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Sachiasage

The Chronicles of an Assassin

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Sachiasage    1

The Chronicles of an Assassin

     It was a cold night as I shiver in my jacket and pull it closer. I look into my scope as I see my next target walking around to his car, tall, dark, and handsome from what I could see. Still have not been able to see his face. I take a breath as I get ready for the shot, looking back into my scope I set up my sight, but he is gone! I look up and back in my scope cursing and about to call the corporation, They won't be too happy about this. As I sit up to take out my phone, there is a tap on my shoulder. I swing my leg out in attempts to trip the intruder but he jumps and laughs at me. I look up into his face and realize he was my target, he looks at me and puts his hand in his pocket. Quickly I snap at my gun, he kicks it away and silently holds his hand up as if telling me wait. He pulls out a picture, I can not believe it but it was of me. He reaches into my jacket pocket and pulls out the picture of him, combining them into one. That's just the beginning.

    Going backward to before I am apart of any of this, before the corporation, and before the tall, dark, and handsome disturbance. Born in a small village, I was apart of a lower class, I walked among the peasants and thieves. I started helping my parents in the fields at the age of 5. Even with working I was sent to practice trade or beg in the bigger cities. Not long after I started working with my parents, my mother grew ill and shortly died of the sickness. My father was a soldier and taught me the means of combat and how to defend myself.

    I had a innocent expression and a silver tongue so naturally when my village was being attacked I was able to get them to leave in exchange for a new accomplice. I was 13 and with my quick thinking I was trained to be a spy and an assassin. My father was killed at the beginning of the apocalypse due to a stray bullet. I was 16 and when I got the news I had put my gun to my head, ready to leave this world. 2 seconds before I pulled the trigger I felt arms reach from behind me and  gently push the gun from my face. Tears streaming down from my face I hear a deep voice saying, “It's not worth it, you will see him again but now is not your time.” Then I get a grateful hug. I turn to find the one who saved me from myself is tall dark and handsome…. I soon find out his name is John Wolfard and with his kind words he brushes away the tears and mends a piece of my broken heart. I only see him that night and then he disappears, I find out that he was a spy from another company and infiltrated the room the was never spoke of, the one that held all of the information on the corporation.

     Fast track forward, 8 years later. I am 25 years old and the head agent calls me in on a special assignment. Tells me they found the trail of an enemy corporation and I was to take out them quickly and quietly. I look up the information to the alias name of Darren Wolf. I track him for a month, learn where he lives, where he works, learned that his favorite pizza was a chicken, bacon and barbecue with onions, I still shudder at the thought of the nastiness. It finally came down to the night, the night that Darren Wolf would be apart of the underworld, but once I caught a glimpse of his face and he “Whispers it's not worth it,” I realize he was my John Wolfard, who happened to have kept tabs on me all these years. I sit up with excitement bursting out of my heart, unable to control my questions, my wonders. We sit and listen to each other and a couple hours later, I report to the corporation that Darren Wolf has been slain, a body was produced that could have been John’s twin.

     John and I worked together and exchanged information, leading our corporations into a compromise and getting married. No one ever figured out that John Wolfard was Darren Wolf. All documents of Darren was burned and turned to ash. Eventually the apocalypse tore the corporations apart, most of everyone either burned in the explosion that was at headquarters, or were turned into walkers, each and everyone were shot in the head until it was down to John and I.

     As we walk through the valleys we walked in upon an infamous clan called The Descendants. John pushes me back as they approach us, growling and snickering at us. The leader that goes by the name of Alex notices the protection we have for each other, with an eyebrow raise he stops the advances and asks us our names. Proudly we announce our names, standing side by side, Alex notices this quality and invites us to sit around the fire to talk, we look around and agree. As Alex pulls out his guitar we are questioned about our past and why we are there. Interesting enough I suppose they decide we are Descendant worthy. We are told to trust them and as night falls the group lines up, Alex at one end and us each at the other, we each take our turn to walk the line of now pack members, comrades at arms. Alex goes through a speech and one by one we each slice our hands, letting the blood drip and mix with those who were now family. The pack hoots and howls for the new initiates, but that is only the beginning.

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