“I have only one shot. One chance. One opportunity. I cannot mess up.” Using those sentences as my motto, I have been able to become the greatest assassin ever known. I have completed all of my assignments except the last one. I have no idea what came over me. But my employer didn’t specify exactly what to do. But he hinted. When I got to the house, I did what I normally do. I crept into the house, then went to the target’s room. I never think of my assignments as a person. It makes the job easier.
When I got into the room, I stood over the target and hesitated. That’s when the target’s eyes opened. So did the mouth. I had to put my hand over it. I could have killed the target, but for some reason, I didn’t. If I didn’t hesitate, I could have moved on with my life. But that’s the thing. I hesitated.
Ring! When I answered the phone, it was an old colleague, John.
“ABC, I need you to meet me in Robul’s alley in two hours time.” he said.
“Okay, why?” I asked, just to be fun.
“You know why.”
“I know.” I sighed and hung up. There is no fun these days. Now, what to do while I wait? Hmmmm.......... I’ll practice my knife throwing. I also need to do everything else, but my favorite to do is knife throwing. It’s easier to take out a target from far away than up close. Some targets will fight back. So, as I headed toward the basement, I thought about the previous assignments from John.
The first assignment from him (and my first kill), was a middle-aged man who stuck his nose too far into John’s business. I took him out with my second favorite- and old fashioned- bow and arrows. I like to tie messages to the things I throw, namely, the arrows and knives. ( I have used a javelin, but don’t normally because they are really messy. Plus, the employer wanted it messy) The message that I put on the knife of that one was M. Y. O. B. - Mind Your Own Business. I never write in my handwriting when I write those notes. ( I taught myself to write in different handwriting) If people knew that I was an assassin, I wouldn’t be able to walk the streets. If you read the prologue, then you might be wondering how I am the greatest assassin ever known if people don’t fear me. Am I right? The answer is simple. People fear the assassin ABC, which is me, but they don’t know that I’m that person. When I’m called for an assignment, I wear all black and I wear a mask. All of my employers think I’m a man in his 20s or 30s. But that's only during the night when I have an assignment. By day, I’m Gai (pronounced Jay) Nightseed, a sixteen year old boy that has hazel eyes, brown curly hair, and that is six foot two. I also live with my dad, who is really rich. They think I’m a much older person because my mask shows only my eyes which are like orbs of steel. (just kidding) I’ve seen many things. Many horrible things. I’ve watched my grandparents on my mom’s side get murdered. (I was under the bed.) When an employer told me to use a javelin and I used it, I vowed to never use one again, even if the employer tells me to. Too messy.
When I got to the basement, I started to practice my knives. I set up the target about 360 feet (or more) away. I started to throw my knives. After I threw six of them, I went to check the results. Man, I’m slacking! All the knives but one were on the bull’s eye. The sixth knife was a millimeter away from the bull’s eye. Normally, I can get ten knives on the bull’s eye.
I practiced a bit more, and when I looked at the time, I saw that I had only ten minutes to get ready and get there! I hurriedly put the things away (and fixed the target so dad doesn’t suspect anything) and tried to hurry to Robul’s alley. But I was stopped by every person imaginable. I was stopped by the cook, dad’s hairdresser (which, if you ask me, is ridiculous), four maids, dad, two people who do the laundry (man and woman), three stable boys, and my tutor (why do I need one?). I thought I wouldn’t make it there in time. But, thankfully, I live close to Robul’s alley so I changed and made it there on time. John was waiting.
John is a middle aged man with blond hair and blue eyes. He is of an average build. He was sitting on a crate, waiting for me, when I got there. He stood up.
“I need you to do something.” he said.
“Sure, what can I get yah?” I said with a smile; which of course, he couldn’t see, due to the mask.
“Ha- ha. I need you to carry out a threat I made.”
“Sure. To whom?”
“Mr. Banks.” he said, real serious.
“Why him?” I asked. Mr Banks is one of the richest guys ever. (But not richer than my dad) He has two sons, one my age, the other ten.
“I made a threat. I need you to carry it out.” he repeated.
“I know, I know. What was the threat?” Sheesh. John may be smart, but he can be very dumb sometimes.
“I told him if he didn’t keep his end of the deal, something would happen. I need you to make it happen.”
“How?” I asked, already knowing and hating the answer.
“Do something to his sons.” John said, serious again. (I have never been asked to kill a kid and I never will either.)
“What to use?” I asked.
“Whatever you want.” he said, and left. Now, as I was planning how to get past the security system, I fingered my knife. Do I have to kill the boys? (First mistake: thinking of them as boys) One is only ten, and I go to school with the other one. But, I’m getting paid. A job is a job. a target is a target. Time to get it done and over with.
I hurried to the house as fast as I could. I crept past the guard dogs (Easy), jumped the electric fence (Too easy), zig-zagged my way through laser lights (Almost touched one), walked past a sleeping guard (Ha!), and completely quiet, snuck past the last guard. Until I knocked over the trash can. (Stupid me!)
“W-Who g-goes there?” asked the guard in a shaky voice, searching the shadows. Idiot. He’s looking the wrong way. At least my dad doesn’t hire idiots. Or does he....?
“I said, who goes there?” he repeated. I left him to repeat himself.
I walked through the house trying to find the room for one of the boys (I’ve never been in the house), when I saw a sign on one of the doors. It read, ‘Do Not Enter On Pain Of Death’. Definitely a guy’s room. (I have one on my door, but dad didn’t pay attention to it so I added, ‘Or you’ll be scarred for life’. After that, he knocked.)
I quietly opened the door and saw two dressers, two bookshelves, and two beds with sleeping figures on them. Man, their dad is so rich that he has a house with a thousand rooms (at least) but makes his sons share one. Their dad is so messed up. (Second mistake: thinking of the targets as people again) Sharing a room makes it easier, I thought. (Boy, was I wrong.) I walked over to the smaller figure and stood there for a few seconds, choosing which weapon I should use. I fingered my knife, my rope, and the rod, but chose the knife. I raised the knife and hesitated. (Last mistake: hesitation (I am such an idiot)) That’s when the boy’s eyes opened. So innocent. I decided right there that I wasn’t going to kill him. He didn’t comprehend who I was until he saw the knife. (It’s my favorite and is known by many. Which sucks.) He gasped before I could put my hand over his mouth. The terror was showing on his face. I put my hand into my first aid kit (which I always carry) and brought out a sedative. (Not the shot kind) I dripped some onto a cloth (very hard using one hand) and put the bottle away. His eyes followed my every move. I put the cloth over his mouth and nose and his eyes slowly closed.
That’s when I was hit from behind. It felt like I was being hit with a piano. But, as it turned out, it was only a shoe. (Thrown with incredible force.) I turned around, rubbing my head.
“What did you do to my brother?” asked my classmate, Laos, through clenched teeth. Laos is six foot or close to it, with a tan complexion, dark brown hair, soft greenish-blue eyes, with the build you’d expect a teenage boy to have.
“I said, what did you do to my brother?” he asked again. He was holding the other shoe.
“Oh, I gave him a sedative. He should wake up in an hour or two. No harm done.” I told him.
“N-” he crumpled to the floor. I put away the blow gun that I ‘shot’ him with. He should wake up in an hour or two.
Now, what to do with them? I had no choice but to take them with me. So I picked them up (really awkward, seeing Laos is heavier than me), and took them to the shed/house/thing that my dad had given me. (It’s a pretty big place.) He’ll never come in. (I told him that his presents for the future were in there, but that’s where I store my assassin things.) I put them in the cage (which is not small) and locked it. Now what? I sat there thinking for about an hour and a half, when Ty, the ten year old, woke up.
“Uhhh..... Where am I?” Ty was awake and looking around. He saw me.
“Hello. Have a nice nap?” I asked, careful not to show emotion. He looked down and saw his brother.
“Laos, wake up! Please! I’m scared! Please, wake up!” he whispered, (thinking I couldn’t hear him) nudging his brother. Ty is a dark blonde with hazel eyes. Normal height, normal build. He doesn’t look anything like his brother.
“Laos, please....” he started to cry softly. I felt bad.
“Hey, he’ll wake up soon. At least in ten minutes.” I tried to assure him. He looked at me.
“Why didn’t you kill us?” he asked in a whisper.
“It wasn’t my instructions.” I was really feeling bad. I would have felt worse if I had actually killed them. But the thing is, I do know John enough that he did want me to kill them. When he finds out that they aren’t dead, I’ll get a call.
“Uhhh.....” groaned Laos, “My arm hurts.” It hurts because that's where the dart hit him.
“Laos!” Ty cried happily and hugged him.
“Ty? Are you okay?” Laos asked.
“He said he wasn’t instructed to kill us.” Ty said, pointing at me.
“What?” Laos asked, finally noticing me.
“It’s true. He did say, ‘Do something to his sons’. Those are the exact words. I always follow instructions. Those didn’t say kill.” I told him. Truthfully, Laos kinda scares me.
“But....... Why?” Laos still couldn’t believe it.
“I just told you. I’m not repeating myself.”
“You sound exactly like someone I know.”
“You sure? That shoe felt exactly like a piano.”
“What?” Laos said, trying, and failing, to keep the laughter out of his voice.
“Finally! Someone laughs at a joke!” I said. Ty giggled.
“Joke? What do you mean?” asked Laos.
“I joke around all the time, but apparently, my employers don’t know how to laugh.” I told them.
“Who knew it? The greatest assassin of all times is a jokester!” Ty said, laughing.
“You sound like Gai! He’s one of my best friends.” Laos bursted out. ‘Awww, I like that.’ I thought, but said, “Never heard of him.”
“You haven’t heard of Gai Nightseed?” Laos asked, incredulous.
“Nightseed? Yes, I’ve heard of the name, but my employers have never made any deals with the Nightseeds. I have no idea why.” I told him. Maybe because I’m in the room when my dad makes deals with people. I make sure that he makes deals with the good people.
“You’re not that scary.” Ty said. I just sat there, staring at him. Laos did too.
“I mean, once someone gets to know you.” he continued, gaining confidence.
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Yes.” was all he said. I looked at my watch. I am so late to bed. I have about five hours until I have to get up for school.
“Got to go! Have a nice night!” I said, and left.