Assassin Aesthetic Novels & Stories

There happens to be just the last favrive I'll be needing for tonight's blow. An handkerchief, black in color. I manage to fold it … then carefully I tie it around my nose making my eyes show me the exact look as when I had dressed like a stripper and an assassin. Although I look the stripper more than the assassin but then who would be able to tell about looking like an assassin. I had never… noticed for Ice failed to hy the right target. Ince I have my eyes keys on them I get it done. My targets fall dead the moment I give them the last blow, be it a sharp knife, an hut,. Slump or if it meant suffocating them with my very own hands.

I could feel anger rising in my veins. Calm down, human! You do not want our mate to think you are a monster. Right? "Although I indeed killed a few of my assistants it's not because of all the reasons given to you," I replied regaining my cool. "I am not judging you Caspian but I just want to hear your side of the story," she argued taking a step closer. "Really? I doubt that!"I replied staring into those beautiful blue orbs. "I cannot judge you because we are not that different. You can't imagine the number of people I have killed in my life," she said again taking my hands.

He looks like one of ours. That is the worst part. Same jacket. Same boots. Same relaxed walk like he belongs here. Like he has walked these halls a thousand times. But his steps are too quiet. His heart is wrong. Steady. Trained. Cold. My wolf surges. “That is not ours,” he snarls. “I know,” I whisper back. The assassin turns his head slightly, just enough to see me. He smiles. Not wide. Not cruel. Professional. “So you felt it,” he says softly. “I wondered who would.”

The echoes of punches and kicks reverberated through the room as two assassins engaged in a fierce duel, their movements fluid and precise. Adjacent to the sparring ring, there was a section dedicated to agility and stealth training. An obstacle course challenged assassins to navigate through a maze of laser beams, pressure-sensitive floors, and hidden traps. Emine watched as a young recruit stealthily weaved her way through the obstacles, her movements almost ethereal, her body a silhouette in the shadows.

They’re really freaky. But that’s not the only downside of it. Just because he had surgery, it doesn’t mean his eyesight is that of a normal person. He describes his vision as something you see in a video game or an animated movie. He says it’s like a 3-D game. Don’t get me wrong, the guy is and will always be a badass. Before he became a Confradia Assassin, Priest was Navy Seal. He’s trained in various forms of combat and speaks several languages. Even when he was blind, he could kick ass. He still walks around with a walking stick and uses the thing as a weapon. He’s a serious legend in the Confradia. Not to mention that the man is a serious chick magnet.

She felt it slipping again— that edge— that dangerous, intoxicating pull of something she couldn’t fully control. The assassin groaned. Moved. Still alive. Of course. Her jaw clenched. “Stay down.” They laughed. Actually laughed. “Is that fear… or anger?” Aria’s vision darkened slightly. “Try me and find out.” The assassin pushed to their feet, slower now, but not weak. Never weak. “You’re not ready,” they said, tilting their head. “You’re just… reactive.”

Jenna’s POV It was the next day, and finally the day of my audition and the beginning of my comeback. I got up by six am sharp. I had my bath and put on the outfit I bought yesterday from Lais Baiton. I chose not to wear a black shirt with black leather pants because that was obviously what the other contestants were going to wear. I did not want to look like the most cliche version of a female assassin; in reality, assassins rarely wear black on black because black on black with a face mask and all rather attract attention instead of doing the desired effects. The assassins I had met in my past life loved to dress in the most simple and inconspicuous outfits.

Everything depended on him. Mane grasped the small dagger in his hand and was on high alert. The dagger was the small blunt knife that was beside the stone tablet in his room. He had picked it up when he was preparing to hide. The knife he had never paid attention to was his only means of defense now. His own breathing was like a whisper now, and even he couldn’t hear it. He could hear everything that was happening outside his room. And that was why he was able to discern the change when it happened. The small wind that forcefully pried his window open and the lithe figure that found its way into his room through it didn’t escape Mane’s senses. His eyes were closed, but his ears weren’t. “As

I was not certain how he entered, but I did know that he would not be leaving out the front door. He looked just as douchey as he had the last time that I had seen him. His love of the color black was very stereotypical with what many humans thought our kind was like. Despite his causal appearance, I knew that he would have a few aces up his sleeves. He was a trained assassin after all. A proud smirk pulled at his lips while his eyes looked me over as if I was created to be his personal feast. I believed that it was probable that I was created to be his personal destruction.

An overwhelming murderous aura started bearing down on him. Jay made a few rotations at lightning speed and dodged the assassin's cold blade. Jay looked at the assassin who was wearing a black stealth suit and had a hood over his head. His mouth, nose, and eyes were covered firmly. The thought of him hiding in Angeline's bed last night sent a burst of anger spurting from the depths of his heart. His eyes exuded an ice-cold aura. "Let me see your face." He clenched his fist, shifted his position, and started galloping on the rounded wall like a gecko, attacking the assassin from the side.