In a dimly lit stone hallway, illuminated only by flickering torches, six shadowy figures moved silently towards a weathered wooden door. One of them knelt down beside the lock, skillfully manipulating the tools in hand to coax it open. After a tense moment, the lock yielded, allowing four of the figures to slip inside, while the remaining three stood vigilant, guarding the entrance.
'we need to kill this b#tch'
The four figures, concealed behind masks, exchanged glances, silently acknowledging one another as they gripped their weapons tightly, ready for the job they needed to complete.
Guiding the group down the corridor towards their destination, the most seasoned member took the lead. With unwavering determination, he and his companions were well-aware of their purpose. Their king had entrusted them with a singular mission, and they were resolute in its fulfilment.
For years, he had navigated the shadowy streets of the city, so when a disruptive group of four appeared, stirring up trouble, the king was determined to rid himself of them. What better solution than to dispatch his elite squadron to eliminate the threat?
As they approached the final door, which led to a bedroom, their eyes fell upon it: the sight of white hair peeking out from beneath the covers of the bed.Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted the two men following closely behind.
'wait im missing one'
Then, his gaze fell upon the open door behind them alongside the corridor, evidence that someone had already ventured inside to assess the situation. He felt a swell of pride at the efficiency with which his team was working, diligently inspecting each room to ensure the safety of everyone involved.
Three people exchanged nods before stepping into the bedroom. They were aware that the final person would likely join them soon, so they didn't hesitate. Why prolong the situation when they could swiftly accomplish their task and leave before the black-haired woman discovered them?
As they stepped into the bedroom, they completely missed the telltale streak of blood trailing out of the room they left someone in. The crimson stain meandered across the cold stone floor, seeping into the corridor beyond. a lone hand, twitching faintly, protruding from the partially open door.
The trio proceeded cautiously, fully aware of the woman's formidable power. Disturbing her slumber could spell doom for each of them. They moved to positioned themselves on different sides of the bed,
As the intruder's breath hitched, a hand swiftly pressed against their mouth, stifling any potential outcry. In the dim moonlight filtering through a crack in the curtains, a glint of silver flashed, accompanied by a crimson spill. Gradually, the intruder's gaze dulled, their eyes losing their luster. Meanwhile, the curtains now bore an additional feature: a pair of legs protruding from the bottom, barely discernible in the darkness.
As the duo positioned themselves at opposite ends of the bed, their gazes met, but the leader's expression betrayed his confusion. He scanned the room, convinced he had entered with two companions, not one. With the rest of his team nowhere in sight, his focus returned to his sole companion. He caught a fleeting movement, but before he could process it, his ally's hands shifted, causing the sword to clatter loudly to the ground, startling the leader.
'this idiot what is he doing? making such a loud noise, thank
god…she…didn't…hear..it'
As the leader observed the scene, he couldn't help but notice a subtle movement from his ally, who gradually lifted his hands toward his neck. A strange liquid oozed through his fingers, its colour obscured by the dimly lit room, but the leader could discern fear in his ally's eyes. With a growing sense of unease, the subordinate withdrew one hand from his neck and pointed directly at the leader, his expression a silent plea for help or understanding.
As the moonlight illuminated the liquid-soaked finger, he finally discerned its crimson hue—blood. In that chilling moment, he understood that his teammate's gesture wasn't directed at him, but towards something lurking behind him, sending a shiver down his spine.
Before he could even comprehend what was happening, a sword had plunged into his chest, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body. Try as he might, he found himself unable to utter a sound, his cries stifled by the gentle yet firm hand covering his mouth.
Amidst his muffled cries of pain, confusion, and fear, a soft, soothing female voice whispered tenderly by his ear, offering a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos.
"Give me all of your memories and I'll let you live"
The voice that spoke held no hint of emotion; it was as if death itself had found a way to speak. Faced with her merciless ultimatum, offering his possessions in exchange for his life, he seized the opportunity. Of course, he couldn't relinquish everything; he had to ensure his own survival in this desolate wasteland.
In his state of confusion and pain, he reluctantly nodded in agreement and began to transfer half of his belongings. As he glanced down, he noticed the sword swaying in tandem with the rhythm of his own heartbeat, which was dangerously close to faltering under the imminent strike. It was a calculated move, aimed at ensuring he wouldn't succumb to a single blow.
"all of it…not half"
He got caught red-handed, and his dishonesty was laid bare. The woman, with a slight adjustment of the sword, made it clear she meant business. He knew he had to come clean and give her everything he owed, or else it would be the end of him.
Once more, he nodded in resignation, watching as his entire life's collection vanished before his eyes. He'd handed over everything to her, relinquishing all the years he'd spent here. It was astonishing how one woman – well, perhaps two, considering the one asleep before him might have been a conspirator – could strip him of everything he held dear. Peering closer, he discerned only a mass of white hair peeking out from beneath the bedcovers, with strategically placed pillows to mimic the shape of a woman.
'it… was… always a trap'
As his blood ebbed away, he felt the toll it took on his body, struggling to stay conscious. Despite the dire situation, he clung to a glimmer of hope, knowing she promised to mend him. The sensation of the blade withdrawing from his flesh sent him collapsing to the ground, his legs giving way beneath him. With fading vision, he gazed upward, only to be met with a bone-chilling sight: a pair of crimson eyes glimmering faintly in the darkness, fixed upon him with a menacing intensity.
He sat slumped against the wall, his breaths labored and choked with pain as he fought desperately to cling to life, his hand pressed tightly against his wound. As he saw his impending doom, he reached out towards the figure who had turned their back on him, already beginning to exit the bedroom.
'She lied….'
***
As the woman glided silently down the corridor, she finally arrived at the doorway leading to the hallway. There, her gaze fell upon two cloaked figures, looming over the lifeless forms of three individuals. With a subtle nod of acknowledgment, the hooded figures conveyed their reverence towards her. Together, the trio departed, the woman leading the way, with the other two trailing close behind.
'thats another assassination attempt i stopped. Nephis you owe me'