A tale about a broken assassin and a her victim.
Tears were spilling down my face as I ran down the street. She was following me. I could tell. I got a chilling, tingling feeling when she was close. She was going to get me sooner or later, I knew she would. Her silent flying above the city. The daunting stories you hear around town. She was terrifying. I don’t know why she was chasing me but she was. I knew one thing, that she was going to kill me. I shivered at the thought.
I was breathing hard and sweating. The sweat was rolling down my cheeks, mixing with the tears. I had to stop, just rest for one moment, but I knew if I did she would pounce. She was waiting for the right moment, like a Cheetah spying on its prey. My head spun because I’d been running for so long. My thighs were burning and my lungs on fire. I tripped over a drain and hurtled to the ground. The breath rushed from me and I felt suddenly very empty, like the remnants of my life had been pushed out of me. Then, I felt a prick of pain through my stomach and suddenly I was breathing extremely hard and pain flew through my limp body.
I looked down and saw the dagger, shining in the moonlight. It went right through my stomach. As I looked down, my eyes caught the sight of red, soaking through my shirt. My head was fuzzed, unable to make sense of anything around me.
The last thing I remember of that night was her face. Dark and painful, a red scar but then my eyes rolled up. And…
That night was the worst night of my life. My life was hanging there for anyone to take. But thank goodness no one did. I had survived.