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Marked By Midnight

🇺🇸Dori_Mahoraga
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Synopsis
In the shadow of the night, where daylight's reflection is the only light, Vengeance emerges as the sole truth when the lips of Justice Lie. I am the bridge between justice and the corruption that festers within humanity. My mission? To uproot every last weed from the garden of society. My resolve is as unyielding as a steel trap, and I’m prepared to face the darkest of shadows, those that lurk beyond the reach of ordinary senses. But sometimes, even the strongest resolve is tested by forces too eerie to fathom. So buckle up, because if you think you’ve seen the depths of darkness, think again. Things are about to get intriguingly bizarre—and a little bit funny—on this wild ride into the unknown. Ready to dive in? Let’s see if my resolve can stand up to the absurdities lurking in the dark!
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Chapter 1 - Fall of First Pillar

"The target is moving northeast on a cruise ship. You've got an eight-minute window to get the job done," a sharp, no-nonsense voice crackled in my earpiece.

"Wow, an extra two minutes for a lunch break? You're too kind, beautiful," I chuckled, keeping my tone light.

"How is it that you men lie so shamelessly? Calling me beautiful when you've never even seen me. If you're going to lie, at least put some brains behind it," she shot back, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I've heard your voice, and that's all the evidence I need. Besides, am I lying?" I replied confidently, a grin tugging at my lips.

Now, if you're wondering why I'm flirting in the middle of a mission, let me introduce you to Eclipse. She's my informant, the voice in my ear that guides me through these jobs. I don't know her—yet—but that's something I plan on changing. After all, you've got to have goals, right? In this line of work I am not told the target's identity, only guided to his location when he is most vulnerable.

"This isn't what you should be focusing on during a job. At least try asking me out for a date when we are not on missions if you have the balls. Hahaha," she teased, her laughter echoing in my ear.

"I was born with them, sweetheart," I shot back, my tone firm.

"Boogey, you are twelve seconds from the target. Your eight-minute countdown starts now," she interrupted, snapping back to business.

"Give me a status update," I replied, shifting gears.

"The target has officers on his payrol, so expect at least 120 highly trained armed men on standby. If you act like an attention-seeking puppy, you will not make it out alive. Exercise extreme caution. I have hacked the security system and I'm opening the top left window now," she informed me. Sure enough, I spotted the open window—a subtle invitation.

"Going radio silent," I said, my voice steady.

"Stay safe, Boogey. I do not want to end up being asked on a date by a ghost," she quipped, but I could hear the underlying concern. Oh that's right, how rude of me of not introducing myself, I am the Boogeyman, this city's messenger of death.

I cut the link and took a deep breath, popping a piece of chewing gum into my mouth as I began the infiltration. I entered through the window with an athletic backflip, launching myself with a boost from a jetpack that shot off to the adjacent side of the ship as soon as I landed. The jetpack, now a decoy, attached itself to the hull, triggering the ship's security system. Perfect distraction—the entire vessel scrambling to neutralize a threat that wasn't even there, leaving me free to navigate to my target.

I landed on the second deck, my fist hitting the ground like a superhero. For a split second, I felt like Captain America.

"Intruder! Freeze! Show me your hands where I can see them!" barked two men, their pistols trained on me.

"Rookie-ass mistake," I mocked, my voice dripping with disdain.

From fifteen meters away, I hurled a knife. Midway through the air, it split into two, each blade finding its mark in the skulls of the two shit-heads before they could even register my words.

I darted through the ship's passages, bodies falling like dominoes as I cut them asunder with my black katana, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. By now, you're probably thinking I'm a cold-blooded killer. And you'd be right. I fuck up goons with a grin on my face and not a hint of remorse. This is my way of letting out my inner demons while ridding the city of its filth. Think of it as community service.

Navigating through the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, I moved swiftly with hardly a challenge and frankly it is quite disappointing. The target's location was at the end of a long hallway or as it were of the fifth deck. The entrance was guarded by two burly security officers who looked like they had been carved out of granite.

"Evening, gentlemen," I said with a grin, twirling the blade between my fingers. "Could any of you happen to know how I am going to enter that door behind you."

The guards exchanged glances, their hands moving to their holsters. "You got an invitation?" one of them asked, his voice gruff.

"Not exactly," I replied, lunging forward. The blade flashed in the dim light, and before they could react, I had disarmed them both. They crumpled to the floor, unconscious but barely alive. "The correct answer was: Over your dead bodies " I added, stepping over their prone forms.

The door to the Target loomed ahead,and I advanced towards it.

In this line of work, I am not told the identities of the targets,I am only led to their location when they are most vulnerable.

Within a few seconds I had reached the door to the target's grand suite. For a grand entry worthy of its name, I stuffed my chewed gum into the keyhole, pulled out my pistol, and fired. The shot ignited the gum, and the entire door exploded in a shower of splinters. These were my special rounds—when ignited, they turned anything they touched into a bomb.

As the remnants of the door were still smoldering, I entered the room my eyes scanning the room with a cold calculated confidence, every step echoing fearlessness and there he was—the mayor as it turns out, surrounded by sycophants and whores, indulging in the wealth he siphoned from the city. He had no idea that Dr. Death had came all the way from hell to tickle him for a little bit.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Mayor and the whole squad enjoying themselves," I said, my voice dripping with mockery as I strolled toward him, blade in hand. The dim light of the room cast long shadows, making the scene even more dramatic. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the faint hum of jazz music playing in the background.

He turned, eyes narrowing. "Who might you be, disturbing my peace?" He took confidence in numbers, his entourage of burly bodyguards shifting slightly, ready to pounce at his command. The Mayor's face, usually composed and smug, now showed a flicker of uncertainty.

I smirked, twirling the blade between my fingers with a practiced ease. The blade caught the light, glinting menacingly. "Oh, don't worry about your peace, Mr. Mayor. You're about to find eternal rest in it." My voice was calm, almost soothing, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air.

The Mayor's eyes darted around the room, calculating his options. His hand subtly moved towards the inside of his jacket, where I knew he kept a small pistol. "You think you can just walk in here and threaten me?" he spat, trying to regain his composure.

I took another step forward, my boots echoing on the marble floor. "Threaten? No, Mr. Mayor, this is a promise." I could see the fear creeping into his eyes, despite his bravado. The bodyguards tensed, their hands inching towards their concealed weapons.

The room fell silent, the only sound the soft clinking of glasses and the distant murmur of the city outside. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, heightening my senses. Every detail was crystal clear – the sweat beading on the Mayor's forehead, the slight tremor in his hand, the way his eyes flicked towards the nearest exit.

"Last chance, Mr. Mayor," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Call off your dogs and maybe, just maybe, you'll live to see another day." I could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between pride and survival.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to his bodyguards. They looked back at him, waiting for his command. The tension was palpable, a taut wire ready to snap. Finally, he raised his hand, signaling them to stand down. The bodyguards relaxed slightly, but their eyes never left me.

"Smart choice," I said, lowering the blade but keeping it ready. "Now, let's talk about your future… or lack thereof."