Assassins Books Novels & Stories

he finished as he rose. The room, surrounded by his fifteen elite, he froze midway through his rise, transfixed by the sight of the assassin before him. Everything that happened next happened at once, and yet he watched it as if it were intended for him to see. In the man’s grip came a burst of flame, and from the space around his hand a blackness spilled from somewhere within the light like a pool of blood from an unattended injury, smoke rising as it came to life, drawn from a place Maekil could only surmise to be an abomination. And when it was over, like the tale of the Shadow Child, in his grip rested two short swords like the falchions of great archers who bore the battlefront in the a

Henry said casually. "This is our third encounter, right?" Sven asked. "Thank you for saving my life twice before. I feel so ashamed," Sven responded. "It's fate. Here, take this." Henry pulled out a book and tossed it over. He had plenty of resources because he was the Master of Golden Liberty and had previously been given opportunities. "What's this?" Sven was perplexed, but he was stunned when he saw the title on the cover. "The treasure of the assassin world—the Art of Assassination! Wait! There's also the Ghosty Steps?

He pesters me as I struggle with myself to at least be able to wiggle my fingers. I hate him. I hate him so much. No particular reason as to why they want him dead? His words right now are enough reasons. What part made me this unconscious? Was it the hit? Or was it the fact that I cut myself? Was it my blood? I have bled one too many times. Aunt Kitra made sure I never had my trainings easy. “What is an assassin if you cannot fight the same death you have made your job?” He continues to pester me as he increases his pressure on my foot.

Detroit Michigan, USA. His eyes spurred danger. Fierce green. All he did was hid them behind those masks of his and he only takes them off when ever he feels he has accomplished a misson. His tongue and teeth were red and bloody. Evidence of the numbers of innocent people he had murdered and drank their blood. Blood of the people he had slaughtered like animals. He needed to feast on them. The blood makes them more powerful and undefeatable. Last time they hurded their enemies, they slaughtered every single each of them. Boys, girls, men, women and even children. They were always driven by the force to kill. Seeing people suffer, in tears, pains and killing people in the worst ways possible

A/N :- The 'Flames of Obsessiveness second series' consists of 10 books, including three stand-alone novels. You can explore my profile for the three Stand-Alone books from the second series. This second series continues the stories of the children of the Kashyap, Grey, Miller, Rathore, and Khanna from the 'Waves of Possessiveness first series'. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •Book 1) His BLIND REVENGE Tropes :-

"It's d-done, it'll be r-release on Monday." "Good." I said and pulled out my dagger on his arm which made him cuss loudly. "You know what's the saddest part in life?" I ask while wiping the blood out of my dagger using his sleeve and walk behind him, pulling his head back and slit his throat. "To meet demon assassins like me." I whispered while smirking and watching the amount of blood that had poured from the wide jagged wound under his chin across his windpipe. When he stopped writing, I slowly pushed his swivel chair near his table and picked up his phone, typing a message and leaving it beside him.

“Then I guess we better give him what he wants. Rogue, take out the needles.” Rogue gives me a knowing smile before he opens up a satchel and removes several six-inch needles. The needles look like knitting needles, but instead of hooks at the end, they’re sharp and extremely painful. Rogue was the first Assassin that I brought on when I became the South American Board Director. The first thing I taught Rogue was how to use the needles for the purpose of torture. I use the needles to dig them into vital organs, which causes slow, excruciating pain to run through my victim’s nervous systems. It’s a very painful way to die. Rogue prefers to use a gun, but I enjoy my needles.

Would be use as an evidence. Back then as an assassin, I always made sure I destroy every proof that I have. Every single one of them, I don't ever leave any trail or something that could stand as a weapon against me. I am always careful. There was this particular book that caught my eye, is actually the title that piqued my interest... The book title is, *The kidnapping of five kids.* This is so gross, killing people wasn't enough, he actually... Kidnapped kids! My father is a real psycho.

I challenged her. "Okay fine, I'll tell you, AS stands for Assassination Society and as you can see from the name, they are the ones who are given assignments to assassinate someone and the ones who give them these assignments are their BIG SHOT client who wants their mess to be cleaned or enemy to be killed accidentally or in natural death without them being linked to that death," the woman began to explain everything to us. And I hate challenging her since she understands what AS is and what the aim of this group is.

We locked the dungeon’s door and walked back toward the bedroom, making sure to walk in the shadows as we did, careful not to be seen. We entered the bedroom and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when we did, wrapping my arms around Iris and pulling her in for a hug. The two of us were yet to grieve over who was once the best assassin of her time. She was known for her strength, power, and purity. The idea of her betraying the way she did would have never occurred to my mind had we not lived through it, and seeing that she tried hitting two birds with one stone, and that one of those birds was Iris and I didn’t come as pleasing to me.