Take Away the Saints

Reaper : Ch 3-6 || trueathenian

"What I despise more, is that I am one of those humans." He looked out of the window, "Yes, it's these trees that made it finding you so difficult. You cover your tracks well, Reaper! I will give you that."

Reaper spoke, "I have your object, tell your boss it will be delivered on time."

The assassin removed his glasses and wiped them neatly and slowly, "It was never just about the object Reaper. He knew only you could retrieve the object but also that you couldn't be trusted with it. Killing you was always the part of the plan."

The Reaper already knew that. It was always the same. In Tegna, trust did not exist.

"So you have come to kill me?"

A slightly morose look passed the man's face, "Reaper it pains me to see you in such a state." He placed his glasses back on, "You are ahead of the flock, and in the same line as I am. I admire your work."

He got up. A constant sound of the axe chopping wood could be heard in the distance. Reaper weighed his options. He knew there was no gun on him. He was defenceless; offense remained his last option, but his hands had a limited reach. He was not sure if he could get up.

"Truly what an irony it is, to kill one of the humans I hate less, and that too when he is in such a deteriorated state. There is no honour in this I assure you, I find no pleasure." The man remained safely out of Reaper's reach and steadied his pistol towards his head. "It will be quick, my assurance. Any last words? I don't usually give that liberty to my targets, but I respect you."

Reaper's eyes still searched for ways to escape the predicament, but he was slowly coming to the conclusion that there was none.

The revolver hammer clicked reminding him of his limited time. His figure stood in full view of the early morning sunlight. Reaper's breathing quickened.

"You will remain an insp..." An axe to the back of his head was what it took to stop his monologue. It split the back of his skull in two. His eyes bulged and blood oozed out freely and fast, his cleaned circular spectacles turned a tint of crimson. Blood flowed from his nose as his mouth remained open. He started to fall face first on the Reaper, but with one heave, the old man retrieved the axe causing the dead assassin to fall behind.

The old man was panting, shirt and face sprayed with blood, his eyes lit with a hellish gleam, "The kid thought he could pass by me undetected. Arrogant bastard."

He dropped the axe on the floor with a thud. "This mess is going to take a while to clear," he sighed.

Reaper said, "This isn't the end old man. The Wing of Death is coming."

The old man nodded his head as he let out another sigh, "I know. It simply never ends."

 

Chapter 4

The Wing of Death had become a part of mythology in Tegna. Such was their repute that most people didn't believe in their existence. How could they? A group of four people that could eliminate the president of a country and still pass undetected and very much alive? That seemed too surreal to be true. All that hit the Wing of Death turned to ash.

Even Reaper would think twice before facing such a group. But he wasn't disillusioned like the masses. The reputation was far greater than their skill level. Much of their methods relied on cheap theatrics, building an unprecedented reputation being the biggest one of them. They were better than most assassin groups, but they weren't immortal either. And Reaper knew about each of the four members that came under The Wing.

And as long as you weren't an immortal in Tegna, Reaper could kill you.

They were funded by Reaper's employer and he knew for sure that the Company man's apparent failure in his mission would summon The Wing of Death. Reaper was cornered, but so was his employer, if he had to send The Wing to kill a single man. In all honesty, the old man's behaviour intrigued Reaper the most. He was unlike anyone he'd ever seen in Tegna, anyone he could hope to meet.