The Assassin
It was a dark rainy night, the light drizzle of rain and fog combined to form an eerie cloud hanging over the earth and distorting the moon's pallor. The light seem as if it danced and shimmered across the roads and buildings, like the reflections of water.
Inside a large warehouse, protected from the weather sat ten men huddled back to back in a circle clutching their firearms close to their chests as they struggled for seconds of tormented sleep. These ten men were the leaders and centerpieces of almost all organized crime, and in America, the level of violence, rape, and extortion hinged on their existence and the success of their prolific "careers". They had been running from it now for two weeks constantly changing locations, hiding, in futile attempts to throw it off their trail. Around the men over one hundred armed guards patrolled the warehouse meticulous to every detail as fear had taught them to be. The hermetic extremities created by the sheer man power of this security system made it all but impenetrable, and the safety of its occupants, all but compromised. Yet the threat persisted, and the criminals were at a loss for reasons.
"It" as he had been named sat on the roof; the person was about five foot nine with short black hair and intense blue eyes. Except for the eyes he was the kind of person that you could see and never quite be sure had seen again, his build and features blending perfectly with the common man on the street. He was wearing a black duster with a strait button up design and a square neck that looked as if it could hold the white collar of a priest, but never had, and never would. Were pants were of a normal black dress save for the gusseting along the crotch allowing for a greater freedom of mobility and flexibility in the legs.
He had been waiting, watching for two long weeks constantly following, teasing, and tormenting his prey. But this game of cat and mouse had run its course and tonight would draw to its lethal conclusion.
He drew a short sword from the sheath at his back, ramming it into a heating unit on the roof, the shorting wires and burning gas quickly heating his blade to a red hot glow. When he felt the heat begin to trace its way into the grip he jumped away from the heater into a hole in a nearby skylight, as he fell he placed the sword between his legs the treadles sole of his boots on the hilt. The sword landed point first into a guard's head, burning its way through his neck and jerking to a halt in his chest as the hilt slammed into the skull, the heat from the blade instantly sealing the wound eliminating any trace of blood to the searching eyes of other guards. The assassin then jumped off the guard's head taking his sword with him as he fell. Landing behind the guard he held the dead man in place until his limbs stiffened leaving him standing, the faithful guard, snapped to attention. The assassin then re-sheathed his sword and ran off into the maze of storage boxes seemingly synonymous with any warehouse.
As he turned a corner the assassin ran headlong into a pair of patrolling guards. Quickly drawing his sword he chopped off the action of the first guard's gun, continuing on with the stroke he lunged forward impaling the man between his ribs. The assassin then turned the sword sideways swinging it up and out of the guard's chest into the second's neck severing the head from the body. Without a second thought he ran on closing in on his final objective.
As he proceeded down a row of boxes running parallel to the ten's position, he heard two guards conversing in low tones as they rested for a smoke, "hey man, what do you think the bosses are so worked up about", the first guard responding "I don't know probably some kind of---", but the guard never finished. The assassin appeared behind him in the shadows, unseen as he shoved the needle up from under the guard's ear into his brain. "Some kind of wha—" but the second guard was also cut off as the garrote tightened around his neck.
The assassin was close now he could hear the stifled words of the ten, fear choking their voice to a whisper. The assassin once again drew his sword, planning the end of the game, the death of the ten. But suddenly as he rounded the corner the wall opposite to the criminals blew away. Through it stepped four teens about his own age. The first a monster of a man, made half of metal, shot a net from his arm trapping the ten, their chairs, and anything else within its grasp under an immense weight. The other three began fighting the guards, one a small green boy spun and backhanded a guard sending him flying off into a pile of boxes. The assassin did a double take realizing that they boy had turned into a 600 pound mountain gorilla, the guards running from it as it punched a three foot whole in the cement wall. Another, a green eyed alien girl began firing beams of light from her hands hot enough to melt the thick steel beams of the warehouse in half, powerful enough to send hapless guards flying throw the air or into the ground. The last, a young man with a strong athletic build and a strange colorful suit was attracting the most attention as one of the ten under the net pointed at him and shouted at what appeared to be robots. He quickly dispatched anything within his reach using a bo staff that came alive in his hands with deadly efficiency. Wave and wave of robots and men fell to his relentless attack.
The assassin quickly regained his poise and started towards the men trapped under the net, malice and hatred seeming to radiate throw his intense blue eyes. However before he could move one foot a dark hooded figure rose from the ground behind him like a ghost. He had a slight realization of the figure standing behind him before its dark power entered his mind, leaving the assassin passed out on the floor.