Romans & histoires Wink Assassin

They both look like dictators reigning above everyone. Keeping my eye on both of them, I signal Connor and gesture to the two targets. Connor moves close and nudges me forward. Just as we’re about to move, a shot rings out across the room, and pandemonium ensues. I glance back to see our assassins fighting and then look back up and rush forward when I see that the Senator and Kennedy Lynch are running away. As I’m nearing the stairs, a man appears and takes a swing at me, but I’m ready. Gripping his wrist with both hands, I kick him in the kneecap, twist his arm behind his back and put pressure until I hear the sound of bone breaking. The man cries out in agony as his body slumps to the grou

Lyph~ the soul which resided within the baby's body, was a notorious Killer. Killed thousands of lives, be it corrupted or innocent as it was her job. She was also a weapon smith, but only making weapons for herself, deadly kinds of weapons, many even wished for her to make theirs too, but she refused nonetheless.

Then, gritting his teeth and swinging his arm to knock his assailant back, he shot through his ribs. But before he could recover, another person emerged from the darkness. A blade flashed towards his face. Nicholas barely dodged, the sharp edge close enough to graze his cheek. He fired a shot, but Adrian's men, his attackers, were already on the move and they were swift and threatening. Grabbing his wrist, one of them roughly twisted it. His gun fell out of his hand and clattered against the concrete that had been soaked by the rain.

A blade gleamed silver black, quickly rushing for my throat. I rolled, fury and instinct taking over my body. The dagger kissed my cheek, sending fire across my skin, but missed my jugular by a whisper. “Kale!” I screamed, though I knew he was too weak to rise. The assassin snarled, mask glinting in the torchlight, his movements sharp and precise...trained, not a common rogue. His second strike came for my heart, but I caught his wrist, claws digging deep. Blood spilled, and still he pushed, eyes glowing faintly with a red I knew too well. Ritual blood.

he warned again and Alessa raised her middle finger to him and turned to the door. “I am an assassin, what’s the worst that can happen?”

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 have been speechless all day, wondering how Gertrude figured her way out of the murder. It is now so clear that she has people working for her in every corner you turn. I had played this game before, and I lost. It's time to level the field before the times turn on me again. I am a wolf assassin, and I have been one for years. It's about time I started acting like one.

She stretched her fingers slowly to adjust on the comfort before walking towards the mat where Agent Gavin Thompson is waiting for her, standing rather arrogantly. “I’ll go easy on you, Walters,” Gavin said with a smile. “You can make the first move.” She raised her hands in the air, the left hand slightly higher to protect her face. She looked at Gavin calmly before she finally took one step forward and threw her right fist into a curved, aiming for his jaw. She then recoiled when Gavin expertly blocked her and threw a counter punch that hit her on the left cheek. “Let’s go, Walters,” he mocked lightly. “That was an easy counter. You could have blocked it.”

The killer moved like a shadow. A hidden blade appeared in his hand, flashing in the dim light above. Jason had expected this sneaky move. He braced himself, impressed by the sheer speed of the attack. The knife sliced toward Jason's ribs, a blur of motion too fast for the human eye to track. It was a deadly strike meant to end the fight in seconds. But Jason was already moving. His enhanced reflexes reacted, blocking The Wraith's wrist. The force behind the blow sent a tingle up his arm; this was no normal assassin. Jason countered instantly, his hand shooting out to strike the assassin's collarbone. The Wraith's modified body absorbed most of the impact, but he still staggered.

For the next three days, armed with the precise itinerary provided by the scrolling comments, I began my little operation–cutting her off at every turn. Tuesday afternoon. Janet was meeting her second target. The number one assassin on the Starlight server. Game ID: Shadow. I slipped into a fitted black outfit–sleek, bold, impossible to ignore–and arrived at the lounge bar, Muse, thirty minutes early. Shadow was a silver-haired boy with a rebellious edge, the kind of untamed wildness that bled into real life.