Forced Assassin (editing)

Run

[Run]

[Desmen's POV]

Shit, shit, shit, shit! What the hell did I do? The sirens blared in my ears, screaming against my brain.

The running of feet grew closer, louder. I ran, only my blades in hand. My breath became heavy, my feet running for their lives. I've just started a war that I wasn't ready for. No Iris, no place to run, no preparation.

"Over here!" A man called. More feet, more running. I saw them coming from both sides of the hallway. A few came at me, empty handed. Death sentenced Takers are not to be harmed before the process begins.

I cut my way through but my blades were no match for the never ending swarm. I was stuck between two mobs of people. No way to turn, no place to hide, I was trapped. This is my end...

[Iris's POV]

He fucking kissed me....

I finally relaxed and soaked in what he did. I thought Ron was just lying about him wanting me. I just don't understand why. Did I do something? Did I send him signals? I'd never understand...

I sat patient in the SUV, my feet on the dashboard, my hands folded behind my head. I checked the radio clock: "7:46 pm".

There was no specific time he expected this job to be done. I watched as the people moved so civilly. Father-son game of catch, mother-daughter playtime, dog fetching a stick for its master. Life was beautiful for them. Easy, happy, peaceful. Up until now that is.

It was getting late, bugs beginning to crowd their faces, searching for a place to land. Everyone retreated back inside, leaving the streets quiet once more. I saw another man, around his 70's, emerge from a old grey house. He shuffled along cane in hand, a permanent scowl across his lips. He placed an envelope into his mail box and looked from side to side down the street. He was my employer for the evening. He shuffled back inside, a smile now lacing his aged face.

I continued to sit and stare. The afternoon sun had set and the stars slowly appeared through the this sheet of vibrant orange and yellow.

The clock now read: "10:00 pm" It was a Sunday. School and work were in the morning. No one would dare stay up any later, dreading the thought of a tired days work.

I gripped the steering wheel once more before placing my mask over the bottom half of my face. I stepped out of the car as the last light in the house was flicked off. I slipped my gloves over my hands and stretched my fingers one last time.

I studied the house up and down. There was an open window on the second floor. The curtains blew inside the room, whipping in twists and turns. I took a few steps back, seeing the best way to climb up the wall most easily. Finding the best route, I took a running leap and clung to the gutter. I latched onto a shallow window sill, just above the lowest portion of the roof. I pulled myself up before creeping over the the open window. Peaking in, I saw a cradle with a swaddled baby in deep sleep.

I stepped into the room and looked to both sides of the room. The little boy slept along the other side of the wall. I made my way over to the baby and removed a knife from its sheath. "I'm sorry...." I barely whispered and made a quick slash across its throat. I repeated the process with the little boy, though his eyes flashed open as I did. His wide eyes alert with terror of an unknown dark fate. Death had yanked them from the land of the living.

I made my way through the house and found an old man snoring through the night. His face peaceful, wrinkled but still filled with life. I took my blade and stuck him in the chest and twisted. He too looked at me with widened eyes as he release one last breathe.