10.10.11

I swear.... I didn't die.

I've just been so busy - cleaning and homecoming is next weekend. But, to make up for it, you writers, here's the opening to the new, revised The Assassin. Many thanks to Evie who read this probably twenty times and sent me three separate edits of this chapter to get it into tip top shape.






The last few remains of sunlight reflected off of the building across the street, glistening in pink light and mixing with the dark colors of the building to create a rainbow. In one room, a light burned inside. It added a flame to the rays of color. If I held my hand up, I could put the fire out, and the whole rainbow would be ruined.
As the last sliver of light disappeared into the night, I took my spot in the kitchen, in between the refrigerator and the wall. The tight spot would be missed.
The metal of the refrigerator was cold on my arm. Cold and sleek like the rest of the apartment. It lacked a homey feeling and screamed of a bachelor pad.
The couch was an off-green color with modern wood framing and stiff cushioning. A glass table sat in front of the couch. Another table with sat on the side. It was inside its single drawer that I’d found gun number one. The other was stuffed in his bedroom dresser.
Throughout the entire apartment, there’d only been one item that made it seem like a home, and not just a place to live: the picture of his fiancĂ©e. Deceased now, she had been pretty, to say the least. Looking at that picture while covering the apartment, I’d wondered if her death had anything to do with the way Jonathan Walker had turned out. A man with a successful life ahead of him, and he threw it all away to try and help some budding terrorist group in the Middle East.
A terrorist mastermind, right in the middle of New York City, and the United States government was keeping his identity a secret. Exposing him would lead to panic, and in a town as scarred as New York, the last thing they needed was a panic of another terror attack. It was much easier to pay an anonymous killer. Someone who wasn’t linked to the government so they wouldn’t have to worry about retaliation.
The sound of a key turning brought me back to focus. I hid back in the crevice between the refrigerator and the wall, readying myself as the door swung open. The lights came on and I saw him walk in from the hallway out of the corner of my eye.
“He shoots…” Jonathan tossed his keys across the room into a bowl on the table. “And he scores.”
He slid out of his jacket and placed it on the hook next to the door. He walked toward the kitchen, which connected to the living room, and I wrapped my fingers tighter around the dagger in my hand.
Crash! Jonathan spun around, falling into the kitchen counter. He stared across the kitchen to the balcony doors, almost panting. “What the hell was that?” he asked in a whisper, then louder, he asked, “Who’s there?”
My thoughts matched his. I’d scanned the whole apartment before he’d arrived. No one had been in there.
“My gun,” he said. As he cautiously headed for the bedroom to go search for it, I came out from between the refrigerator and the wall, hugging the wall to remain unseen, my dagger ready. 
Seconds passed as he went searching for his gun in the bedroom. At first, there was silence, but it soon gave way to the frantic sound of drawers being yanked open then shoved closed. I managed to hold back a sigh of relief. The silence only made my heart beat faster; this wasn’t going the way it was planned.  “Where the hell is the gun?”
A slow smile crept across my face, as I looked toward the balcony where the guns were.
Footsteps echoed from the bedroom, giving me the spare moment I needed to dive back to my hiding spot.
Jonathan came out of the bedroom and yanked more drawers open, including the side table’s.
Pacing the length of the couch, he griped the phone as he dialed. He held the phone to his ear, trying to calm his breathing. “Yeah, I’d like to report a robbery.” He rattled off the address to the dispatcher. “Yes, my name is Jonathan Walker, and I have two guns that have been stolen. They’re nowhere in the apartment. And…And on top of that, there was a crash outside on my balcony. That…that’s why I realized the guns were gone. I went to go look for them to protect myself…” he rambled on.  The pacing stopped when he turned around and started at the doors to the balcony. If something outside had caught his hearing, I’d missed it.
He walked over, pushed the curtains aside, and then froze. Standing on the other side of the glass doors was a man, pointing a gun right at Jonathan Walker’s chest. One bullet would be enough to kill him right then and there.
Jonathan Walker dropped the phone as his arms went up in surrender.
The man on the other side slid the door open and walked in; his thick boots made no noise. “Jonathan Walker,” he said, more of a statement than a question.
“Yes…yes…yes,” Jonathan said, taking a step back.
“I know.” A shiver went through my body as the man took another step forward. He held his gun up, silencer at the end, and pointed it straight at Jonathan. Jonathan’s back was turned toward me, but I was willing to bet that gun was touching his chest for a fatal blow.
A moment later, Jonathan fell over with the low crack of the silencer. Anyone in the neighboring apartments wouldn’t be able to hear it.  
The man stuffed the gun in his pants then reached down with a gloved hand and picked the phone up. He hung up and placed the phone back in the cradle on the table. “
I crept back further into my little cave and waited. I could only hope that he hadn’t seen me.
He headed through the kitchen without noticing me, and then out the front door.
After a minute, I stepped out and walked toward Jonathan Walker. Blood was oozing from his chest; a large red spot had already formed on his white shirt.
My hand instinctively went to my mouth and I turned around, running toward the door.
Jonathan Walker was dead.
This didn’t happen. At least, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
Someone had ripped me off. Why had someone else done it? It didn’t make sense, no one was supposed to even know that he was supposed to die.  How could someone just come in and kill him like that, no rhyme or reason. Killing him was my job. I was the Assassin. 

3 Comments:

Autumn said...

Love the revised beginning! If you ever need any help editing, feel free to email me. I believe you have my email address :)

Cubette said...

oh, wow! that's so cool. i write stories too. i thought i was just weird...

i will continue reading. please check out my blog @ http://cubettescorner.blogspot.com/
i'm going to open up a blog just for my stories soon, so if you like, please follow me!

blessings!♥

Cubette said...

if you please, come join my new blog series:

http://cubettescorner.blogspot.com/2011/10/art-series.html

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