Drones flew in the skies. They simultaneously checked every nook and corner, ensuring that no crimes would happen under strict security.
Morning light infiltrated the glass walls of the city library.
It was quiet every morning.
The usual flood of people doesn't come until late afternoon and evening.
A hand slammed on the wooden desk before me. It rattled the cup of a recently finished hot chocolate, causing it to flip on its side.
The person responsible for causing a ruckus so early in the morning was my co-worker, Rory. Under his hand, I could see the article from the newspaper he had just read.
In this day and age, Rory preferred to read from the newspaper instead of keeping himself updated with the latest tea from the worldwide web.
He was old school, and working with him in the city library showed how much he wasn't into social media except for dating applications.
Narrowing his gaze, Rory was ready to elaborate on what he found most interesting in the paper today.
I already had a glimpse of the title, the butterflies in my stomach floating ahead before Rory could voice out his excitement.
"The Queen of Assassins strikes again," he squealed and then clapped his hands to applaud like he was congratulating the person in the article for a job well done.
"The title itself is magnificent."
I nodded, feigning interest in what he was about to say, and pulled the clip he had taken the time to cut out from the newspaper.
A photo of a masked woman holding a sword in one hand was posted below the title.
I couldn't help but smirk at their effort to portray the mysterious woman behind these planned killings.
"I hear you," I gushed, briefly skimming on the recent article.
Without caring what was fact and fiction, I pretended to be engrossed in reading various parts of the written piece.
I don't personally know the writer, but whoever she was, she made the person branded as the 'Assassin Queen' look like a hero.
A brief background of the man found dead at G-79 confirmed what everyone must have already suspected.
This assassin had reduced the number of criminals one by one.
Every week, there was always a chosen victim. Sometimes the hunt would last more than a week.
Unlike journalists and reporters, finding a target for an assassin requires research and a thorough background check.
For this 'Assassin Queen,' that was a must. She wouldn't act unless the person were verified to be one of the bad guys.
"I bet this lady is hot," Rory mused. While he said that, his eyes were glued to the opening sliding doors, and in walked one of the regulars in the library.
Herme, an exact opposite of Rory, your average Jane, was Rory's 'secret' crush. Although, aside from Rory himself, everybody knew he liked her.
He had liked her since day one.
But the timid girl was always busy typing on her laptop aggressively after finishing one book and drinking her coffee.
The automatic sliding doors hissed as they closed after welcoming our first visitor for the day.
Herme sat in her usual spot in the corner, the farthest from the door, where it was usually noisy every time it slid open.
I pushed the article back to Rory, smiling broadly while excusing myself.
"Go and talk to her, Rory," I stated, hopping out from the high chair I was sitting on. "Or you will keep on missing your chance."
Rory blew out a sigh.
Like always, I knew it was futile to try and convince him about talking to Herme. He already claimed she would never like him back, and he would forever be her secret admirer.
Nobody wanted to say it out loud, but even Herme was probably aware of Rory's crush on her.
Walking past him, I patted his shoulders.
"I need to use the restroom and be back real quick."
Rory stared at Herme dreamily while I shook my head and headed for the restroom.
It wasn't far.
The restroom was accessible to all who frequent the library. Hence, it was imperative that I locked the doors before pressing the small button attached to the earpiece I was wearing.
"Damn," the person on the other end chuckled. I knew the article about the Assassin Queen didn't escape his grasp. "You look gorgeous in that photo."
I made a face, seeing my reflection in the mirror.
The glasses I wore gave me the look of pure innocence. A white blouse and a black skirt completed that appeal.
No one would suspect that the woman they praised and mocked in the article was the same person staring at her reflection.
"A worthy compliment from the person who didn't want to show his face to me."
Another chuckle.
"I'm not backing out of our deal. But it must be exactly one minute. If it would be less or more, it's off."
I scoffed.
"You're just too scared to show yourself, Wizardo," I paused to add a little drama. "I often wonder why."
There was silence.
I breathed out a sigh.
A long time ago, I had come to understand that people have reasons.
Everything they do has a specific purpose.
I may not understand why Wizardo was just always a voice and had never shown his face, but I knew he had his reasons.
That was cool.
I was cool with that too.
But it couldn't be help for one to be curious about his looks. His voice sounded beautiful, deep.
The image playing in my head was of a hunk I had often dreamed of saving me from drowning.
Then I would fall madly in love with that person.
Those were my thoughts upon initially working with Wizardo. But I never told him that.
Aside from embarrassing, I'd rather say it when we were face to face. At least I could see his reaction and not get a boat of silence and wonder what was running in his head.
I cleared my throat. The silence between us had gone long, and Rory might think the toilet had swallowed me whole by now.
"Alright, what do you have for me?"
"I'll send you the details via email." There was a pause, Wizardo hesitating for a minute. "You'll be attending a mafia party tomorrow at seven."