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I am so dead.

            Devyn Marx opened his eyes but could see nothing through the blackness of the room. Even with his sharp senses, the darkness was impenetrable with not a ray of light shining through. The air was so cold that it seeped through his skin to his bones. He wasn’t used to feeling the cold this way. Devyn was usually pretty immune to it, and his battlesuit was usually thick enough to protect him from harsh weather. Twisting, and feeling no material scrape against his skin, he realized his clothes were not on his body.

            What sick, twisted place had he gotten himself stuck in?

            Anger flared as he struggled to get out of his bindings but all he did was rub his wrists raw. From what he could tell, the cuffs were probably Ariande steel, a type of metal that couldn’t be found on earth and took days to forge.

I should be flattered that they think I’m this dangerous, he thought to himself. Though, in retrospect, Devyn was that dangerous. A trained assassin since childhood, Devyn was one of the most lethal commanders the Confederation had. But, even commanders like him weren’t immune to Ariande steel. He’d have to break the bones in his hands if he wanted to get out of these cuffs. Even then, he wouldn’t know what to do about his ankles. He certainly couldn’t cut off his feet.

Feeling like he was in some kind of gruesome Saw movie knock off, he struggled to breathe evenly and remember what had happened.

Devyn had come home at night, aching and raw. Placing his hand on the scanner, the house came alive. “Welcome home, sir.” He grunted a response and stumbled to his bedroom after a long day at work with the Confederation.

The Confederation was the justice system that governed and upheld the laws of the United Republic, within earth and beyond it. Their assassins were trained beyond compare, and he was a tier one commander. He’d been sworn in to The Confederation at only ten years old. At fifteen, he made his first kill and earned his first stripe as a bottom-ranking assassin. By now, he’d lost count of the number of hits he’d been sent on. His hands were permanently stained red with blood. For almost thirteen years, Devyn had served The Confederation with determination. It was the only place he felt important, powerful, and desired. When he donned his uniform, he was an unstoppable force… or so he’d thought.

His mission was lengthy and a member of his dispatched team had foolishly set off a trip sensor, causing a severe explosion to tear down the building. Their marks had gotten away and some Confederation assassins were killed in the process. Devyn barely escaped before being flattened under a pile of rubble like a pancake.

Battered and bruised, he pulled off his battlesuit and threw it to the corner of the room. It’s blood red stitching mocked him in the low light. The black, tough leathery material was meant to make Confederation assassins look more intimidating and prevent the enemy from noticing if a member had been injured and was vulnerable.

Involuntarily, Devyn ran his fingers over the brand marks on his arm. The brand proved his rank, stature, and lethality. “Sir,” the house’s vocal system alerted him. “Someone requests your presence at the door.”

“Who is it?” he growled, grimacing as he pulled himself off the bed.

“It’s the woman, sir. Guest 4A7X. Shall I unlock the door?”

He sighed in relief. He’d given Ariana authorization to enter the house on her own. She had the track pad keys and he’d even programed her palm print into the system. Still, she insisted on ringing the bell like a guest. “Program Guest 4A7X under the name Ariana and let her in whenever she seeks access.”

“Understood.” A tone sounded as the vocal system shut off. A timid knock sounded at his door.

“Come in, cor meum,” he called. The most graceful woman entered his room. Ariana Belle was beauty incarnate. She had silvery blonde hair that flowed like silk to her hips and creamy, fair skin. Her figure was tall and slight, and her eyes were a cool blue that captured his attention whenever she happened to look his way.

“Oh,” he sighed. “My angelus pulchritudo. Come lay with me, Ari.”

She frowned at him in distaste. “Why must you use that crass language, Devyn? It’s so dated.”

“It is a precious, ancient language called Latin. My grandmother used to speak it to me.” He put his arm over Ariana’s shoulders as she sat with him on the bed.

“I don’t like it,” she stated coolly. He just smiled and shook his head.

“I’ll speak it around you, no longer.”

“Good,” she stated simply as he pulled her to the thick, comfortable mattress. He made a noise of content as she lay against him and inspected her nails. He raked his fingers through her hair affectionately.

“You smell,” she said, pulling away from him.

“I’ve just come back from assignment,” he replied.

She shrugged her shoulders. “You should at least shower when I’m staying the night.”

“You’re staying the night?” Ariana hadn’t spent a night with him with him since they’d been together. Sure, they slept together, but she was always gone before dawn.

“Yes, but only if you get into the shower before you crawl into bed with me.” She started to undress and slipped underneath the blankets, pulling a tablet from her purse as she curled up to browse the media.

Devyn all but limped to his bathroom, undressed, and stepped into his glass shower. “Rain shower, on,” he commanded. The water started to pour from the ceiling at his command and he quickly washed and stumbled back into the bedroom, where Ariana was browsing clothing on the tablet.

“Better?” he asked as he slipped into bed with her, not bothering to pull his clothing back on. She huffed and continued to browse. “See anything you like?”

“A couple things,” she mumbled. “I grabbed your credit card from the nightstand. It was just sitting there.”

“Anything for you, Ari. My money is your money.” He rolled over and pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her bare neck. She stiffened a little but didn’t pull away. Instead, she turned over and kissed his lips deeply. His hands travelled her body instantly as she climbed on to him. She bent down to press her lips against his neck and as she did, he felt a prick against his shoulder. The room spun and his body went numb.

“Ari?” he gasped. His sight dimmed. “Ari! What the hell?” he roared as he tried to roll out from under her. She jumped off of him and covered herself in the blankets as he fell to the floor, trying to crawl to his feet. “What have you done?”

“I’m sorry, Devyn. I had no choice.”

The world went dark.

Now, chained up and aching, he realized that he’d been mercilessly betrayed and handed over to his enemies by the one woman he loved. His mind fought his heart. It couldn’t be true. He refused to believe it, and yet some part of him screamed out for vengeance. He gave everything to that heartless b***h. He roared in the pain and agony that ripped at his heart.
            “Ariana!” he cried out.

Blood trickled down his wrists as he struggled harder than ever to get free.

“Save your energy, murderer,” a woman’s voice came from the shadows. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there.

“What do you want?” he rasped.

“Revenge,” she said simply.

“I don’t even know who you are,” he retorted.

A dim light flared in the room, temporarily blinding him. By the time his eyes had adjusted, the woman was standing only inches from him, a knife in her hand. Her hair was pitch black and a pair of opaque shades covered her eyes. She wore a black uniform with a silver symbol on the front. It looked familiar.

“I’m someone that you should not have fucked with,” she snarled in his face. “You and your merciless brethren. You b******s!” She slapped him across the face, hard.

Devyn glared at her. “I’ve done nothing to you or your own.”

“Liar!” She hit him across that face again, this time with a closed fist. His lip split and blood ran down his chin. “You murdered my parents and my sister. You tortured my best friend. You blew up my home! Monsters.” The woman aimed the blade at his throat. “I won’t rest until I wipe out every single one of you. The Confederation will crumble at my feet. Your brethren will cry out for mercy that I will never give.” 

“Who are you?” he spat.

“As cliché as this may sound: I’m your worst nightmare. I can’t wait to make you squeal, pig.” With that, she exited the room and slammed the heavy metal door behind her. 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good opening chapter. I liked how you set-up the chapter. I like story of mystery and you led to a good closure in this chapter. I liked the open ending also. You made me wish to read more. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote