The Assassin

Chapter 1

"OW!"

I flew back as my trainer kicked me right in the stomach. I tried to stand up but a foot planted onto my chest, slowly pushing me down. I gave up and hung my head back with frustration. I looked up to see my trainer, Oliver Quelch, smile down at me. He offered me a hand. I scowled and took it. "You put up a good fight today, Paula," he said to me.
I pouted. "No, you beat me. AGAIN."

"Well, you just need to practice more! And I'm better than you so I don't expect you to beat me."

"Go easier, then."

"You're not gonna get better that way, Crock."

"Don't call me by my last name, QUELCH."

"You aren't allowed to call ME by MINE. Now go clean yourself up and go home for today; training's over."

"What? How come we're ending 40 minutes early?"
"Because," he started explaining. "You have a new assignment tomorrow."

"Okay. What time do I have to be here for the brief?"

"7:40 p.m."

"Another night mission?"

"Yes. It IS your specialty."

"I do fine in daylight."

"Last time you slipped up and got caught, making you have to go kill your target the next day. We want it to be done in one day."

I sighed. "Okay. One day you're going to have to assign me a day mission, you know that, right?"

He held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm not in charge of that! I don't assign missions, I just train you and others."

I scoffed. "You can convince them."

"Why do you want a day assignment so bad anyway?"

I held my head high. "No reason. Going home now. Bye."

"Okay. Bye, Paula!"

I quickly waved goodbye, got my bag full of my supplies, and walked out of the building.

--

I arrived at my home: a small white house with a slanted roof, surrounded by a bunch of green bushes with pink roses growing on them. I entered it, setting my bag in the corner by the door. I went straight to the bathroom and showered. Afterward, I went to my bathroom and got changed, though I had nothing to do. At my age (which was 19), I was supposed to be in college, but what with my current situation I wasn't. Assassins don't go to college. They don't even have a job unless you count being an assassin as one. I just sat down on my bed, the white sheets and blanket soft and poofy. I pulled out one of my pistols, my favorite one. I started cleaning it, lightly dusting it off with a white cloth, my long blonde hair brushing it with a light touch. This gun brought back memories. Not memories I should be particularly fond of though. After all, this is the exact weapon that made my life what it is today.

--

10 years ago

I was sitting on the couch, watching Alice in Wonderland with my older sister, Kara. She laughed. "The Cheshire Cat is so cool. I wish I could disappear like him."

I giggled. "No way, that's impossible! No one can just evaporate into thin air."

She pulled me in for a hug. "I know, sis. But I'm still a little girl, so I can dream and imagine it."

"You're not LITTLE. You're already 13!"
"That's not old, Paula."

"It's not little, either."

"Oh, shut up and watch the mov-"

She was cut off by screams and... were those gunshots?! I shot up to my feet but was immediately pushed down by Kara's tan hands. "No, sis. Hide under the couch. I'll go check what it is. I'll come back for you, alright? Just stay put. DON'T come out until I tell you to! Got it?"

I pursed my lips. She looked at me more sternly. "Do you understand?"

I quickly nodded my head and crawled under the couch, where there was just enough room for me if I tucked my legs into my chest. There was no room for anyone else. Once my older sister saw I was safely tucked away, she smiled at me softly. And then I watched her stand up and run towards the screams and loud noises, her black hair the last part of her I saw. I waited a couple of minutes. And then some more. And more. And more. Until I heard a noise that would never leave my mind. I heard Kara. Kara screaming. And then followed by a single gunshot. And then the screams ended. I pulled my legs in closer to me. I hoped what I thought happened wasn't true. But I didn't dare get out from under the couch. I did what I was told: stay put until she comes back to tell me it's safe. I didn't move from my hiding spot, not even the slightest twitch. I was unsure of how many minutes had passed, but eventually, I heard overlapping voices. I was fully alert, ready to run if I had to. Then, I heard more gunshots. I pulled my legs closer to me.

Suddenly, the couch was flipped over. I closed my eyes tightly and stayed in a ball. But I was not shot, or even hurt. I slowly opened one eye, then the other. A bald man with smooth, dark skin held out his large hand out to me. I stared at him with large, dark gray eyes. "Come," the man said. "We'll keep you safe."

What if he's lying? I thought. Maybe he's one of the people who invaded my home. I looked up at him and shook my head. "We didn't hurt your family. We're here to help," he told me.

I shut my eyes. I didn't want to look at him. How could I trust him? "Sweetie, we didn't kill your parents and sister, but we've killed the ones who have."

That caught my attention quickly. I looked at the man. "Dead?" I whispered.

He lowered his head and nodded. "I'm sorry, kid."

I pursed my lips. If he was telling the truth, then I had to see for myself. Also, I had nowhere else to go. I took his firm hand and gripped it. "Where are you taking me?" I asked under my breath.

He smiled down at me. "Somewhere safe. Somewhere you can call home for now."

And as we were leaving my house, we passed the room where all of it happened. I beckoned the bald man to stop. I let go of his hand and walked over. My mother's body was on a chair, blood soaking her stomach. My father was lying on the ground, face down, right in front of my mom's dead body, as if running to save her. He was too late, because now he had four bullet shots in his back, forming a large blood pool around him. Next, I saw the body of the person I adored the most. My sister, Kara Crock. I ran over to her body. I touched it gingerly, but it was lifeless. She was lying on the floor as well, but at the foot of the bed. She had a single bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. I turned around and saw the body of a man right in front of my sister's body. I walked over to it. He now was dead, also shot in the head. I looked down at him, searching his body.

Then my eyes landed on something. Two black pistols, one of them his hand laid right on top of. That must be the gun that killed Kara, I thought. I bent down towards it and took it in my small olive hands. Then I took the other one. I looked at the bald man. "Can I keep them?" I asked.

He looked worried but said, "Of course."

I walked back over to the man with dark skin. Since my hands were full, I just followed him. And little did I know, the place he was taking me to was where I would be made the best assassin.