Our Hellish World
By Red Glasses
It was a moonless night, which helped to set the mood. I sat on the roof, rather bored. There were only a few stars in the sky, so everything was pitch black. I do love a good challenge. I slip on a pair of black gloves and carefully pull out my bow. My alert eyes scan through the houses, and I spot my target, just as the picture had described him. I pull out the sharp arrow and fasten it in the bow gingerly.
Steady now... If I miss this, my mission is a failure. Breathe in.. Breathe out. I steady my hand, then release the arrow. Right when I hear the sound of a hit target, I sling my bow over my shoulder and hop to the next building. When I'm sure that no one is around, I light a small fire and burn the gloves- erasing all evidence. Once the fire is out, I take the ashes and sprinkle them over the side of the building, letting the wind spread them out. Rule #1 of assassination: Leave no trace.

Mission: Success. I erase evidence of the fire and hop building to building. When I'm far enough from the city, I stop and put my bow back in it's case. I pull out a phone and tap on one of the only numbers registered: HQ. After two rings, I hear the familiar music. I quickly say my code into the phone, and I hear a strong male voice pick up. "Black Fox!" He greets. "Hello, Sir." I say softly. "Mission Success." I can almost hear his smile. "Excellent work as usual! Get back to HQ, we'll call your client and have the money delivered to you." He booms. Tch, he's so loud for an assassin boss. "Okay, Sir. Thank you." I say, hanging up.
They call me Black Fox at the agency. It's a Code Name; we are forbidden to use our own do to security protection. And if the moment comes, we also have fake names set up along with ID's. We have Red Wolf; Daniel. Navy Horse; Aaron. Gray Crow; Skylar. Crimson Lion; Tyson. Violet Cat; Rosie. And I. Black Fox; Avery. This is my team. D.A.S.T.R.A. Nothing special, just our initials put together.
I hop on my black motorcycle and start the engine; my keys were left in. I take my helmet and put it over my light brown locks, tucking some of the stray strands behind my ear. My motorcycle purrs, and I slam the gas, speeding away. As I rode, I could hear the sound of the police nearby. Shit. I think angrily. I was the only person on the road, so I'll look suspicious. I swerve to the right and into the trees, right as a line of cop cars speeds by me. I was hoping that the dark of the trees would hide me, and it did.
Once I was positive that the police cars were gone, I take my bike out of the trees and back onto the road. Then, my phone rings again, I pick it up and look at the caller ID, then sigh softly. Tyson. "Hello..?" I ask, a small frown on my face. "Avery! You okay?" My teammate asks loudly, the concern clear in his voice. "Yeah, Crimson Lion. I'm fine." I hiss. Realizing his obvious mistake, I hear a small gasp from his side of the line. "Crap! Sorry Black Fox!" Tyson says in alarm. How does this dumbass always forget that our calls could be taped? The only reason he was welcome into the agency is because of his charisma and the fact that he's brilliant with a gun.
"It's cool- just watch yourself next time." I say with a soft sigh. "Right! Stay safe Foxy!" Tyson says with his usual loud laugh, hanging up his phone before I could yell at him. He calls me Foxy because he knows it pisses me off. I shake my head and tuck my phone back into the single pocket of my tight black pants. I start up my motorcycle once more and zoom off, my brown locks flying about behind me.

I arrive at a small run down wear-house. I slip off my bike and walk it inside, quickly making sure no one was watching. Inside, it would first appear that the wear-house was empty, but it was much more than that. I stomp around until I hear the familiar hollow thump. I kneel down and undo the board, revealing a layer of soft earth. Brushing it away, I find a button. I press it, and several of the boards begin to shift, moving away to reveal a metal platform. I cover up the switch once more and place the board back down as I had done so many times before. I lead my motorcycle to the metal platform and press another button with the heel of my boot, and it makes a soft grinding noise before lowering me into the ground. I look up and see the boards shifting once more and rejoining.
Once I'm far enough underground, a smile crosses my face. "I'm back!" I call, hopping off the platform and waving to Chris; our boss. "Black! You're back!" He booms, wrapping me into a way-too-tight hug. "Yeah..!" I gasp, struggling to breathe through his crushing hug. Chris lets go and flashes me a wide grin.
Chris looks how you may expect an assassin boss may look. Tall, goatee, dark eyes and hair, pretty damn strong, brilliant, but he has an unusually warm smile. He's also our "dad". Not biologically. Tyson, Skylar, Rosie, Daniel, Aaron, and I are orphans. He "adopted" us and raised us- to be assassins. Tyson had recently joined the "family". He had been at an orphanage not to long ago when Chris spotted him hunting in his territory. Long story short, Tyson was a great shot so he was invited to join. He's such a klutz though... The rest of us kinda grew up together; I being here the longest.
Chris releases his grasp on me and I gasp for air. His booming laugh fills the air and he pats me on the back. "Alright, go find the others. I have a mission for you." He says. "Okay. Where are they?" I ask. "Aaron, Tyson, and Daniel are training. I think Skylar and Rosie in their rooms." He replies. I nod and decide to head to Skylar's room first. I head downstairs and spot the familiar redhead locking her bedroom door. Her blue eyes land on me and a wide grin crosses her face. "Hi Avery!" She chirps, "Did you just get back from your mission?" Skylar asks. I nod, smiling faintly in return. "Chris wanted us to all meet upstairs for an assignment." I say, heading over to Rosie's door and knocking on it. The bubbly redhead nods and rushes upstairs. Rosie may not seem very bright, but she's rather excellent at hand-to-hand combat.
The door to Rosie's room opens, revealing the short blonde with a pixie cut and wire- framed glasses. She looks up at me through intelligent brown eyes, "Hello, Avery. How may I help you?" She asks quietly. Rosie is the brains of our team. She does fairly well with hand-to- hand combat, her aim with a weapon is a bit shaky, but she is excellent with strategies. "Chris wanted us to meet upstairs for a meeting." I say to her. Rosie smiles faintly and nods, walking upstairs.
I watch her leave, then I head downstairs. Right when I open the door to the training room, I am welcomed by the smell of sweat and the yells of my male teammates. I spot Daniel and Tyson in combat aiming punches at each other. Aaron was watching them from the sidelines, his green eyes wide in excitement as he cheers on the other two. Aaron and I make eye contact, and the dirty blonde boy flashes me a smile, "Hey! Avery is here!" He calls. Daniel and Tyson stop and look at me. "Hey Avery!" Tyson calls with his usual loud voice. He pushes his dark hair back, which was wet with sweat and sticking to his head. "Do you need anything?" Daniel asks, stretching. "Chris wanted us to all meet upstairs so he can assign us a mission." I say, turning on my heel and walking away.
I hear the three males behind me, and I turn around, wrinkling my nose. "You guys stink! How long were you training?" I ask. "Ever since I got off the phone with you." Tyson boasts. I roll my eyes and make my way upstairs, where Chris, Rosie, and Skylar were waiting for us. "There you are!" Chris says with a wide grin. I nod and sit down with the others. The three boys join me on the floor, and I wrinkle my nose once more. "Seriously! Take a damn bath!" Daniel brushes his blonde hair away from his forehead, laughing, "Later." He says. I fake a pout and turn back to Chris, who claps his rather large hands together. "Alright! Our client doesn't wish for his name to be revealed, but he's offering a ton of money for this one!" We all exchange pleased looks. "Alright! Who, when, and where?" Daniel asks excitedly. Daniel was sort of the leader of our little group. He specialized in all fields of combat- weaponry and hand-to-hand, and there was an air about him that made him seem trustworthy.
Chris smiles, "Okay, your target lives in a large house on Racket Road. You can't miss it. Heavily secured place; it won't be easy to infiltrate. The target must be dead by tomorrow night. His name is..." Chris searches through some papers, then pulls out a picture of a boy. Once my green eyes take in his face, I freeze.
No..
He had sandy hair and friendly blue eyes, and a wide grin was across his face. Judging from his features; he was 17, like us.
No no no no no no! Not him! I think angrily. Once everyone takes in his face, they nod. "His name is Connor Gregory." Chris informs.
~ One Week Previous ~
Dodgeball day; my favorite. I could be violent and still go for the rules... most of the time. I glare at a group of fellow Junior girls, huddled in a group and giggling. Is that all these girls can do? I think. Chris only had one rule for when we were at school: Don't make friends, you may end up having to kill them later. It was simple, I didn't speak to them and they didn't speak to me. Some of the guys tried, but I never really stuck with a conversation. The bright red balls were all lined up along the Gym floor. I bent into a running position, smiling excitedly. I look up from the balls and scan the other team for any threats, and spot some males who may be good at throwing. Then, my green eyes meet a pair of blue ones. The boy with the blue eyes flashes me a friendly grin, and I can't help but smile in return.
"Go!" The PE teacher yells. I spring across the floor and grab two of the balls, then dart back. Once I cross the line in which we can fire from, both of my red balls fly from my hands, and I manage to get two people out. A ball comes flying towards me, and I catch it, getting another person out. I grab a rolling ball, and my eyes meet the blue-eyed boy once more. Subconsciously, the ball flies from my hand. And hits him in the face. He stumbles back and hits the floor. The teacher blows the whistle, and the game comes to a halt. "Connor! You okay?" He calls. Connor stands up, revealing a bloody nose, and my face goes beet red. "Yeah, I'm fine." He says with a laugh. The PE teacher shakes his head. "Get to tha office and wash away that blood. Get an ice pack too." He says. Connor blinks in surprise and nods, "Er.. Alright."
"Take someone with ya too." He says. His eyes scan the students, including myself. "Uh.. I'll go!" I call. Heads snap in my direction, and my face heats up even more. The teacher nods, furrowing his eyebrow in confusion as he looked at me. He obviously forgot my name. "Alright, get back as soon as ya can." He says, dismissing us with a wave of his hand.
As soon as we leave the gym, I begin to apologize. "I'm so sorry about that!" I say, burying my face into my hands. Connor laughs slightly. "It's fine! It's my fault for being a terrible dodger! Hey, what's your name?" Don't make friends, you may end up having to kill them later.
"Avery." I reply with a small smile. "Cool, I'm Connor." He says, returning the smile.
Don't make friends, you may end up having to kill them later. Screw the rules. This guy's too nice for someone to ever want to kill him.
We talk for what seems like forever, until we reach the office. Connor enters and gets cleaned up, while I wait in the hall, dazed. I broke the rules and made an actual friend.. wow. I think, running a hand through my light brown locks. The rules don't matter anymore. I actually made a friend. A real friend. Not like Tyson, Rosie, Daniel, Aaron, and Skylar; who were like family. An actual friend. When Connor exits the office, he has a tissue up his nose so soak up the blood, and I can't help but let out a laugh. Connor fakes a pout by sticking out his lower lip, "You think I look weird?" He asks. I flash him a smile and nod, and we both break out in a fit of laughter.
An actual friend.
~ Present ~
And now I have to kill him. This is why I shouldn't have broken the rules. I keep a poker face on and listen as Rosie and Daniel discuss our plan to kill Connor. "Avery is fastest and the quietest with killing. She should do it." Rosie says in her soft voice. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I merely nod. Once we've completed our strategizing, we load our weapons and each hop onto identical black motorcycles, all taking separate routs to his house. As I ride, I let my tears fall.
Us assassins live in a truly hellish world. We must distance ourselves from others. We can't become friends with anyone, because we live to kill, and you may have to kill that one person you were foolish enough to befriend.