Dead Assassin Novels & Stories

My head turned with difficulty while my vision blurred and I locked eyes with her—the janitor’s daughter. Her trembling hands gripped the smoking gun while her face contorted into a mask of grief and rage. She whispered "You killed my father" yet the ringing in my ears made her words almost inaudible. The security personnel forcefully brought her to the ground while extracting the firearm from her grip. My body experienced an overwhelming heaviness combined with an unnatural numbness. A remote dull throb of pain now existed overshadowed by encroaching darkness at my vision's edges. Before collapsing I sensed strong arms catching me while Alexander’s voice sounded sharp and commanding yet dis

"Don't come anywhere close to me" Ava took a step backward sobbing, she thought he was going to turn his back and leave, but her hope shattered when he took another step towards her. Ava had seen his profile and she had decided not to have anything to do with him. Don Drexel Mason popularly known as the snitch killer or the grim reaper, is the most dreaded Mafia Assassin in the underworld, not just in that country he was known all over the underworld in the whole continents.

She looked him dead in the eye as she said the ‘shot’ part. She wanted to ask him so many questions. Why did he kill the man? Why was he helping her despite the fact he killed someone? What was Adrian's connection to this? From what she observed so far, Adrian seems to be the boss and he clearly ordered the hit using Nicholas. She was the most unfortunate to witness it, now he wants her dead.

My instincts claw toward the surface, desperate to reconnect. But I stay silent. Dead. Invisible. Because this is how we win. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Outside, in the real world, they’re already mourning me. The broadcast was surgical - Victor’s masterpiece of digital theater. Across global networks, a deep-fake assassination played in cinematic perfection: Elena Cassadine—me—cornered in a rebel stronghold, her twin standing above her, issuing final words before a directed-energy burst disintegrated my body. There was no scream. No gore. Just light. And silence.

I retorted. “There are many ways to kill. Brute force doesn’t equate to all of them, not even many. Death was my job, and I found it worked best when you had the element of surprise. Assassins prefer a silent, clean kill. Blood and gore is extra.” He tried a smile, but his eyes were far away and hollow.

Because the cleaning lady's uniform worn by the assassin in disguise was found on the victim's bed. Silent Assassin's works are very clean and his nickname just fits him. He is quiet when he kills. There was not even a trace that the two wrestled inside James' room and it seemed like the man just died from a heart attack. But when James' father autopsied his son's body, the police found out that a strong poison had been injected into the victim's body which caused his death. Silent Assassin's poison is strong because it can kill in just two to three seconds. He is a very dangerous person.

Bang! He flew out and fell heavily to the ground. He spat out several mouthfuls of blood and died an instant death! This counter-kill made the assassin disciples surrounding the living room panic a little. It was too terrifying! One blow had killed a disciple in the third zone! Fennel said unhurriedly, “Who else wants to give it a go? This bounty is not that easy to get.”

Voodoo quotes reverently. “What if he’s occupying our minds by making his office look benign? What if he does what we expect. You obviously think he might not hold evidence where he lives, but what if that’s not the case? Think about it. What do all Assassins have in their homes?” I sit forward at my desk, connecting Voodoo’s spoken thoughts. “We have a weapons room. You think his weapons room is in his office and that he’s hiding something in it?” He nods his head. “I think that there’s a room within his weapon’s room that would distract anyone from beyond what they expect. The stalagmite is a hand’s reach from the shelf. Do you know anything about Stalagmites?” He asks us.

“I’m sure Jaxon and baby Hunter will love it. Just keep me updated.” “Sounds good,” she replies cheerfully. “We’ll talk later.” Once she disconnects, I sort through the information on the laptop. Emotion wells up in my chest as I read through the events that occurred that night. Micah was pretty thorough. Jaw tight, I review the pictures of the men Micah assassinated that night. I never asked him how he did it. I guess I didn’t want to know. But seeing the men’s lifeless bodies lying around a room as if they are asleep elevates my respect for what Micah does. For some reason, I assumed he went in guns blazing and shot each man. Or that he cut their throats with the nasty blade I saw him hold

I slam into one of them and kick the other in the head, then twirl before the one with the knife can stab me in the neck. A gun cocking behind my head makes me stiffen. Nostrils flaring, I raise my hands and get ready to attack, but before I can, the man behind me falls unconscious onto the floor. Turning quickly, I spot one of my fellow Assassins, Phoenix, finishing off the last two men. The hallway looks like a war zone with unconscious bodies lying in various spots on the floor. As soon as the last man is down, we both face each other. “What are you doing here?” We both ask in unison.