The Assassin

prolouge

I stepped over the growing pool of blood, determined not to get my new shoes dirty. I grabbed a drill from my table of neatly organized toys, feeling the weight of it in my hand. I felt the cool grooves in the metal, the slight scratches from wear and tear and smiled as old memories came to light.

Flashes of blood came to my mind, but nonetheless I focused on the bandaged man on the floor, surrounded in his own blood halo. As he saw my eyes shift to him he tried to yell, but it was muffled by the duct tape. He squirmed and writhed under my sight which caused endorphins to surge throughout my body. I giggled and grinned, excited for what was to come.

I lifted the drill to eye level. I noticed old blood and skin and my grin widened. I pulled the trigger on the drill and a loud whirring noise filled the deserted warehouse.

The creases in his forehead became more pronounced as he convulsed in fear.

I knelt down, making sure he had a clear view of the drill. His screams were nothing but cheers to my ears as I pulled the trigger again. But then his eyes had a look of hope, and he seemed like he had something to say. I motioned a silencing finger to my mouth, indicating that if he were to scream his death would be even more painful.

I slowly and painfully peeled off the saliva-soaked duct tape, and he took a big gulp of air.

"Stanton Tower," he gasped, "he's at Stanton Tower. Just.... for the day though.... with limited personnel."

As soon as he confessed his body relaxed. I set down the drill and looked at him. I leaned in towards his face, cupping his cheek, stroking his face with my thumb in a caring manner. His eyes shone with pride as if he made a parent proud.

I smiled lightly.

The dynamic was similar to O'Brien and Winston. He had a dependency on me because I am the one who could harm him, but I'm also the only one who could save him.

Then the duct tape was back on his mouth. His face shone with confusion, wondering why he was still being restrained even though he did what I had asked. He started to jerk against his restraints and scream.

His eyes shown with betrayal.

"Shh, there is no need to fuss," I whispered soothingly.

I grabbed the drill and jammed it into his inner thigh.

His entire body convulsed, the duct tape straining against his mouth. I noticed protruding veins on his forehead as his entire form turned red.

I laughed demonically, waves of pleasure pulsing through my body. I closed my eyes and relished in the sensation.

I removed the drill and looked at my masterpiece. The hole was perfectly aligned with his major artery, meaning he would bleed out in minutes.

A perfect job. Per usual.

As his jerks became weaker and his whimpers became softer and his eyelids became heavier, the lines in his forehead finally faded away. And when the last line faded away, so did he.

I stood up and took a few steps back, gazing at another work of art.

When I was satiated, I cleaned up myself and began pouring the warehouse in lighter fluid. I drenched the sleeping man in the fluid, making sure to cover every last spot.

I picked up my tools and walked out, trailing a line of lighter fluid behind me.

When I reached the door, I threw the fluid can into the warehouse and then threw a lit match into the trail of fluid.

The building was immediately engulfed in flames.

As a drove away into the night, I saw my flames touch the sky.