-----------------------------------------------------------
In the dead of night, a shadow moved with purpose through the dimly lit corridors of a grand manor. The manor's silence was punctuated only by the soft echoes of footsteps and the occasional flicker of lamp light, held by maids making their rounds. The intruder navigated the labyrinthine hallways with the stealth of a wraith, each step silent and deliberate.
Clad in a dark, hooded cloak that blended seamlessly with the shadows, the assassin's presence was as elusive as a whisper. In her hand, she wielded a blade named Wednesday—a dagger with a hidden mechanism near the hilt that could release a deadly poison with a simple press. The weapon was a testament to her precision and lethality.
She moved with practiced ease, avoiding the maids by melting into the darkness whenever their paths crossed. Her movements were fluid, each action calculated to avoid detection. The manor's intricate architecture became a familiar terrain under her skilled guidance, a domain where she was both predator and ghost.
After what felt like an eternity of traversing the manor's winding halls, she arrived at a grand door. It loomed before her, its opulence suggesting that it was the entrance to her target's quarters. With a calculated smile hidden beneath her hood, she approached the door, her heart steady and her focus sharp.
Carefully, she reached for the door handle, attempting to turn it silently. The door creaked slightly, but the sound was swallowed by the oppressive quiet of the night. As she worked, a sinister presence stirred within her mind. The dark god's laughter echoed, taunting and mocking her with its cruel voice.
"Why not kill them all?" the god's whispers sneered. "The maids, the guards—they're all so vulnerable. You could make this night truly memorable."
The voice was familiar and unsettling, a constant companion in her darkest moments. Yet, it was a sound she had learned to ignore. With a scoff of contempt, she pushed the door open just enough to slip through, her focus unshaken by the god's malevolent suggestions. She was here for a specific purpose, and no amount of dark temptation would sway her from her path.
The door closed silently behind her, and she stepped into the room, her eyes scanning for her target.
Within the dimly lit room, the target lay ensconced in the soft embrace of his bed sheets, utterly defenseless and vulnerable. His breathing was slow and steady, a stark contrast to the danger that was about to befall him.
The intruder moved with ghostly precision, her footsteps barely making a sound as she glided towards the bed. Her presence was nearly imperceptible, a wraith in the night. Without hesitation or remorse, she approached the sleeping figure.
As she neared, she gently covered the man's mouth with one hand, her grip firm and unyielding. The sudden pressure woke him, and he struggled against the hand that stifled his cries. His muffled screams echoed within the confines of the room, but no sound escaped to the outside world.
Eve leaned close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered soothingly, "Relax. It will all be over soon." Her voice was calm, almost comforting, despite the brutal reality of the situation.
With a fluid motion, she drew the dagger, Wednesday, from its sheath. The blade glinted ominously in the low light. With a swift and decisive strike, she drove the dagger into the man's neck. The mechanism near the hilt clicked, releasing the lethal poison into the wound.
The man's body convulsed slightly, but the poison acted quickly, ensuring that the end was swift and merciful. Blood seeped from the wound, soaking into the pristine linens of his bed, marking the completion of her mission.
As the life drained from the target, a dark satisfaction rippled through Eve. However, the sinister god's presence within her mind was anything but pleased. It roared with pleasure, its voice a cacophony of desire and hunger.
"More! More!" the god screamed in her head, the force of its voice nearly overwhelming. "You have done well, but there are so many more to claim. Continue, feast upon the chaos!"
Eve felt the god's malevolent energy swirling around her, its demands insistent and cruel. She clenched her jaw, pushing the dark whispers to the back of her mind. She had fulfilled her contract, and for tonight, that was enough.
With a final glance at the now lifeless target, Eve slipped back into the shadows, her movements as silent and precise as ever. The night still held many secrets, and she would not be swayed by the god's hunger. For now, her mission was complete, and the darkness awaited her departure.
With the target's life extinguished and the sinister god's voice fading to a dull roar in her mind, the assassin moved with practiced ease through the shadows of the manor. Her cloak billowed softly behind her as she glided through the corridors, the night's silence a comforting companion.
As she neared the exit, she pulled back her hood, revealing her face. Her striking features, framed by dark hair, were lit only by the faint glow of the lamps scattered throughout the manor. Her eyes, sharp and cold, scanned her surroundings with a calculated precision. This was Eve, the master assassin whose very name sent shivers down the spines of those who knew it.
Eve was known for her nonchalant arrogance and deadly efficiency. Her demeanor was carefree, almost detached, as if the weight of her kills were nothing more than a passing inconvenience. Yet beneath her casual exterior was a mind honed to perfection, capable of navigating the most perilous situations with ease.
She reached the manor's entrance and paused, her ears catching the faintest sounds of the outside world. Aggro, her loyal steed, was waiting just beyond the shadows. The massive horse's sleek, black coat blended into the night, a perfect complement to Eve's own dark attire.
As she mounted Aggro and urged him into motion, her thoughts returned to the sinister god that haunted her. The god's demands were relentless, its whispers a constant presence in her mind. "There are always more to kill," it taunted. "Why stop now?"
Eve brushed the god's voice aside with a mental shrug. She was used to its insistent hunger, a shadow that followed her every step. For now, she had completed her mission, and that was enough. The night was still young, and she had her own path to follow.
As they rode into the darkness, the manor receded into the distance, its grandeur and opulence a stark contrast to the blood that had been spilled within its walls. Eve's thoughts were already drifting to her next task, her mind a well-oiled machine of strategy and skill.
In the world she inhabited, where kings and queens played their games of power and the shadow of war loomed ever-present, Eve was a force to be reckoned with. Her blades, each with its own name and purpose, were her tools of choice. Tonight, it was Wednesday that had fulfilled its role, but she knew that each blade would have its turn.
As she and Aggro vanished into the night, Eve's silhouette was swallowed by the darkness, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked in the shadows. The sinister god's presence was still there, but for now, Eve was in control, moving through the world with a confidence born of countless successful missions and an unyielding will.
As dawn approached, its pale light began to pierce the darkness of the night. Eve and Aggro arrived at the sprawling kingdom of Exist, a city of contrasts where crime and corruption had seeped into every corner. Once a thriving kingdom, it was now known more for its lawlessness than its regal splendor. Some whispered that it was no longer a kingdom but merely a den of thieves and criminals. Despite its reputation, it had a functioning government, albeit one run by individuals no cleaner than those they governed.
As Eve guided Aggro through the city's gates, she could feel the weight of many eyes upon her. The streets were alive with activity, though the nature of that activity was far from innocent. The air was thick with the scent of beer and smoke, and the sounds of laughter and raucous music filled the streets. In this place, Eve was a known figure—revered by some and reviled by others. Her reputation had preceded her, and the whispers of her presence followed her through the crowd.
She navigated the bustling streets, her presence commanding attention despite her nonchalant demeanor. As she moved through the maze of alleys and markets, she came to a district where the atmosphere was markedly different. Here, the streets were filled with drunken men staggering about, their hands clutching frothy mugs of beer. Women stood on street corners, their flirtatious laughter and seductive gestures drawing in customers. The air was heavy with the intoxicating blend of revelry and vice.
Eve continued on until she arrived at a building with a sign swinging lazily in the breeze. The establishment was known as The Ebon Chalice, a notorious tavern where deals were made and secrets were shared. She dismounted Aggro and pushed open the door, stepping into the dimly lit interior.
Inside, the tavern was alive with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The patrons were a motley crew, many cloaked in hoods and shadows. Eve's keen eyes recognized them as members of her own profession—assassins and mercenaries for hire. Their presence was a testament to the city's reputation as a haven for those who lived by the edge of a blade.
Eve made her way through the crowd, her stride purposeful and confident. She approached a door guarded by two burly men, their expressions stern and unyielding.
Without hesitation, she spoke with a casual tone, "I've completed a contract from Green. I'm here for my reward."
The guards exchanged glances, their faces unreadable. After a brief, silent conversation, they stepped aside, allowing her access to the room beyond. Eve pushed open the door and entered, finding herself in a modest office cluttered with stacks of paperwork.
At the desk sat Green, a figure known for his business acumen and cold efficiency. The room was a stark contrast to the tavern's lively atmosphere, filled with the organized chaos of documents and files. Green looked up from his work, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Eve.
"Well done," Green said, his voice measured and devoid of unnecessary warmth. "The information I received was accurate and you have slain the target. Sit. Let's discuss your reward."
Eve took a seat across from him, her expression relaxed despite the gravity of the situation. She had completed her task, and now she awaited her payment—a familiar routine in the world she inhabited.