Heartbreak Hotel: Concubine

Awakening I

February 1st

One month of Rose's coma

16:30 pm 

The wind blew roughly, swaying the weakened promotion signs of several bars and shops. The purple and pink lights, mixed with a strange shade of neon blue, represented the futuristic picture of Avalon. The white of the remaining snow made the streets brighter, but the coldness stilled any form of life. My boots padded against the street pavement, ice crunching under my weight and giving off my presence to the passing people in the district. 

Rilibel, the district that intersect two most important chains of streets. It was the heart of the city, leading to the center of the mind-blowing, colorful decorations around a big Christmas tree. Where the center of it was, where everything began. It was crowded with people, too much for my taste. Filled with children, families and couples, businessmen and other dangerous groups. Avalon wasn't a typical city. It was hell for anyone that just moved into it and heaven for anyone that knew their way around it. I grew up on these streets. I know each and every corner, every single block, that is. In a way, it helped me with my job, on another hand, there wasn't  a place I could go to where people didn't recognize me.

Unless I was doing what I was assigned to do. Unless I was off duty. 

I pulled my hood over my head even more, adjusting the mask on my face. The bud in my ear trembled with static and I was once again connected to the person at the other line. 

"Keep going. He's about to go into the side street."

"What are the orders?"

"Kill him."

My pace fastened. I pushed through the crowd, going unnoticed by the man that was casually strolling through the crowd. He rounded the corner just as I was informed. I heard a buzz over my head, a light static forming in my ear once again. The drone flew higher, going over the roof of the tall building so that it wouldn't get spotted by the target. 

"He's alone."

I slipped down the same thoroughfare, gaze locking onto the trudging form of the male. Taking my hands out of the pockets of my coat, I slipped on the black, leather gloves and removed my hood. Pulling out a knife, freshly sharpened and polished, I spun it in my hand before holding it in the right position. I sped up. Seconds later, I was only a step or two behind him. Waiting. 

"Now."

Her voice broke through the silence in my ears and my feet glided skillfully across the pavement. One arm circled around his head, hand gripping his face over his nose and mouth. Painfully and tightly, I restricted any way he could possibly let out a breath or a sound, roughly pulling him to my chest. My tall figure loomed over his smaller one, the terrified eyes found mine. 

His eyes grew wider as the pain rushed through him. Driving in my knife through the side of his throat, I pushed it in with a jerk, making sure that the tip got out on the other side. With little effort, my hand switched positions and twisted the knife in the direction of the victim's face, effectively slicing his throat open. The man couldn't scream, or cry out for help. Blood instantly gushed out of him and his eyes remained open, dead as his brain instantly shut off. 

I let him go and the body collapsed against the floor with a low thud. 

"Good job."

The line was cut off in the next second. I took off my bloodied gloves, taking out a plastic bag and stuffing them inside. The tissue I had sufficed in cleaning the knife while I walked away from the scene, turning several corners and crossing multiple blocks until I reached the street I knew all too well. The front door of the bar was open. I slid inside in the next second, safe from the prying eyes of people.