Chapter 1. Unwilling Assassins
The new assassin entered the office in a greacefull and dignified manner befitting his status. He sat down in the lonely chair in front of Tylon's desk while Vark closed the door and stood beside it, waiting for orders. Manilla folders were piled to one side of the desk, the files of information on the assassin's victims. One single folder rested alone in the middle, underneath the Van's fingers. He put his reading glasses on and flipped through the file, checking to make sure that everything was there. After finishing his work and finding the information complete he looked over his reading glasses to glance into the assassin's brown eyes, as though trying to ascertain his level of skill.
"I have little time for pleasantries, so I'm going to be both blunt and brief with you." he stated. "This is a dangerous job, perhaps even considered a suicide mission to most. Do you think you can handle it?"
"I'm sure that a man of such intellect as you possess would appreciate that I cannot give you an honest answer untill I am better informed on the matter." #318 replied graciously.
"Right answer." Van replied, smirking. He is very professional, so unlike all of my other assassins. He slid the envelope across the table to the assassin who opened it and studied it's contents carefully. I think I might actually enjoy working with this one. I wonder how long I can keep him here without the other offices complaining about it. Van ran through the details in his mind while he waited, and then happened to notice that Vark was standing idly by the door staring at him. "Why don't you make yourself usefull and bring me some tea?" he ordered. She nodded obediently.
"Anything for you?" she asked the assassin.
"Any hot tea with a light touch of sugar would be greatly appreciated." he absently replied, engrossed in his study of the information. She went straight to her work, carefull to open and close the door quietly so as not to disturb the meeting. #318 skimmed through several pages of information, absorbing every detail meticulously. He then calculated what it would take to get the job done, weighing the risks and the benefits carefully. Finally he finished the last page, closed the folder and glanced back up into the eyes of Tylon.
"With a bit of effort, I believe I can pull this off quite nicely." he announced. "Although it may require some cover-up work on your part."
"Cover-up work will be simple enough for me if you complete the mission as it is outlined in the folder." the other stated. #318 nodded in agreement with him. Vark returned momentarilly with their drinks and set them on the desk beside each man respectively, before returning to her corner by the door. Van picked up his cup and swirled it around for a moment before taking a slow sip. He tasted the drink's bitterness in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. "Still think you are up to the task?" The assassin seemed to consider it for a moment as he took a sip of his drink.
"Quite certainly."
"Very well then. I will see you again once the mission is completed." The assassin got up from his seat and bowed politely and Vark, as if on cue, walked over to escort him out the door.
"Oh, and Vark..." Van called as they reached the door. "Summon my dear half-sister while you're at it."
"Immediately." she answered, bowing a show of obedience and then turning directly to her task.
Alica eyed the new assassin curisouly as he walked back into the room, trying to figure out what made him so important. She studied the sharp Asian features of his slender face and the way his bangs fell over his forehead. They partially covered his eyebrows in the front, but she could see enough to know that they angled down sharply, making him look angry. His bangs sloped down towards his ears at the sides and the rest of his long, black hair was casually pulled back into a lose ponytail that trailed down to the middle of his back. The light from the room reflected coldly off the circular frames of his glasses, making it difficult to see his slanted Asian eyes.
"Alica, you're next." Vark stated coldly. She got up from her seat as #318 walked into the middle of the room. She had half a mind to ask him to stay there untill she got back. She wanted to talk to him, to figure out who he was and what he was doing. He sat back down in his recliner as though he were going to wait there for awhile anyway, so she didn't bother. She simply left the room and allowed Vark, whom she truly despised, to lead her into her brother's office, even though she already knew the way.
"You can almost sense the tension between those two, ne?" Fox asked #318 once they had gone. "I think it has something to do with the fact that Vark seems to have a crush on her brother. I have to admit he is quite a lovely specimen of a man."
"Hm."
"Is that all you're going to say? Oh, but I forgot! The lady is gone now, so of course you're going to revert to your normal self. How boring." he turned back towards the mirror and stared at his own reflection, straightening his hair and applying fresh make-up where he felt it was needed.
"I should be the one getting the respect around here." Bakuryu's worn old voice grated. "I have worked for Tylon ever since I was ten." Fox glanced at his reflection in the mirror.
"So it's been what, 90 years for you now?"
"Grrr, Tylon hasn't been around that long and you know it!" the angered man hissed.
"It's been around long enough if you've been working here since you were ten." Fox finished, turning back to his own reflection in the mirror.
"I've been working for them for almost eight years now." Greg added. "How about you, #318?"
"Seven years and three months." he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Seven years and three months!" Fox repeated. "Are you deaf?"
"No, but he is quiet!"
"Silence can be deadly." Bakuryu stated. Strangely enough, it was silent after that because no one had anything else to say. The silence penetrated the room, causing a slight feeling of uneasiness. Bakuryu smiled at the way Greg glanced nervously about the room.
"Oh, enough already!" Fox yelled. "What is this silence-can-be deadly shit?"
"Percisely what you should expect from a Master of Ninjitsu." #318 replied.
"How did you know that!?!" Bakuryu demanded.
"You are wearing ninja gi." he stated, pointing out the other's ignorance.
"And how do you know that I'm a Master and not just some student?" Bakuryu continued.
"That much is obvious to me. I recognize my competition when I see it."
"What!?! Are you a Samurai?"
"No."
"Then why do you say that?"
"I am an assassin, and as you are also an assassin you are my competition, are you not?"
"Oh."
"You see what I mean?" Fox asked. "He's got such a superior attitude, and he loves to make others look stupid!"
"Which isn't much of a task in Greg's case." #318 added.
"Did I do something that bothered you?" Greg asked. "I was only trying to have a nice conversation..."
"It is in the past, Greg. I suppose you have forgotten."
"I guess so..." he agreed, staring into the other's face as though looking for something. Alica walked back into the room and sat down at her spot on the couch.
"I hope I can find some better work soon." Greg whined. "Such a long time and still so little money for my circus."
"That's only because you're such a lousy assassin!" Bakuryu accused.
"Why don't you open a new show or something?" Fox suggested. "Your current shows are so boring, it's no wonder your circus is about to go bankrupt!"
"For starts you could take everyone in this room and start a freak show." #318 sugested.
"Ah, how ruuuude!" Fox whined. "How dare you refer to my beautiful looks in such a manner!" he started to cock his hand back to throw his brush at #318, but then remembered what had happened last time and reconsidered.
"Between you, Greg, and the old ninja I think it would be quite a sucessfull freak show, don't you?"
"And what about you and Alica? You think just because you look half-way normal you are not freaks? Forget about it dear! This is a room full of assassins, we are all freaks here!"
"Call me dear one more time I'll shave off your eyebrows and cut off your pretty little eyelashes!"
"Ah! How dare you..."
"Fox." Vark interrupted. "You're up next." He got up from his seat at the vanity, turning his back to #318, and walked gracefully to the door.
"Toodles!" Fox called, waving them goodbye before stepping out. #318 groaned in annoyance.
"I certainly hope it is not necessary for me to work with him again anytime soon."
"I'm not a freak." Alica mumbled, trying to assure herself of the fact.
"What did I do to you anyway?" Greg wondered.
"Such a terrible memory..." #318 complained. "It is pitiful... you are quite pitiful. Although I suppose seven years has made quite a difference on me."
"Oh wait, I know!" Greg finally remembered. "You're that kid that I had to teach how to be an assassin! I remember now, Tylon was threatening to kill your family if you didn't kill for them. Sorry about what I said... Oh, I know I was very crude. But they told me that if I did that they would donate so much money to my circus... and you know, I haven't seen a damn penny of it yet, what a rip!"
"Ugh..." #318 groaned in distaste at the memory. "It took you long enough, you damned oaf."
"Tylon threatened to kill your family?" Alica asked. "But they didn't actually do it yet?"
"I have been quite dilligent in my efforts to prevent them from doing so." #318 answered coldly.
"That's one I must say I haven't heard before." she admitted. "I know they've used a certain kind of collar to control people, other forms of black-mail, but..."
"An unwilling assassin has weaknesses." Bakuryu interrupted, grinning so wide that it was scary. "And now I see my chance! I will rise to the top and be 'Bakuryu the Feared' once more! Do you know what they used to say about me? They used to say that if someone turned up on my hit list they may as well begin their funeral preparations." His grin widened even more at the finish of the statement.
"I almost wish Fox were here to throw a brush at him." #318 complained.
"Yes, it would be nice to have someone shut him up." Alica agreed.
"Hmpf." the new assassin got up from the recliner and made for the door.
"Going to work now?" Greg asked.
"Going out to smoke." he replied. "Then to work."
"I see Tylon has made you pick up some nasty habits."
"Smoking is the least of them." He walked through the doorway and closed the door behind him, Alica decided to get up from her seat and follow.
"Now where are you going?"
"Mind you own business Greg!" She left the room and followed him from a short distance, watching as he left the building and sat down at the curb of the parking lot before fishing a cigarette and a lighter out of one pocket. She walked over to him as he light the cigarette, and sat down beside him on the curb. She didn't smoke herself, actually she detested the smell of it, but she was curious about this man and her curiousity usually won out. She was hoping that he might be a little more open now that the others had been left behind.
"Mind if I have you name now?"
"Yes, and very much so."
"It's just a name."
"As are all the people we kill, simply names on a list."
"Are you afraid someone's going to put your name on it?"
"I am not afraid of anything." He took a long drag of his cigarette as though he were hoping it would make her go away.
"Nothing at all? Not even death?"
"Death least of all."
"Everyone is afraid of something."
"If I tell you what I am afraid of, will you go away?"
"I'm curious about you."
"Many people are."
"I will not leave untill my curiosity is satisfied."
"I have killed people for less."
"So have I."
"Fair enough." He took another long drag of his cigarette and leaned back, tilting his head to look up at the sky. Most of it was blocked off from his view by the roofs of sky-scrapers, and clouded by a heavy fog.
"You have my name."
"Alica Tylon."
"Yes, now may I have yours?"
"You may call me Singh Long."
"See, that wasn't so hard." she joined him in gazing up at the sky, straining to see a bit of blue beneath the many layers of fog.
"What are you still here for? If there's something else you want then be quick about it, I have work to do."
"So, Tylon threatened to kill your family if you would not kill for them?"
"You knew that already, get to the point."
"Do you enjoy your work? You seem to."
"I don't enjoy a moment of it. I simply perform my functions to the best of my ability in order to avoid the penalties for failing to do so."
"So you're afraid they're going to kill your family?"
"I don't think so, it's my turn to ask a question." he finished the cigarette and flicked the filter into the middle of the parking lot. "Now, I have heard that you are Van's half-sister. That can't be any fun."
"It sure as hell isn't a walk in the park."
"And do you enjoy your work?"
"Hell no."
"Hm, I see. Yet you continue to do it."
"It's my turn." she reminded him. "You are afraid they're going to kill your family."
"They will, if I so much as botch up one job. I am a professional due only to necessity, and you?"
"Someone framed me for killing my father." He burst into laughter upon hearing her answer. "What are you laughing for? People think I killed him to gain control of Tylon, this is not funny!!!"
"No, but it is quite ironic." he replied, making an effort to stop laughing.
"How is it ironic?"
"I have desired to kill my own father... for a very long time."
"Well, my situation is different."
"I agree, but is it not a strange coincidence? If indeed a coincidence it is."
"I guess so... Anyway, to answer your question I am not widely trusted due to my half-blood. Van, my pure-blodded brother..." she said his name as though it were the name of a disease. "is protecting me from whatever fate is usually reserved for the person who kills the head Tylon."
"And you despise him for it."
"My turn to ask a question."
"It wasn't a question."
"Right... well, now... where was I? Oh yes, on your family. You kill to protect them."
"Indeed."
"And how many are there? You hate your father, but you have a mother, brothers? Sisters?"
"My mother and one younger sister, I kill for them."
"I see."
"I am done with you now. I can plainly see that you are trapped underneath Van's thumb. He is not going to let you go anywhere."
"You seem to know him well enough for having just met him, but I suppose he is easy enough to figure out."
"I know his type." Long replied, getting up from the curb.
"Wait, I'm not done talking to you."
"But I am done," he insisted, walking off into the parking lot as she jumped up from her seat. "and I'm going to work now."
"Wait! I thought... I just thought we could talk." he stopped walking. "There aren't many other unwilling assassins you know." He stood there for a moment, considering the matter.
"As well as your brother recieved me Alica..." Long began, not bothering to turn his head back to look at her. "I doubt it will be long before I see you again. Anyhow, I have work to do." That said, he walked off. She stood there and watched dazedly as his tall, muscular form gracefully walked through the parking lot, his ponytail swinging gently with his gait. He crossed over it quickly and dissapeared behind a corner, which she knew to lead to a backstreet.
Have it your way then, Singh Long. I will see you again.
"I have little time for pleasantries, so I'm going to be both blunt and brief with you." he stated. "This is a dangerous job, perhaps even considered a suicide mission to most. Do you think you can handle it?"
"I'm sure that a man of such intellect as you possess would appreciate that I cannot give you an honest answer untill I am better informed on the matter." #318 replied graciously.
"Right answer." Van replied, smirking. He is very professional, so unlike all of my other assassins. He slid the envelope across the table to the assassin who opened it and studied it's contents carefully. I think I might actually enjoy working with this one. I wonder how long I can keep him here without the other offices complaining about it. Van ran through the details in his mind while he waited, and then happened to notice that Vark was standing idly by the door staring at him. "Why don't you make yourself usefull and bring me some tea?" he ordered. She nodded obediently.
"Anything for you?" she asked the assassin.
"Any hot tea with a light touch of sugar would be greatly appreciated." he absently replied, engrossed in his study of the information. She went straight to her work, carefull to open and close the door quietly so as not to disturb the meeting. #318 skimmed through several pages of information, absorbing every detail meticulously. He then calculated what it would take to get the job done, weighing the risks and the benefits carefully. Finally he finished the last page, closed the folder and glanced back up into the eyes of Tylon.
"With a bit of effort, I believe I can pull this off quite nicely." he announced. "Although it may require some cover-up work on your part."
"Cover-up work will be simple enough for me if you complete the mission as it is outlined in the folder." the other stated. #318 nodded in agreement with him. Vark returned momentarilly with their drinks and set them on the desk beside each man respectively, before returning to her corner by the door. Van picked up his cup and swirled it around for a moment before taking a slow sip. He tasted the drink's bitterness in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. "Still think you are up to the task?" The assassin seemed to consider it for a moment as he took a sip of his drink.
"Quite certainly."
"Very well then. I will see you again once the mission is completed." The assassin got up from his seat and bowed politely and Vark, as if on cue, walked over to escort him out the door.
"Oh, and Vark..." Van called as they reached the door. "Summon my dear half-sister while you're at it."
"Immediately." she answered, bowing a show of obedience and then turning directly to her task.
Alica eyed the new assassin curisouly as he walked back into the room, trying to figure out what made him so important. She studied the sharp Asian features of his slender face and the way his bangs fell over his forehead. They partially covered his eyebrows in the front, but she could see enough to know that they angled down sharply, making him look angry. His bangs sloped down towards his ears at the sides and the rest of his long, black hair was casually pulled back into a lose ponytail that trailed down to the middle of his back. The light from the room reflected coldly off the circular frames of his glasses, making it difficult to see his slanted Asian eyes.
"Alica, you're next." Vark stated coldly. She got up from her seat as #318 walked into the middle of the room. She had half a mind to ask him to stay there untill she got back. She wanted to talk to him, to figure out who he was and what he was doing. He sat back down in his recliner as though he were going to wait there for awhile anyway, so she didn't bother. She simply left the room and allowed Vark, whom she truly despised, to lead her into her brother's office, even though she already knew the way.
"You can almost sense the tension between those two, ne?" Fox asked #318 once they had gone. "I think it has something to do with the fact that Vark seems to have a crush on her brother. I have to admit he is quite a lovely specimen of a man."
"Hm."
"Is that all you're going to say? Oh, but I forgot! The lady is gone now, so of course you're going to revert to your normal self. How boring." he turned back towards the mirror and stared at his own reflection, straightening his hair and applying fresh make-up where he felt it was needed.
"I should be the one getting the respect around here." Bakuryu's worn old voice grated. "I have worked for Tylon ever since I was ten." Fox glanced at his reflection in the mirror.
"So it's been what, 90 years for you now?"
"Grrr, Tylon hasn't been around that long and you know it!" the angered man hissed.
"It's been around long enough if you've been working here since you were ten." Fox finished, turning back to his own reflection in the mirror.
"I've been working for them for almost eight years now." Greg added. "How about you, #318?"
"Seven years and three months." he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Seven years and three months!" Fox repeated. "Are you deaf?"
"No, but he is quiet!"
"Silence can be deadly." Bakuryu stated. Strangely enough, it was silent after that because no one had anything else to say. The silence penetrated the room, causing a slight feeling of uneasiness. Bakuryu smiled at the way Greg glanced nervously about the room.
"Oh, enough already!" Fox yelled. "What is this silence-can-be deadly shit?"
"Percisely what you should expect from a Master of Ninjitsu." #318 replied.
"How did you know that!?!" Bakuryu demanded.
"You are wearing ninja gi." he stated, pointing out the other's ignorance.
"And how do you know that I'm a Master and not just some student?" Bakuryu continued.
"That much is obvious to me. I recognize my competition when I see it."
"What!?! Are you a Samurai?"
"No."
"Then why do you say that?"
"I am an assassin, and as you are also an assassin you are my competition, are you not?"
"Oh."
"You see what I mean?" Fox asked. "He's got such a superior attitude, and he loves to make others look stupid!"
"Which isn't much of a task in Greg's case." #318 added.
"Did I do something that bothered you?" Greg asked. "I was only trying to have a nice conversation..."
"It is in the past, Greg. I suppose you have forgotten."
"I guess so..." he agreed, staring into the other's face as though looking for something. Alica walked back into the room and sat down at her spot on the couch.
"I hope I can find some better work soon." Greg whined. "Such a long time and still so little money for my circus."
"That's only because you're such a lousy assassin!" Bakuryu accused.
"Why don't you open a new show or something?" Fox suggested. "Your current shows are so boring, it's no wonder your circus is about to go bankrupt!"
"For starts you could take everyone in this room and start a freak show." #318 sugested.
"Ah, how ruuuude!" Fox whined. "How dare you refer to my beautiful looks in such a manner!" he started to cock his hand back to throw his brush at #318, but then remembered what had happened last time and reconsidered.
"Between you, Greg, and the old ninja I think it would be quite a sucessfull freak show, don't you?"
"And what about you and Alica? You think just because you look half-way normal you are not freaks? Forget about it dear! This is a room full of assassins, we are all freaks here!"
"Call me dear one more time I'll shave off your eyebrows and cut off your pretty little eyelashes!"
"Ah! How dare you..."
"Fox." Vark interrupted. "You're up next." He got up from his seat at the vanity, turning his back to #318, and walked gracefully to the door.
"Toodles!" Fox called, waving them goodbye before stepping out. #318 groaned in annoyance.
"I certainly hope it is not necessary for me to work with him again anytime soon."
"I'm not a freak." Alica mumbled, trying to assure herself of the fact.
"What did I do to you anyway?" Greg wondered.
"Such a terrible memory..." #318 complained. "It is pitiful... you are quite pitiful. Although I suppose seven years has made quite a difference on me."
"Oh wait, I know!" Greg finally remembered. "You're that kid that I had to teach how to be an assassin! I remember now, Tylon was threatening to kill your family if you didn't kill for them. Sorry about what I said... Oh, I know I was very crude. But they told me that if I did that they would donate so much money to my circus... and you know, I haven't seen a damn penny of it yet, what a rip!"
"Ugh..." #318 groaned in distaste at the memory. "It took you long enough, you damned oaf."
"Tylon threatened to kill your family?" Alica asked. "But they didn't actually do it yet?"
"I have been quite dilligent in my efforts to prevent them from doing so." #318 answered coldly.
"That's one I must say I haven't heard before." she admitted. "I know they've used a certain kind of collar to control people, other forms of black-mail, but..."
"An unwilling assassin has weaknesses." Bakuryu interrupted, grinning so wide that it was scary. "And now I see my chance! I will rise to the top and be 'Bakuryu the Feared' once more! Do you know what they used to say about me? They used to say that if someone turned up on my hit list they may as well begin their funeral preparations." His grin widened even more at the finish of the statement.
"I almost wish Fox were here to throw a brush at him." #318 complained.
"Yes, it would be nice to have someone shut him up." Alica agreed.
"Hmpf." the new assassin got up from the recliner and made for the door.
"Going to work now?" Greg asked.
"Going out to smoke." he replied. "Then to work."
"I see Tylon has made you pick up some nasty habits."
"Smoking is the least of them." He walked through the doorway and closed the door behind him, Alica decided to get up from her seat and follow.
"Now where are you going?"
"Mind you own business Greg!" She left the room and followed him from a short distance, watching as he left the building and sat down at the curb of the parking lot before fishing a cigarette and a lighter out of one pocket. She walked over to him as he light the cigarette, and sat down beside him on the curb. She didn't smoke herself, actually she detested the smell of it, but she was curious about this man and her curiousity usually won out. She was hoping that he might be a little more open now that the others had been left behind.
"Mind if I have you name now?"
"Yes, and very much so."
"It's just a name."
"As are all the people we kill, simply names on a list."
"Are you afraid someone's going to put your name on it?"
"I am not afraid of anything." He took a long drag of his cigarette as though he were hoping it would make her go away.
"Nothing at all? Not even death?"
"Death least of all."
"Everyone is afraid of something."
"If I tell you what I am afraid of, will you go away?"
"I'm curious about you."
"Many people are."
"I will not leave untill my curiosity is satisfied."
"I have killed people for less."
"So have I."
"Fair enough." He took another long drag of his cigarette and leaned back, tilting his head to look up at the sky. Most of it was blocked off from his view by the roofs of sky-scrapers, and clouded by a heavy fog.
"You have my name."
"Alica Tylon."
"Yes, now may I have yours?"
"You may call me Singh Long."
"See, that wasn't so hard." she joined him in gazing up at the sky, straining to see a bit of blue beneath the many layers of fog.
"What are you still here for? If there's something else you want then be quick about it, I have work to do."
"So, Tylon threatened to kill your family if you would not kill for them?"
"You knew that already, get to the point."
"Do you enjoy your work? You seem to."
"I don't enjoy a moment of it. I simply perform my functions to the best of my ability in order to avoid the penalties for failing to do so."
"So you're afraid they're going to kill your family?"
"I don't think so, it's my turn to ask a question." he finished the cigarette and flicked the filter into the middle of the parking lot. "Now, I have heard that you are Van's half-sister. That can't be any fun."
"It sure as hell isn't a walk in the park."
"And do you enjoy your work?"
"Hell no."
"Hm, I see. Yet you continue to do it."
"It's my turn." she reminded him. "You are afraid they're going to kill your family."
"They will, if I so much as botch up one job. I am a professional due only to necessity, and you?"
"Someone framed me for killing my father." He burst into laughter upon hearing her answer. "What are you laughing for? People think I killed him to gain control of Tylon, this is not funny!!!"
"No, but it is quite ironic." he replied, making an effort to stop laughing.
"How is it ironic?"
"I have desired to kill my own father... for a very long time."
"Well, my situation is different."
"I agree, but is it not a strange coincidence? If indeed a coincidence it is."
"I guess so... Anyway, to answer your question I am not widely trusted due to my half-blood. Van, my pure-blodded brother..." she said his name as though it were the name of a disease. "is protecting me from whatever fate is usually reserved for the person who kills the head Tylon."
"And you despise him for it."
"My turn to ask a question."
"It wasn't a question."
"Right... well, now... where was I? Oh yes, on your family. You kill to protect them."
"Indeed."
"And how many are there? You hate your father, but you have a mother, brothers? Sisters?"
"My mother and one younger sister, I kill for them."
"I see."
"I am done with you now. I can plainly see that you are trapped underneath Van's thumb. He is not going to let you go anywhere."
"You seem to know him well enough for having just met him, but I suppose he is easy enough to figure out."
"I know his type." Long replied, getting up from the curb.
"Wait, I'm not done talking to you."
"But I am done," he insisted, walking off into the parking lot as she jumped up from her seat. "and I'm going to work now."
"Wait! I thought... I just thought we could talk." he stopped walking. "There aren't many other unwilling assassins you know." He stood there for a moment, considering the matter.
"As well as your brother recieved me Alica..." Long began, not bothering to turn his head back to look at her. "I doubt it will be long before I see you again. Anyhow, I have work to do." That said, he walked off. She stood there and watched dazedly as his tall, muscular form gracefully walked through the parking lot, his ponytail swinging gently with his gait. He crossed over it quickly and dissapeared behind a corner, which she knew to lead to a backstreet.
Have it your way then, Singh Long. I will see you again.