Assassination Note Novels & Stories

"A mercenary from the neutral crags. But he took a night-shade capsule the moment we pinned him. He's dead." Julian marched across the snow toward the dead assassin, his heavy boots leaving deep prints in the frost. I followed closely behind, my mind racing through every piece of the puzzle. The note in Oakhaven wasn't a warning about the future, I realized with a chilling surge of clarity. It was a distraction to keep us away while they wiped out my father's journals and killed Kael before he could talk.

"What do you mean, ‘whoever or whatever’?" Damon gestured to the brown envelope. "See for yourself. This wasn’t just an assassination—it was a massacre." Anna's father hesitated before opening the envelope. His eyes widened in horror as he pulled out the photographs. Images of dismembered bodies filled the pages, with Mario Manzoni lying dead among them. "This..." he stammered, "this is carnage." Anna and her sister leaned in to catch a glimpse of the pictures, their expressions shifting from curiosity to horror.

Ashton looked down, a crease deepening in his brow. “There’s something else,” he said. Kari turned to him slowly. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, crumpled note, stained with blood. “We found this. It was left at the scene.” Kari took it with trembling hands. She opened it slowly, her breath catching the moment her eyes landed on the name written inside. Her face went pale. I moved beside her, but she wouldn’t let me see. She looked at Ashton, then back at the note.

By the time I dropped them off at the preschool, I wanted to go home and take a nap, but there were things in the office that required my attention. I showered and changed in my room at the pack house before heading to my office. To my surprise, Zane was seated in front of my desk waiting for me. “Have the bids together already?” I asked. “I figured that would take at least a day.” “No. There were a couple incidents last night. I need to fill you in.” I gestured for him to continue as I took my own seat behind my desk. “That assassin, Marcus, he killed his cellmate last night.”

Bullet casings littered the floor, evidence of countless hours spent perfecting their deadly art. As Emine continued her exploration, she noticed a corner dedicated to intelligence gathering and analysis. Here, assassins pored over maps, blueprints, and surveillance footage, piecing together the puzzle of their targets. Computer screens flickered with encrypted messages and intricate algorithms, highlighting the basement's connection to a vast network of information.

We pull up to the hidden apartment on the outskirts of town, hidden beneath a warehouse we infiltrate the area, pushing doors open and finally landing at the door My heart pounds in my chest, this is it, this is the person we have been looking for, finally, we can be free from his clutches My anger builds in anticipation as we push the door down, and my blood runs cold immediately at the sight as we enter the apartment The assassin is lying on the floor, dead, with a bullet in between his eyes, blood pooling around his head, and running down the wooden floorboards. My heart races, my fingers clenched into fists in anger at the sight as I pick up the single piece of paper on the floor, sealed

The moment he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper, the murmur of voices around us ceased, as if the entire room collectively held its breath. He unfolded the note, and his expression hardened as he read its contents. I stepped closer, feeling my stomach tighten with unease as my eyes landed on the jagged handwriting. "One by one." The silence that followed was deafening. My heart pounded violently against my ribs. This wasn’t just a murder—it was a warning. A deliberate message, meant to strike fear into anyone who dared to ask questions. Andrea slowly lowered the note, his grip on it tightening. His face betrayed nothing, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes.

I set all three notes on the clean section of the counter and looked at them side by side. “Pushed in hastily,” I said. “Look at the edges… the paper is creased unevenly, like it was done fast and without proper access. This wasn’t planned as part of the original attack.” I looked up. “Whoever placed these notes had access to these bodies after they were already dead. That means they were nearby when it happened, or they knew where the bodies would be before anyone else did.” The silence that followed had a different quality to it. “You’re saying it’s someone on the inside,” Kael said slowly.

A moment later, a piece of paper slid through the narrow gap beneath my door. The footsteps retreated in haste. I peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. I didn't touch the note, afraid of smudging fingerprints. Instead, I crouched and read the words on it: I know the truth about Edmund's death. Come to the big banyan tree in Greenfield Residences at 11 p.m. Don't call the police. The note was crafted with meticulous care—letters cut out from newspapers and books, pieced together like a ransom demand, leaving no trace of handwriting.

I ordered, my voice calm but cold. "He instructed me to get important documents about your company... and..." I frowned. "And?" His throat moved as he swallowed hard. "To strangle you and make it look like a suicide. He also told me to leave a note on your desk." "Where is the note?" "In my pocket," he answered quickly. I nodded toward my bodyguard. He immediately stepped forward and searched him. Moments later, he pulled out a handwritten note from his inner pocket and handed it to me. I carefully opened it and stared at the words.