Assassin Aesthetic Novels & Stories

I exhaled slowly and prepared myself. The face that opened the door was pretty. Well carved nose and a jawline made to cut through glass. His hair fell over his eyes and he had a stoic expression. The brown pants hung loosely on his waist and a black tee covered his upper body, doing nothing to hide his muscles. There was nothing that could connect him to the shadow. The assassin that had killed George without batting an eye. Except…. His eyes. Those dark soulless eyes were impossible to miss anywhere. He was the one.

He wasn't going to kill her… at least not yet, not until he's gotten reasonable answers from her. “I-I don't know, but it was instinct.” She stammered before gaining her voice back. “Instinct? What kind of maid instinctively knows how to handle a glock?” he asked suspiciously. His eyes raked her body from top to bottom. Alina was undeniably beautiful. Even with her hair cut into a bobbed hairstyle, it matched her sharp features more. Her lips, cheeks and nose had this permanent flush that made her look innocent — completely hiding the fact that she's a bred assassin.

There was room for nothing else--no one else, except for Luna Aurora. I was knocked to the ground, shoved into the dirt just half a minute in. The taste of it filled my mouth, followed by a disgusting grainy texture that crunched beneath my teeth. The gentle scent of gardenias and rose petals filled my nose, and I met the not-so-gentle eyes of the Assassin. They were a deep, chocolate shade of brown that held rich undertones of caramel. Even though I lacked the fighting skills of your typical Luna, I still had the reflexes.

The Conclave dissolved instantly into two priorities, and Alessia realized with horror that they were not the same. “Kael,” she whispered, “the assassin—he’s aiming at the Moon King—why?” Kael pushed her behind a fallen pillar before answering. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not safe here.” “He’s not targeting me.” “That doesn’t mean he won’t.” Another shockwave shook the chamber. The assassin leapt down from the upper tiers, landing in a crouch atop the council table, cloak whirling like smoke. Alessia’s breath caught. He wasn’t just a rogue fighter. His aura was wrong, dark, slithering, and pulsing with luminousness that felt sick and corrupt.

The assassin's eyes blazed with anger as she shouted and lunged at Austin, her body moving like an arrow. The machete in her hand whistled through the air, leaving a trail of afterimages. Facing the charging assassin, Austin remained motionless, his body in a combat stance, eyes glinting coldly. His lips curled into a smile. This sight struck the assassin like a hammer, shaking her deeply. Why was he still so calm? In an instant, the assassin was upon Austin. Seeing him standing still, so close, she couldn't afford to think any further. With a "whoosh," the machete slashed downwards, leaving a trail of cold light as it aimed for Austin's head.

It gives me a chance to study him. Yes, his name fits him perfectly with the intensity of his gaze. They are the eyes I saw during my interrogation, and they are the eyes I saw when I walked into my room and saw him there. But within me they trigger something else. Like a memory... The rest of him fits the descriptions of a Assassin. Well built, lean and strong. Not overwhelmingly eye catching, seeming very impassive and blank. Someone you might admire for a fleeting moment as you pass, but no one you would approach for your affections.

He looked like a god of war. ​The office door splintered inward with a crash. ​The assassin moved faster than any normal wolf. The killer wore a skin tight black leather suit, a dark hood completely covering his face except for his dead black eyes, and a vibrant green serpent tattoo curled dangerously around his pale neck. He held twin curved daggers in his hands. Thick, glowing green liquid dripped steadily from both sharp blades. ​The assassin lunged forward without making a single sound, and aimed both poisoned blades directly at Zachery's bare chest.

I shouted and pushed him back as I got to my feet, “You ruined them and as further torture you made Nok their caretaker. They’re down at the barrier struggling to survive and fight because you decided they were better used as tools to shame Nok rather than-” “Ashai,” he was still smiling like I was the one overreacting, “There have been many cases where I’ve been told I needed to be more cruel with my punishments and this was one of those times. Assassins, that’s what they were. A group of ten assassins that were all barely two centuries old. The youngest of them was just a few years older than Garmesh is now. I am fine with people uniting against me. I have every right to be labeled a monst

The darkness I saw was intensively at the tip of making me blind. His conical, straw Chinese coolie hat was one feature that pointed out that what we were dealing with here wasn't Gefion. The rims around the hat was a sharp that it self, seems to have an ability of its own. Like it wasn't enough, a twelve leg creature clamped its pointed legs as it walked out from the darkness. If anything else, this felt unreal to me. This was never expected. The Assassin, as his dressing depicted, had his thumb and his pointing finger on the rims of his hat. The next action was expected.

The impact sparked against his claws, metal shrieking, fracturing. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Silence. His other hand was already moving before the broken blade hit the floor, ripping forward, plunging into the throat of the assassin who’d thrown it. A spray of red hit the wall like paint. The body dropped, twitching, convulsing, then went still. Ashar turned his head slowly, scanning the next wave of attackers. Not rushed. Not panicked. Calm in a way that Mae couldn't take her eyes off him. Predatory. Focused. Controlled violence incarnate. Mae gaze lingered. She could not look away.