Phantom Assassin (2015 version)

Chapter 03

Mylo woke up in a pile of moldy hay. His neck was sore, like something was pierced through it. He attempted lifting his hand up to feel this strange pain, but soon figured he couldn't move.

Light glided through the windows in ribbons, dancing off the dry parts of the hay. A chicken "bawked" quietly from the loft above Mylo. He looked up without moving his body and a water droplet landed on his cheek. Sloshing noises suddenly broke the silence.

Mylo felt like he was in danger, somehow. He knew something was coming. He was aware that he wasn't alone, and he couldn't move.

"Mylo," a voice boomed from above him. This seemed to be an order. Mylo's body moved of its own accord, the pain in his neck growing worse. He climbed up the rickety ladder, onto the loft.

The wood wasn't smooth, so shards of wood pierced through Mylo's bare feet. He winced as he felt the warm blood oozing out.

The large black tub was filled to the top with water and the cloaked man held the chicken securely under the water. Mylo watched as the chicken flapped its beak, bubbles flying everywhere, until the animal stopped moving, eyes wide open, and floated from the man's grasp. Dead.

"You are now a Phantom Assassin, Mylo," the man shook the water from his gloves and stood up straight to look at Mylo.

"I'm a Phantom Assassin," Mylo whispered to himself, confused. The words didn't register in his head. Nothing made sense, except for the dull pain coursing through his body, taking over.

"Good," the man smiled. "The Machine seems to be steadily stealing away your memories. You don't even understand what I'm saying, do you?"

Mylo felt numb, like all of his limbs were growing out of proportion, but they weren't his own limbs. "The Machine?" He suddenly felt dizzy.

"Yes, Mylo. The Machine takes care of your memories so that you won't betray the organization. Phantom does it to all of its assassins," the man explained, knowing Mylo would forget all of this later.

"So, even you?" Mylo's eyes felt heavy. He felt sleepy. "Even... you... had to go through... the Machine?"

The man reached his hand over his head and lifted his hood out of his face. A scar ran through his left eye in a jagged line. "Mylo, I don't remember anything from my past, but I think it's for the best. What Phantom tells us, we have to believe. It's priority to have killer instincts. That's all Phantom allows you to have."

Mylo fell to his knees and his neck snapped up, forcing him to stare at the ceiling. "I have to forget... everything?"

"Yes, Mylo. That's a good thing. You won't have any feelings of love, possession, or longing. You'll just have your power of revenge and anger. Hatred. That's all assassins need." The man's voice grew quiet. "I still have longing, and mercy. But nobody knows that, except for me, and now you. You won't remember any of this, but Mylo, you need to harbor some sort of feeling other than hatred, or the killer instinct will overpower you, and you will eventually consume yourself. For the sake of the human inside, you must believe you will retain your memories, even if you know it's impossible. And, you'll know if you are going insane if your appearance makes a tragic change. Remember this. Remember."

Mylo swayed to the side, falling on the floor. His head filled with a strange hollow sensation, like everything he knew was all a lie. Everything was erased. Gone. His sister was just a face to a foreign name. His mother was only a person he saw being slaughtered.

He shut his eyes and let the feeling of total nothingness consume him.

~~~~~

He opened his eyes and a grin subconsciously found its way across his lips. His mind was absent of any memories, any happy moments, any sad tragedies. He felt reborn, recharged, and bloodthirsty.