Chapter 1Mature

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I am a completely normal high schooler.

Adults might call me an assassin. Kids might call me a ninja (even though that’s completely incorrect. For the record, I don’t practice ninjutsu). But to myself, I’m just another typical high school teenager.

Who kills people.


My name is Megan Shane Tabb. Or MST. Or Tabs. And I’m telling you my name because I don’t care if you know my name or not. If you end up using it badly, I’ll just kill you, because I’m just another normal high school student.

Who kills people.


It’s the first day of school. No one actually knows who I am. Except for possibly one other person, if that agent decides to show up eventually. I called for backup 2 months ago. It’s been 8 weeks. 56 days. Nothing. Not even a word. Who wouldn’t be pissed?

Stepping into Megson Garbner High, I’m hit with a wave of glorious body odor, further confirming my theory that body odor can kill, and a mass of swarming high students crowd every inch of the school. If someone ripped off the roof of this school and took a video of it from an airplane, we’d look like a termite mound covered in termites. Or an ant hill covered in ants. Or anything swarmy.


Megson Garbner High was founded by, you guessed it, not Megson Garbner, but his great great great grandson, Jake Garbner, who wanted to honor Megson for running away with a slut who then bore his bastard son who became the start of this successful line of the family. Great. I’m glad everyone’s parents are cool with sending their kids to a slut-fucking school.

By the way, the school is in New York City. I’m not sure how it got approved to be built there.

I guess some explanation needs to be given before we dive too deep. I’m part of some super secret society that trains kids to be super killers. There’s some other secret society that does the exact same. Except they’re our rivals so naturally, whatever they’re doing is obviously evil and wrong. So our jobs is to kill them off. Their job is to kill us off. I guess you could say that we’re pawns in a game, mere pieces on a chessboard, but being a pawn is better than being nothing, or even worse, being collateral damage.

I’d rather be controlled than be mindless extras.

And that’s right. My job here is to kill someone from the rival society.

The End

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