate killing." The boy wasn't meaning to sound doubtful of Ellie, he was simply curious to why people make the actions they make. Dominic hasn't done anything that he wasn't told to do in years, too many years for him to remember. Ellie didn't understand half the things Dominic did, but she knew that he never meant wrong, so she would always reply back honestly.

"Russ made a deal with me. Until he gets his part done, I will continue to work here for him. That and I owe him anyways. Why do you work here?"

"I don't know." Ellie knew he wasn't trying to hide anything, but he actually didn't know. The boy continued working for Russ even though he didn't know why, because he simply didn't care.

"Ellie!" shouted a young orphaned girl in a flowing rococo dress from across the garden they were practicing in.

"Marielle?" questioned Ellie.

"Didn't I tell you not talk to this guy if I'm not around?" as she said this, her bangs were shifted slightly by the wind, and Ellie caught a glimpse of a pirate-like eye patch. Ellie always wondered what happened to Marielles eye, but she refused to give anymore information other than muttering the words "That bastard" and "…because of my brother…"

This girls name is Marielle Fleurette. To anybody outside of the Jovetti family, and one other boy, she is supposedly missing. I met her for the first time two years ago, when I was sent by Russ to eliminate her kidnapper and bring her back to the mansion. Alike to me she says that she's also here in search of revenge.

"Dominic, why does Marielle hate you so much?"

"I don't hate him; I just think he's a bad influence! At any case, he's dangerous, so stay away from him!"

"Sorry Dominic. I'll see you later.

"No you won't!"

"Ha-ha okay"

"You know, Marielle, Russ will be mad id I keep missing practice."

"Russ can rot in hell!"

"…."

After Ellie was back in her room, Marielle mumbled something about having to see a useless idiot and then stormed out of the room.

"What was that about..?"

Marielle made her way down the street in a pompous manner. She was already used to the strange stares, but something else was on her mind; concern for a certain boy, who had just been spotted by Russ earlier today, although she would never admit her worries. Within an hour of her leave, she had already found him.

"Milton. Milton. Milton. WAKE UP YOU USELESS BUM!"

"Eeeee!" the boy awoke with a frenzied expression.

"Do you know how easy it was to find you? If you keep lying around here then Russ will kill you! You know he actually saw you today? Thank god he was preoccupied!"

The easily frightened brunette cowered beneath the little girl dressed primarily in frilly pink bows. Before Milton could even speak, Marielle grabbed him by the collar and rammed a thick envelope into his mouth. "Take this and buy a train tickets back to the Bianchessi in Chicago. Leave as soon as possible and never come back. This will probably be the last time you see me. So good bye." The girl took off.

"Marielle…" the boy opened the envelope.

"I could buy a million train tickets with this."

-At a Party-

It was now eight o'clock as a well-dresses girl and young man step out of a large car.

"Remember, Marielle, I'm Claude Fleurette… and you're Marie, my sweet, loving daughter," Russ said while helping Marielle out of the car.

"It's an insult to my brother for you to call yourself that." Marielle took his hand and clenched it with the hatred she could muster.

"Watch your mouth, doll, or your tongue will be next to go," Russ exclaimed, playfully and not even showing any reaction to Marielles grip.

"I'd like to see you try it, you dirty swine." Marielle sneered." You know the expression, an eye for an eye?

"Hm?" Russ, too, sneered

"Just a warning." And you have no idea how soon I'm taking that eye…

Russ and Marielle stepped through the door to a lurid looking dinner party.

"Mr. Fleurette!" said a wealthy looking man. "How are you, today? Looking as lovely as ever, Mari!" Marielle simply glared back.

"Good afternoon Giambatista, what brings you here?"

"Actually, I came here looking for you," With these words, Giambatista spoke in a lower tone of voice.

"What's the occasion?" Russ replied back.

"I've heard many great things of your assassins." Giambatista hinted. He then handed Russ a picture and a briefcase.

"He took off with fifty grand worth explosives. We'll give you this and 10 first class train tickets to receive the load, and bump him off. He's taking a train to Chicago first thing tomorrow morning."

"Chicago?" Marielle shrieked accidentally.

"Is something wrong, Marie?" Russ asked, with that cocky grin plastered to his face.

"n-nothing" Marielle felt angry just seeing Russ' face, for it was a reminder of her one eye, hidden under her angular fringe; the one which was absent.

-Fleurette Estate-

How Ellie became an assassin, how her story started, and how everyone else's stories began came at various times. Marielle, Dominic, Russ and Milton, all were awakened by the death of a loved one; these children's stories have all individually started. But their story together was just beginning; as the next days' sun will rise, friends turned enemies will all board a train together, and a fight to the death will begin to ensue.