chapter 2: Rogue Assassins

Charlie woke to the darkness of the next night and stretched as she yawned, slowly sitting up in bed. She gingerly checked her wounds from the night before. After making sure that the wounds had atleast stopped bleeding, she slid off her mattress and pulled the robe closer. She quickly padded down the hall to let Maurly back inside. Then, she re-filled his water dish and went back to her room.

                 She pulled a fresh pair of jeans on, and then wrapped her shirt back around her torso. She went to her blade closet and pulled out a fresh three inch blade, slid it into the ribbon above her breast, then pulled out a fresh six inch blade. She placed this blade in its sheath on her inner thigh, then pulled out two more blades and placed them randomly on her person. She pulled her long hair into a pony high on her head, and then slipped her bone-wraps on her wrists. She sighed, knowing that tonight was going to be a long night. She pulled her stiletto boots over her jeans, and then fastened her long blade sheath to her hip and pulled out the large foot long blade from the cabinet and slid it in. Then, she headed for the door. Maurly whined for permission to go with, and Charlie sighed and nodded for him to do as he wished. 

                 Tonight was the night that she had to stop the rogue assassins. These assassins were taking matters into their own hands, and instead of waiting for an assignment, they were killing random people without reason. They had crossed the line from being considered assassins of justice, to being outright killers. Being the best in her business, she was called upon to do so unwillingly. She had acquired friendships with a few of these rogue assassins during their training, and she wasn’t happy to have to kill them. She walked briskly to the edge of the forest and then followed the edge of the sidewalk into town. 

               When she reached the bar where they were supposed to attack, she quietly ducked behind a large dumpster with Maurly close behind. She crouched next to the dumpster and waited for them to show up. 

           After twenty minutes of waiting, a loud crash was heard from inside the bar. Charlie slowly stood up and saw the back of one of the assassins not six feet in front of her. She pulled the small one inch blade out of her pocket and used it as a throwing blade. It hit the man square in the back, an inch to the right of the shoulder blade, six inches down, a sweet spot. A wicked grin crawled across Charlie’s face as the man silently started to fall to the ground. She leapt forward to catch him, withdrew her blade, and then laid him soundlessly on the gravel. She knew there would be two more assassins, and she looked around carefully for signs of them. Seeing no one, she entered the bar. There, standing near the bodies of two victims were the last two assassins. They had their backs to her, and she repositioned the throwing blade in her hand for throwing at the closest assassin. 

              As the blade left her hand, the second assassin turned around. It was as if everything that happened next happened in slow motion. Maurly Crouched and growled, the assassin aimed his gun at Charlie, then recognized her. The second victim of Charlie’s blade fell to the floor. Charlie pulled out her long blade and took up her fighting stance, the assassin hesitated with the gun, and Charlie and Maurly leapt together at him. He yelled out as recognized Charlie, and knew that guns would not be effective on her. He remembered that Charlie only worked with blades, and that she had be trained to not get hit by bullets. Not only was she trained this way, it was in her blood. It was just not possible to effectively use a gun against her. He cursed under his breath and threw his gun to the floor and pulled out instead a small pocket knife. Charlie reached the fallen body of her victim and pulled out her blade. She spun to face him as the cold steel of his pocket knife pierced her arm and Maurly wrapped his jaws around the man’s leg. She gritted her teeth and stabbed his gut, staring at his eyes to watch for them to gloss over. His crazed eyes were yellow with exhaustion. They seemed to jump out of his skull and laugh at her as he fell to the ground. The pure dark red river flowed from his stomach and his lips as he convulsed at her feet. She groaned as she recognized the man as her best friend from training, and everything came back to regular speed. She sprinted out of the bar, with Maurly close behind. 

                     Reaching her house in a matter of minutes, she fell to the floor just inside the door and wept, the eyes of the man and the sight of the innocent victims in the bar filling her head. She knew very well that she wasn’t supposed to feel emotion, but she couldn’t help remembering what brought her to being an assassin in the first place, and the face of the man who killed her family when she was ten.

Reviews

[freelancejouster]

notes as i go along: why are the third and fourth blades placed randomly when the first and second were placed with so much care? shouldn't they forever be in the same spots so she can reach for them without thinking?
why is Murly's 'crouch' capitalized?

the end of this chapter puts the reader in suspense and makes me want to read more, like, right now. she has a reason, a purpose, a vendetta.

[Meat of Dog]

Another interesting installment! The events and explanations in this story seem to happy very quickly, advancing it right along. I'm interested to read on and find out why she became an assassin, and more about the man who killed her family. I like hoe you showed her as having emotion, despite killing for her job (making her feel human, as oppose to an invincible machine).

other suggestions:
-of jeans on, then wrapped" And then
-This suggestion is purely opinion. Try seeing hoe many sentences in one paragraph you can start a different way. It helps the flow a little bit, because starting them the same way, or with the same word, becomes the tiniest bit repetitive.

[Nobody.]

Love the descriptions, and the story is rocking. But, Tom Sawyer has a point. You should put in a line or two to explain why she has healed so quickly. Is it a magical gift/power? Has she been genetically engineered for such things?

Other than that little tidbit, I love it!
Will read more soon.

Cheers!
R.G.

[Thomas Sawyer]

Good description. I kind of have a problem with her wounds, knife wounds i guess, getting healed overnight. Readers tend to pick on these things, too much of them and they lose interest. Take note.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good chapter. You gave her some history and the story got reason and purpose. She did not like to kill her friends. Would be a hard life that few can do with no emotion and conscious. A excellent chapter. Thank you.
Coyote