"Highness," I said my voice sounding wrong even to my own ears. "I am always careful." I spun on my heels and left the throne room, closing the doors after me. Erebus didn't stop me. I walked on through the forbidding hallways and corridors. It was silent and yet I could swear I heard them, the dead screaming and screeching at me. Sometimes, I could swear I saw them, the people I killed condemning me.
I glimpsed something from the corner of my eyes. I spun around, blaster in the ready, but there was nothing. I wiped at the blood running down the side of my face.
Just your paranoia, keep going.
I continued my path and as I passed the guards they saluted me, they had to, I was of higher rank. "Commander." They said as their boots slammed against the unforgiving marble stone.
It became a cacophony of sound. I didn't acknowledge them, and I suppose that was rude, but I did not care. I had bigger things to worry about, like getting an infection, bleeding out, a newbie, and a mysterious hacker girl.
I only acquired one true goal though. I had to escape. I had to leave before their darkness swallowed me whole before I fully transformed into the monster they already felt and feared within me. I needed to escape into solitude, tranquillity, but how? Would my inner self even permit such ideas? Would that monster, dormant in me, allow me to have peace?
The shadowed people, mere silhouettes in the darkness, whispered and snickered.
"Monster." They called. "Demonic. You're nothing more than Erebus' errands boy!" I gritted my teeth. As I chanted silently to myself, over and over.
I am the predator: never the prey: never the pawn.
I arrived at the central square of the city, eyes upon me. I could feel them, like electric bolts down my spine. I moved on, a sadistic smirk over my mouth; one that never quite formed. It was only the shadow of a smirk, the shadow of a smile. I was only a shadow; a part of the world, but never in it. I was only a shadow of the person I used to be.
I was dead: myself slowly fading.
You want me? Get me. I challenged, that all too familiar cold rationale, killing calm, spreading.
I pushed on through the crowded streets of the glorious Astrid: a city of breath-taking views. The ancients had craved it into a mighty fjord, which had influenced the architecture. The luxurious skyscrapers stood tall and proud in the face of time and nature, most of them dating to as far as the 22nd century.
I made the conscious effort to blend in seamlessly, which wasn't as difficult since most of us tended to wear darker colours. It was a way to take advantage of the night and use it as camouflage whenever our assignments must be low key, which was always. Of course, no assassin would go around wearing the garish neon – at least on assignments.
Heading down the street, towards the yet darker alley, I caught a glimpse of a flock of ravens. They're the only ones who ever see it coming – the deaths. I took in their sight as I continued my oh-so-merry-way. They followed, hopping and fluttering. A couple of turns later, I spun to eye them wearily.
They were such beautiful creatures, mysterious too. The only friend that never leaves Death's side.
How odd. I thought. Ravens don't usually travel in flocks.
It was then that I saw it. One of the Ravens had bright and searing golden eyes. I've never seen it before and never since, but I knew it for what it was. It was a symbol of imminent death. I scoffed at the Ravens; shot once to scatter them. They flew away leaving black feathers dancing to the ground. It was about time I got what I wanted, and if the world wanted a battle, I would give them a war.
Two turns later and five intersections I stopped dead in my tracks, my leather coat doing nothing to keep the chilling cold out, even though it was only November.
Ignoring the throbbing ache, I spun about to face my unseen "assailant," blood dripping from the gash on my face.
"So, you just going watch me, eh?" No one answered. I gave an exaggerated, exasperated breath and shook my head in mock disbelief.
"I thought I told you to remain in the bar," I said.
Even though I couldn't see him, I could clearly picture the look he must have been giving me right then. I rolled my eyes in response to the image in my head, though he couldn't tell because of my shades.
"You know, I ought to tie you to a tree until you learn how to follow orders," I said, reciting Skrymer's (my former mentor) most spoken threat against me. Of course, to execute the "punishment" she would've had to lay a hand on me... I was a slippery bastard.
A voice scoffed as he finally gave up and appeared from within the shadows. Dragonfly, his bizarre silver hair standing on ends in some places, his eyes seeming to shimmer like sapphires in the dark. He was holding his 6A-2456zp rifle in the ready with his right hand, the one with a white glove. His left hand had a black glove: both leather and fingerless. He nicknamed her 'Viper.' She was an older model, but unique. In all the battles we've fought, we had never come across anything like her.
The receiver is hiding behind the pistol grip as such saves weight giving the carrier much more speed in a fight. The grip on Dragon's rifle is one of fine laminate wood, with intricate carvings all around. She can hold up to 80 rounds. Dragon and I both had found her durable and reliable in a fight and he never let his Viper go, not even when he slept.
"You're alive." He remarked dryly: his lips slightly curved upwards as he flashed his perfect white teeth at me. I flicked him off and continued walking: my leather-gloved hands shoved into my pockets where a silver chain was. I pulled it out and wrapped it twice around my wrist. Dragon went on rambling. "You know, I was half-convinced I would have to drag your sorry ass outta there myself, fighting teeth and nail all the way." I rolled my eyes.
"Sure, you did." My sarcasm escaped my lips before I could stop it, but I didn't care. It was one of the things I liked about him. When he was around I didn't have to censor anything; I didn't have to be on my guard; I didn't have to hide. I could let my armour off for a moment and take a few painless breaths in my eternal hell.
Thank you.
I thought. I didn't have to say it. I didn't have to thank him for every little thing and neither did he. We were brothers, we didn't have to say it. We already knew. We were brothers through and through Tartarus and the bloody hounds Hades loved to throw at us, but we managed to pull through, always.
He was walking beside me, shoulder to shoulder, rambling on and on. He could for hours and didn't mind it when I didn't respond. Unlike others, he didn't take my silence offensively: my coldness personally. I wasn't directing it at him and he didn't care.
"Next time, I am tying you to a tree and unlike Starskrymer, I can outrun you." He made a face at me and chuckled. The sound smooth and ringing.
"Catch me if you can!" he mocked, running up ahead of me. I ran after him, my entire being barking in response. Despite that, a phantom of a smile played on my lips as I wiped at the blood trickling my face, just then starting to dry up.
Seven years later and I was still dead even with Dragon around me. I never healed. I never recovered and despite his act, neither did he.
"So," he grimaced as he no doubt noticed the lashes across my back as well. "What was it about this time? Was it Selene again?" I nodded. He growled deep in response as he dragged me to a nearby inn. "I don't know about you, but I am pretty exhausted. I say we call it a night already." He lied. I didn't call him out on it, because I could barely stand. Besides, he always won arguments, even when I was right.
So, he dragged me into a single-roomed inn, either the only thing they had available at such a late hour or Dragon chose it on purpose so I wouldn't be able to avoid him. I didn't ask. Without a sound, he shut the door: the smile instantly gone from his face.
"Explain." His voice had gone rigid. Next thing I knew, my face was in his paw of a hand. He was a couple of inches taller than me. I was a six foot four yet when I was amid my brothers, I always felt smaller, most of them at least a couple of inches larger. Leave it to me to find the only mutant bunch who dwarfed me. "Are you listening to me, Black?" He asked rhetorically, snatching my shades off. It bounced twice as it met the hard floor. Dragon brought my face closer to his and there was a certain urgency in his actions. "Who did this and why? Do you want me to kill anyone for you, brother?" He continued. I shook my head, slipping out of his grasp.
"I'm tired," I said simply. As I let my coat drop on the floor, followed by knives as I unstrapped them from my sore body. Dragon swore foully, no doubt from the awful looking marks on my back. I took a step towards the bed, two and launched myself on top of it.
"Get up!" Dragon barked, shaking me. I hissed at him. He hissed back. "I have to bandage up those wounds." I looked up at him, my defective eyes locking with his honey-ones; he didn't even flinch.
"I'm too tired. I'll do them when I wake up." I would never have admitted to that because it would imply that I was vulnerable and open for attack, but it was Dragon. I never outright lied to him. He just sighed:
"You're hopeless." I ignored him: my eyes drooped. Two minutes later, I hissed at the stinging on my back.
"What are you doing?" I jeered at him through the pain, but once that initial sting faded, relief came pouring in. He didn't answer, and I was too tired to argue.
Slowly, despite myself, darkness washed over me. First, I lost feeling in my limbs, my eyelids were of steel for all the weight they possessed. My world shifted in and out of focus and then... and then I faded.
All too soon, the images came back to haunt me. The same memories that had plagued me for years: ever-lasting: eternal. Seven years later and her voice, her lullaby haunted me day and night, while I fought to forget. My mind, a treacherous beast, would not allow it and so my suffering commenced. The dream began.
She sat on top of the piano, in her white fluffy dress. The moonlight shimmered across her angelic, petite features. In her eyes, the stars shimmered in a honey-dipped galaxy where everything was sweet and innocent, just like her. Nobody had to fight. No one had to suffer. The world was bright and vibrant and... fun. Adults cared for their progeny, there was no bloodshed, no pain and agony. The children in that beautiful world of hers were not killers, condemned as the damned. It was beautiful there in her eyes and I was certain that if given the chance I would have chosen to live there: forever in her eyes.
She was singing: every note perfection: the voice of an angel. She always sang like a mockingbird, never tiring.
[Verse 2]
Little boy is too scared to love
Stars watching from above
Yet he seems forever lost
His little heart filled with frost
September in the bloom, the leaves began their transformation. I was back at my childhood paradise, my solace. Behind her was the garden full of roses we had planted together. Their perfume soaked the air around us, like a beautiful disease. The night was cloudless, the wind soothing.
I stood in the threshold of my old room, the place so impeccably clean, except for my work desk, overtaken by papers and piles of books. My black grand piano stared out into a huge window, a violin and a flute kept on the left side.
She noticed me and turned around, her melody dying. She smiled and uttered the same damn line she always said without fail:
"Why don't you come sing with me?"
She started over and I, like a fool, sang with her. When I sang, it wasn't my teenage self that did so, but a child's voice. I was a child again and as the melody climaxed I moved closer to the piano: a harmony of three, the two of us singing and the piano.
[Verse 1]
The moon shines the way for the boy, lost
His little heart filled with frost
And so, he wanders adrift in his dreams
Until he sees the raven flying at the seams
[Verse 2]
Little boy is too scared to love
Stars watching from above
Yet he seems forever lost
His little heart filled with frost
[Verse 3]
Raven stands on the tree beyond
Looking out from the pond
And so, the raven falls in love
Stars watching from above
The melody began to die and with it, she flickered in and out. I stopped the piano:
[Verse 4]
Raven chips at the boy's frost
The ice of the boy is lost
And so, the Raven steals his heart
His mask torn apart
"Please don't leave." I pleaded, hating myself for it every time. Her response was the same.
"I'm sorry." She said.
She left, and the music, the magic I loved, died out with her.
The music that had left me sane, abandoned me and so my world was that of silence and even though I really wanted to play, to get that pressure out somehow, I couldn't do it. I just lost it. The inspiration to write my music, the magic also betrayed me: and it, too, had left me feeling without.
I opened my eyes to the blinding abyss of an endless road, my head lolling against the window of Bullet, Dragonfly's car, and main mode of transportation. A silver goddess on the road, the fighter (a lot like an SUV back in the 21st Century except it floated off ground) was noiseless when it ran. She was 5 years-old and featured edges so sharp it could impale people dumb enough to get in the way. It can go from 0-60 in under a second and has a top speed of 500 mph. Bullet came fully equipped with bullet-proof glass, a parachute, a grappling hook, a turret, adaptive camouflage, and two missile launchers. Overall, an assassins' dream come true. It had to be considering the ridiculous price at which we bought her, though she was worth every coin.
"Looky who finally woke up." Dragon teased without even looking at me but sobered when I didn't smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." I shrugged as I checked the bandages. "How long?" I didn't have to specify what I meant, he already knew.
"You've been out for about 6 hours." I nodded once.
"Spit it out," I said. He dared give me a puzzled look.
"I know you want to tell me something, so spit it out," I said again. It was true, there was a certain conflict that was all too plain and obvious through his eyes.
"Fine." He sighed, disgusted. "You were muttering in your sleep, again." He didn't look at me, his chin resting on top of the wheel as he accelerated.
200mph, 250mph, 300mph...
I didn't speak. He continued, softer still. So soft that I could barely make out the words over the rush of the wind.
"You were calling her name again."
Silence. My entire world stopped, neither one of us spoke as I craned my neck to take in the view outside, so colourful it burned my eyes. Tension rose in the car as it continued to accelerate over the deserted road.
300 mph, 325mph, 350mph.
Phantom bile rose to choke me, but I clamped it down studying the scenery outside. I clenched my jaw to keep myself from saying something I would have surely regretted. Dragonfly didn't stop there.
"I miss her too." He said. At that point, I was contemplating the consequences of launching myself out of the car and ending my misery at once. As if sensing that thought, Dragonfly locked the doors of the car, confining me.
The dreadful silence echoed once more as the trees passed us by the red, yellow, orange, and what little there was of green blending together in a canvas of blue and white.
I ignored Dragon's comment and focused instead on the forest across. Some might say, it was wonderous, colossal, dark, and prospering even as it died. The chestnut and alder trees dominated the canopy with occasional openings in their crowns for the light to pass through. What used to be dark greens overtook the lower levels of the woods, sometimes interrupted by florae and flowers adding a tinge of variation.
"Black." Dragon inquired, breaking me out of my trance.
"What?" I said, straining my ears to listen to the chaotic orchestra of the wilderness beyond us.
"I think, you should move on." He finally said, and I knew he was right. He was always right.
"I think..." He faltered, taking a deep breath.
"I think, you should learn to smile through your pain." He said. That was what she used to say too. He locked gazes with me.
"You can't go on living like this." I arched a cynical brow at him.
"Like what?!" I taunted. He motioned to my wretched state in frustration.
"Like taunting death every other hour!" He was yelling. "You know how long it has been since you've been without bandages?! I'll tell you how long, over two years! That's how long." He was rambling, frantic.
"I'm not suicidal," I mumbled, though I knew he was right. I have been doing my best to avoid anything that had to do with my sitting my ass down, doing nothing.
"Then what do you call this?!" He argued, appearing as though he was contemplating choking me where I sat. I didn't blame him.
"Hazard of the business," I said nonchalant, while colour flooded Dragon's cheeks in anger.
"Are you listening to me?!" He argued.
"Yes," I answered. "I am listening to you." I continued on, "but you know what? I'm sick and tired of you acting like I'm defective. I can take care of myself. I don't need you to baby me, Dragon." His eyes narrowed, and I could swear his nostrils flared.
"I don't need anyone," I said after a minute of silence.
"Said like a true, spoiled teenager." I glared at him, my shades off so he could see it.
"I am League born." I reminded him. League born meaning that unlike him and the others I never had a family, before I became an assassin. I never had a childhood. I was damned from the moment of my birth and thrown in with the other babies to either die or survive and I stupidly chose the latter. Dragonfly had a name before we had given him his codename, but I didn't. I only ever was Black. Dead, like the colour. "I had never been spoiled."
"You don't mean what you said." He ignored the last comment.
"Yes, I do." I disputed.
"But you loved her!" He argued. "You love her still!"
"No," I said simply, my voice growing chiller the more I spoke. "I fucking hate her," I said.
"Liar." He accused, but I shook my head.
"I hate everyone who fucking leaves," I told him.
Because they always take a piece of me with them. I thought to myself.
The rest of the ride went in silence, as my words ate at me, but I did mean them. They were the truth.
The rest of the ride was silent. Neither of us spoke, while my words ate at me as the rodents had done in the cell. I ached to apologize, but I did not. I meant what I said. I did not need anyone, at least I did not want to, because people leave.
Everyone leaves at one point or another, so I refused to rely on anyone, least they break me.