Phantom Assassin (2015 version)

Chapter 04

Tall buildings rose high above Trace, and, as the dark alleyway appeared before him, so did Hailey and four other assassins. They were all dressed in black cloaks, same as him.

Hailey turned to count her group members, smiling brightly at Trace in turn. This earned her an eye-roll.

A man turned into the alley and headed straight for Trace, a bloody knife in his right hand. Trace leaped forward, sliding under the man's legs. The man tumbled forward.

"It's your first mission, Trace. Be on the lookout for oncoming threats," Hailey warned, drawing out a knife from inside her cloak. She bent her knees and whipped around, sprinting away. The rest of the assassins followed her.

Trace watched as they left, wondering if he was supposed to follow, too. Was she leaving him on purpose, or was this the way she meant for him to follow?

Your group has migrated to mission area, his Modifier alerted him.

Am I supposed to kill this guy? Trace asked the Machine in his head. When he got no response, he pulled a knife from his cloak and flipped it around in his hand. Guess I have no choice, huh?

"Please don't kill me! I'm innocent!" The man cowered to the ground, dropping his knife. Tears dripped down his cheeks.

"How annoying," Trace mumbled, taking a few steps towards the man.

No communicating with your victims. It violates Phantom procedures, his Modifier warned him coldly.

Wasn't planning on it, Trace scoffed, frowning. He stared down at the shaking man. He looked so weak, so innocent. Trace's face warped in disgust. Why would such a nice-looking man commit murder?

Trace lifted his knife and flung it quickly at the man's defenseless skull. The sharp blade split the man's head in half and stayed there. Blood rippled down the sides of his face, skin peeled at his broken bone. A scream was stuck on his lips, his mouth strained open. A perfect example of rigor mortis.

Group mission completed. Automatic spawn to base, his Modifier recalled, activating the teleportation device. Trace floated from the ground, frowning at the man sleeping in his own blood.

Maybe the next mission will be more of a challenge, Trace thought skeptically, sighing. His body tingled with the intense thrill of holding a knife. A strange, addictive feeling overcame him and a smile slithered onto his lips, satisfied with his selfish, careless deed.

Trace was teleported back into the dining hall, where his group was sitting, chattering away and laughing. Hailey saw him and waved him over.

"How was your first mission, Trace?" An older-sounding man smirked, wrapping his arm casually over Hailey's shoulder. "You didn't get lost, did you?"

Trace's skin pricked. Affection wasn't allowed at Phantom. His Modifier informed him of this--he didn't like this guy at all.

"Lost?" Trace purred, smiling. "Of course not."

The group was quiet as Trace moved closer to Hailey, flicking the guy's arm off her shoulders. The guy hopped down and flipped his hood up, revealing his identity to the group. An angry snarl found its way through his lips.

Trace laughed, flipping his hood up as well. The group gasped when they saw his face, as if they hadn't seen it before. Didn't they see his identity when he turned on the feature?

"Dereck, don't provoke him," Hailey warned, adjusting her hood nervously over her face. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not she should take it off.