Sinbad grabbed the paper, its weight most likely barely that of a feather, but it seemed to have a gravity of its own.
Unfolding the paper, Sinbad was greeted by one of the most unfriendly, and horribly familiar of gazes.
Ja'far...what have you gotten yourself into.
~PageBreak~
With a flick of the wrist a life can be taken, he knew this well. Escaping had barely been a concept in his mind and yet already he was tasting the bitter aftertaste of a dream burnt before his eyes. The ashes drowned and buried beneath a pool of thick black blood. The common sight of a fresh kill, which would usually cause a slight numbing effect, was rattling his bones. He had been so close to leaving this life behind and becoming something worth living for. Now here he was once again knee deep in death and wishing for another chance.
Damn. Ja'far gritted his teeth as his arms twisted around the corpse's shoulders and lifted up its front. The weight was difficult to maneuver, especially while catering to his wounded leg, but he was still able to hide the body and prep for the cleaners.
Buzz. Buzz. Green eyes flickered at the sound of the vibrations coming from his phone. Another target? Click.
"I'm glad to see that you are still loyal, Assassin," slithered from the slotted holes from the metal device. Ja'far whipped his head up at the unregistered voice. "And here I was worrying that you had lost your nerve." Ja'far swallowed the spit suddenly clogging his throat, pivoted on his heels and ran to the closest doorway to cover his figure from the windows.
"Trust, once lost, cannot be found again. Keep no family or friend. Disloyalty is an honor less end," Ja'far recited, his tone eerily even so as to not upset the man on the other side of the phone.
"Good. I do not understand why you are enrolled in a school, this is your future," the man chuckled.
Ja'far's eyes widened, his mouth slightly a jar as he listened. It is him, but why?! He flipped his body into the bathroom and shut the door, grabbing the golden nob and twisting the lock. Snow touched fingers moved to retract his knives, but stopped after feeling the fabric of his sleeves. Damn! When I need them most! Ja'far growled to himself and readjusted his grip on the kitchen knife he had used to slice the throat of his latest target. It may not be the weapon he favored, but it could save his life, need be.
"I keep a close eye on all of my employees, you are no different, do not be so surprised. I am merely calling to see how many of my children are still alive…and loyal," the man continued, who Ja'far was now positive was the infamous Al. The man who had brought him into this organization and who would ultimately take him out of it. Is this the end? Ja'far spat in his head. This is my life? This is what I clung to desperately?! A free hand slipped into white hair, gripping tightly and pulling out a few strands in frustration.
"I do not care that you enrolled in some high school. Go ahead, see what it gets you," the voice quipped. "What I care about is what you said while strapped to a hospital bed and behind closed doors."
Ja'far stilled, holding his breath. "I claimed to be a victim. I did not reveal any information, I assure you," he breathed.
"I believe you."
Ja'far let all the air leave his lungs as he slid to the ground, relieved that he did not have to prove his story to the homicidal man.
"But I have to make sure."
Bang! Ja'far shot up from his place on the tiled floor, his heart in his stomach. No. He could hear footsteps just outside the bathroom door. Ja'far dropped the phone and backed up farther into the room, holding up his bloodied knife. The golden lock shook under the strain of a powerful hand, the nob barely holding in the painted wood. The pale teenager watched the door as he knelt down and rummaged through the cabinet beneath the sink. Looking for anything he can use against the men that would soon break through the door. Three bottles of cleaning sprays, a sponge, toilet paper, and a can of hairspray came into view. Ja'far grabbed one of the cleaning liquids and read the label to see if it had bleach, but it was taking too long to find and he threw it away. Damn, damn, damn! Why the Hell doesn't this guy keep anything useful under here!?
The lock fell to the ground with a metallic clunk, knob and all. Ja'far grabbed the hairspray can and pulled off the lid as the door creaked open. He held his knife high in front of him, keeping the spray out of sight and crouched low. Ready to fight off an attack, if it came to it. Never thought I would end up here of all places.
Standing in the doorway were two figures clad in all black, the only visible human features were the cold eyes glaring down at him.
"Stand down, Assassin," one of the figures hissed, the other pulled out a long machete in warning.
Ja'far bit down harshly on his tongue as he weighed his options. This could be the last time he would be able to think and breath and cling to life; he could die in the next few seconds. He could also drop his weapons, surrender, and die a quicker more honorable death. None of the options are appealing.
From its place on the floor, the phone buzzed into life once more.
"Resisting will not prove well for your story," the phone hummed in static before disconnecting.
Ja'far felt his shoulders sagging in the thick atmosphere, his knees hitting the floor as the metal can and knife clang on the tile. His breathing was heavy as he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. The air swept away and he was left to watch the bubbles of his strength float away.
The darkly clothed men walked over to the hunched over teen and pulled him up by each arm. It was against his nature to allow anyone to man handle him, but this was not his place to assert anything, least of all when acting on the orders of his masters.
The taller of the two pulled out a white cloth and briskly placed it on Ja'far's face, covering the mouth and nose. His hair was roughly pulled back with his neck yanked into an awkward angle that caused him to grunt at the force. This is it. I'm going to die. Ja'far narrowed his eyes as the image of the two men above him became out of focus and blurry. Despite the anger he felt rising in his chest as his mind was blanking, he could not resist the shake that shot through his body. He was scared, scared of death and what he would wake up to see. In the last gleams of light, a shine of gold played across his mind. Perhaps it was the door knob, or maybe it was more important. You just show up everywhere huh? Haha.
It was dark.
~PageBreak~
Sorry about the wait guys, but summer is finally here and I have some free time! This one is a little short, but they will get longer. It took me a few days to get the inspiration for this chapter and while waiting I started editing my older chapters. I am shocked by all the mistakes (especially in dialog) and will be cleaning that up slowly as well. So I hoped you liked the chapter and stick around for the next, you've all been wonderful!
