“I got you now,” I whisper to myself as my target walks into the clearing.
I aim my arrow and take the shot, hitting him in his right leg. He hits the ground, his now wounded leg not able to support his weight. I step out of the trees I was using as cover. Wearing my famous cracked, porcelain mask with black lips and a black tear on the left cheek. Taking my knife out of its sheath at my hip, I walk closer. ”Why didn’t you bring your guards? Did you think you were safe?” My voice, void of emotion as usual, was calm and cool, as though I hadn’t a care in the world. “I’ve tracked you for so long, you and the others that is.” I know how insignificant my words will make him feel, just the way he made me feel years ago. I lightly drag the knife across his cheek; a thin red line appears and a single drop of blood rolls down his cheek.
He glares at me, eyes burning with hatred. As he spits his words at me I can hear the lightest touch of fear, “Who the hell are you?”
“Don’t you remember the three year old’s life you destroyed, making her watch as you tortured her family before killing them?” Stating this with mock innocence I circle him slowly, enjoying the fear I send coursing through him. He may not remember me now but he will, he’ll remember just how he destroyed my life in the last fleeting seconds of his.
“What do you want? I can give you money, I can double what she’s paying you. I have a family, a wife and child.” As the fear takes over his voice begins to tremble and, in hopes of hiding it, he speaks faster.
Oh it is wonderful hearing the fear in their voice. It never gets old. “Nothing you can pay me or what you’ve done in these past years will sway me. Parading your family in front of me will make me feel nothing but pity for them.”
I lightly tap my knife on his throat in a playful manner. “You don’t have the guts to kill me, woman.”
“Is that so? Well, I’ll just have to change your mind.” Pulling the knife away from his throat I plunge it into his chest. Twisting it ever so slightly, he screams in pain and he begs for me to stop. Hearing his pleas make me laugh, it’s music to my ears. Taking off my mask I lean in and kiss his cheek leaving a clear lipstick mark. “You can’t double nothing. It just so happens that you ruined the wrong life. I am the Crimson Death.” I hiss into his ear before standing to my full height. His eyes widening in fear and shock as I pull my knife out and clean off his blood using his shirt, “You had this coming, dear.”
I am Esha Ivory Dracula, codename Crimson Death. I am the most feared and widely known assassin of the supernatural world. Most humans don’t know about the supernatural beings, such as Lycans, Hemophages, Mermaids, ect., unless their lives have been destroyed by them in one way or another for obvious reasons. I’ve spent 14 years training to kill the creatures that haunt you in stories and wait for the wrong person to invite them in. After I finished 11 years of training I was allowed to kill on my own if I wished it. That’s when I set out to find and kill the cause of my pain, he was the last of the ones I can get to. There are two more but they are untouchable from my position here.
I have finished what I set out to do, what will I do now? Well, I’m already packed for my next mission. I am the youngest assassin, at age 17, headquarters recruited me at 3 ½ to be trained. Though I am the youngest they say I’m their best. It never scared me, the thought of killing. My mother was a cop and my father a spy, so when they were killed I thought it was because of a case. I wasn’t nearly old enough to fully understand what happened but I did understand that I would never see them again. I did wonder why they killed my elder sister and younger brother but left me alive. As the years passed and I grew up I knew what had really happened and my carers never hid the truth from me. I always had these awful dreams of that night and I still do but now I have worse nightmares than something that happened when I was just a tot.