isn't mine


john Alexander received all the necessary training he needed. when he went and his first mission, he knew everything he needed. he knew all of espionage, how to build a bomb and how to defuse it. he knew about every possible poison, how to torture and how to resist torture. he knew how to hill with just a touch and how to use about every weapon there is. john was a skilled fighter, knowing medicine, and speaking all of the over forty of the most important languages in the world without a hint of an accent.

he hadn't been in blunts office since that day, but he hadn't been surprised at all, when he was called there on his fifteenth birthday. he had had enough time to prepare for this, more than enough, in fact.

since the funeral john had been living in the bank, learning everything he didn't know yet, coming to know some things about mi6 while he was at it, too.

Smithers showed him how to make weapons and gadgets out of the simplest things, and he learned that blunt never leaved the building.

ever.

it was just too risky.

just before going to blunts office, smithers had presented him a new invention of his.

a movable tattoo.

the mark john chose then was a simple number, that would go up for each person he killed.

to never forget them, burned into his body.

he would never forget.

but he didn't want to always remember either.

beside the mission, he knew, this was the only present he would get today.

john stepped into blunts office.

it was time.


i'm trying to write each day at least 200 words. it isn't much, but it is something. please award me with 20 words, thanks :D

please

push

this

button

\/