Dead Assassin Novels & Stories

⸻ The assassin slowly smiled. “The Black Bride…” He whispered. “…always buries the man who kisses her.” ⸻ Before anyone could react— The assassin suddenly bit down hard. A hidden poison capsule cracked inside his mouth. Blood poured between his lips. Nico rushed forward. Too late. Within seconds… The assassin was dead. ⸻ Silence swallowed the room. The only sound left… Was the ticking of Alessio’s watch. ⸻ Back upstairs… Seraphina quietly packed a small leather bag.

them after us? I stared at the human and wolf corpses on the ground. This enigma has yet to be solved. “Did you find out who sent them after us?” I responded. Dimitri helped me maneuver over a werewolf corpse and said, “No, not yet but it wasn’t Rafael.” It couldn’t be my aunt Delilah because Diego wouldn’t have helped me if it wasn’t Rafael. Someone else has to be prepared to take a big chance in order to get rid of Dimitri and me. Behind me, I heard a noise that Dimitri might also hear. One of the assassins lived, but he was injured and limped off. Dimitri appeared before him in a moment, her threatening gaze enough to make even the most formidable man pee his pants. The assassin trembled

“I went through so much trouble to get that bullet, and you just wasted it on a f****** Beta.” “I’m sorry, my king.” The assassin pleaded on the ground, shaking. Staring coldly at him, Don Asher sat on the couch and picked up the pistol and cocked it. The man on his knees was literally trembling at this point. “Go to hell, and give your useless explanation to whoever cares to listen in the netherworld.” He pulled the trigger twice and shot him dead. The man fell on the ground and convulsed for a few seconds with blood gushing out of his nostrils and mouth.

Sean just glanced disinterestedly. “What's more?” “Adam didn't do it all himself, he hired a very famous assassin in the dark world, Sour.” Sour. Sean had heard that name before. Sour is a genius assassin with a psychopathic mind who is very cruel and maniac. He kills his victims with a very mature calculation and can be very cruel at times. Until now, no one knew the real figure of the killer. “Sour is famous for never failing. He will become obsessed with his victim if he can't kill them. And now, he will definitely chase you, you have to be careful because until now we don't know who he is.”

The worse part was that he hadn't even stopped at just telling Dante to stop messing with his aunt, he even menaced to murder him. "We need to get you out of this city." Nate couldn't help but agree—that was not the avenue he wanted to continue upon this early in a new surrounding. "We need to get out now." "He could kill you, Nate." "I fucking know that Auntie, thanks." He snapped, annoyed that he hadn't been told all these things before even arriving to this city. He had never heard of anyone named Dante Hercules, his name sounded ridiculous anyway. Besides, he never even thought he would come across a mafia member, or an assassin, or a yakuza—honestly, all these terms were way too much fo

Finally, I turned to look at him. I let my gaze trail over his taper fade, the messy blond hair that refused to behave and those stupid innocent blue eyes that made people trust him instantly. He had the face of a saint, smooth lines, sharp cheekbones, a mouth that curled too easily into a smile that could make anyone feel safe. But Olek wasn’t safe. He was the Syndicate’s golden boy; the number one assassin, top of the kill board for ten damn years. I was fifth, which wasn’t bad considering I’d only been in the game for six years.

I wanted to say something. But the assassin suddenly did one final cough. He was alive. How?! I quickly pushed Dain away, climbed down and rushed to the assassin side. “Who sent you!” I commanded but the assassin gave me a hard glare. “I-I will never tell you.” He chocked out through his slurred words and before I can shake the answer out of him, he suddenly bit down something in his mouth and everything happened in a second, the assassin eyes lost its color. He was dead.

Pieces of its brain sprang to the floor. This man is Azrael Cross. A legendary assassin under The Association, he has completed several high-level assassinations including big mafia bosses and drug cartel bosses. These high-level assassinations were attempted by many but only Azrael was able to do so, the member of The association had great respect for him. Click! Click! Azrael's camera sounds. He took a photo of Leo's body to confirm his death to his client and this is also one of the required procedures that the assassin must follow no matter what happens. After that, he immediately sent these photos to them.

Not with this character anyway. If they'd desired merely to knock me out, they could have done so relatively quickly. Instead, the assassin could have shot in me the back. Or, without a silencer and didn't want noise, a tap on the head and a heave over the rail to the hospital car park sixty feet below would have served their purpose equally well. But this assailant didn't want anything so quiet and painless and straightforward. If I was to die, this killer wished to know I was dying for me, this assassin the tearing agony of death by violence, for the delight of savouring my suffering—a vicious evil sadist with a dark mind crimsoned by the lust for blood. The murderer of fourteen people and

“When she didn’t return my calls, I assumed she must be here, with you. You are her mate after all.” “Who are you exactly?” I demanded. To my knowledge, only Selene’s family had known we were mated, and all of them knew she was dead. “Forgive me, Alpha. My name is Alistair.” He nodded his head respectfully. “I must admit, I absconded from Cerathe under false pretenses. I am, or was rather, the leader of the assassin’s guild.” “Selene is dead.” I stated bluntly. “You of all people should know that. She left on an assignment and I felt our bond shatter. I felt her die.”