Masquerade

Chapter 7

I was afraid that I would be able to do it, and would forever have the blood on my hands. 

{Robin}

I stood in the dark alleyway, leaning against the shadowed building, waiting for my victim. Two tall, burly men flanked my sides, their black clothes making them melt into nothingness. My clothes were equally black, but there was one thing about me that would attract the eye like a moth to a flame. In my right hand lay a knife, long and slender, shining brightly in the night. It rested their comfortably, familiar to my grip. 

Thoughts of guilt about what I was about to do raced through my mind, but I forced them away, letting the joy of the violence take over. I felt an evil grin spread over my face and I could imagine how my eyes gleamed with bloodlust. 

This was what I loved. The waiting, the building anticipation. Apprehensive about what was to come, but excited none the less. Feeling the cold handle of the knife in my hand, the coil of rope in my pocket. Waiting for the door across the alley to open and my target to walk out. Feeling my blood rush through my veins, my other side taking over. I could feel power running through my body, my breath quickening as the time drew nearer. 

Although I felt like pacing and letting out some of my held in energy, I held completely still. I only allowed my eyes to flick to my right and left to make sure my companions hadn’t moved. They stood stock-still at my sides, their silhouette only barely visible against the dark sky. 

My eyes returned to the front as I stared, unmoving, at the simple door only a few feet away. Even though it was so close, I had to concentrate immensely to make out its shape. Laughter, talk, and the  cheerful melodies of a violin floated out into the street we were on. I wasn’t thinking about the party that the victim was currently at, though. I wasn’t even thinking about the victim. It didn’t matter who he was, what he had done wrong. All I cared about was that my boss wanted him dead. 

Thinking about my boss, I flashed out of my second personality for a second. Guilt and shame hit me like a truck, coiling around inside me and making me feel like throwing up. The breath I had been holding escaped me in a second. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do, how horrible it was. He probably hadn’t done anything wrong, just offended the one person you should never offend. For a second I felt like turning around a running as fast as I could out of that alley, escaping this life that my lucid self hated with a passion. 

But then the door opened, spilling out light that stopped just short of me. I switched back into my other personality, gripping the knife in my sweating hand, and stepped forward into the light. 

___________________________________________

I ran my shaking hands under the frigid water in my sink, but the blood wouldn’t come off. I scrubbed them together as hard as I could, but the dark red stains stayed, reminding me. 

Forgetting the water soaking my palms, I ran my fingers through my hair. my breath escaping my lips in a huff. As I felt my chest constrict, I lurched away from the cracked marble sink and paced around the small room. My metal toed shoes echoed on the floor. My fragile control was on the verge of breaking. I felt my heart-rate quicken. The trembling  now encompassed my entire body. Heat flashed through my veins, making my stomach turn. My whole body felt weak, my legs barely able to hold up my torso. I stopped at the wall and rested my forehead against the cold surface. It felt good against my aching head, but did nothing to calm my nausea or uncontrollable shaking. Just as black spots danced across my vision a know at the door startled me. I stumbled over and tried to turn the knob, but my hands were shaking so much that I couldn’t open it. As it rattled, my breaths increased. 

“Robin?” Warrens voice sounded alarmed. “Are you okay?” 

I tried to compose myself before opening the door. Warren couldn’t see me like this, he would realize something was up. 

“Yes.” My voice shook a little as I cleared my throat. “One minuted.” I rushed over to the sink and splashed some water on my face. I was sure I still looked like a wreck, but I hastily opened the door. Warrens worried face met me with a frown. 

“Are you alright? You look a little…” Terrible. Frightening. Crazy.

“Sick.” I finished. “I… er… don’t feel so well.” His face lost a little of it’s suspicion. 

“Is it not a good time?” He asked. 

“I don’t know… It must be late, Warren. Why are you here?” 

“I need to tell you something…”

_____________________________________________________

“So?” I asked. “You gonna tell me?”

Warren had been sitting on my bed for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only ten minutes. 

I leaned against the wall, still tense and lightly shaking, willing Warren to say what he wanted quickly and leave me alone with my dark thoughts. The only sounds were my shallow breathing and my fingers tapping together. Warren took a deep breath and looked at the bare floor beneath his feet. I heard him take a gulp and watched as the muscles of his throat and jaw worked. He finally looked up, meeting my eyes at last. After clearing his throat, he spoke in a soft whisper. 

“I… er… you can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you, Robin. No one. I shouldn’t even be telling you. Just… please, please, keep it to yourself.” I didn’t like to admit it, but I was frightened. More frightened then when Warren had told me he needed to kill someone. I almost didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. 

But in the end, he was my friend, my best friend, and I wanted to help him however I could. He looked so lost and scared, so unlike himself, that I moved to sit next to him on my bad. 

“I promise I wont tell, Warren, no matter what it is.” He was silent for another minute, but finally spoke,

“Last week, er, at the bank…” He was having trouble getting the words out without tripping over his words. “Michael gave me a letter that someone dropped off earlier in the day…”

_______________________________________________________________

{Persephone}

I stared at the small, beige colored envelope with a bright red wax seal, lying just inside my doorway. On the cover, in big, sprawling black letters, was a name. 

Persephone Blackwood

My name. Just the sight of my own name made me step away from the note. 

No one, no one, knew my name except my father. I tried to dispel the hope that filled my heart, but it wouldn’t leave. 

With trembling, cautious fingers, I reached down for the letter and plucked it off the floor. I tried to calm my beating heart as I walked over to my bed. 

As soon as I sat, I ripped of the seal and pulled out the thick parchment paper. 

My eyes quickly skimmed the ink words, and my face fell. Despair and fear weighed down my heart as I read the words a second time. 

Who was M? How did he know my identity? And what was he going to blackmail me to do? 

{Warren}

Another note. This time anonymously delivered, found in the hours of the early morning by Mary. 

Upon further thinking, you would not be able to carry out my wishes alone. You need someone more experienced in this venue. You will have an accomplice. 

-M

__________________________________________________

So when i actually typed this, all of the writing from M is in a REALLY cool font (Edwardian Script) and looks really awesome, but stupid wattpad maked it all boring... =[

oh well. I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!