Flash Fiction 21

I usually post these over at my other blog (http://blodeuedd83.livejournal.com) But today I will post it here, so perhaps if there is someone who still have not heard about this then you want to join. It's really fun!

Amy C over at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie over at Tink's Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday - 350 words, give or take. 

(pic removed)

The Assassin

by Blodeuedd

He was the one that belonged to the night. He was the one that came into your house when you were sleeping. He was the one that cut your throat.

It was an art really. You did not just kill a man. Now first you had to know things about the person you were meant to kill, you had to study him, his friends and where he went. Did he sleep alone? Did he have servants near? Some did not care and killed them all, but those were the sloppy ones, the ones that eventually got caught. And Christijian was not sloppy. He had been trained since he was a young boy found in the streets. He had learnt about poisons, weapons, and he has been trained to fool the best. He could impersonate the rich and the brightest. He was everything a man in his job should be. He also knew how to protect his back from fellow artists that wanted a piece of the cake. He killed without remorse, but he still took care. If he had a job to do, he did the job, and he was not paid to kill anyone else so why even do it. Or perhaps he did have a conscience after all that said it was wrong.

He had spied on her for weeks, Lady Alena. She was beautiful, and rich, and she had the king’s eye. Therefore the queen wanted her dead and had hired the best to do it. He knew what she slept in, he knew that she liked to read before going to sleep. He knew what she liked for breakfast, and he knew which time would be the best to take her life. During those weeks he did have doubts. She was so young, so full of life, and she deserved more. But he knew that if he did not do it someone else would, and that someone would not be as nice as he. He did not want her to suffer, or worse.

He opened the window and crawled in without making a noise. He watched her for a moment while she sleep peacefully, and then he took out his bag. He blew some powder into her nose and watched her breathe slower and slower. She faded away without realizing it. Her mind already in a coma. She never felt a thing. That was not what the queen had wanted but screw the queen. She would get hers. He smiled where he stood and touched her cold chin. Then he sighed and went out the way he came. He had a new mark, this very night a messenger had come to him. The queen would be dead within a month. Lady Alena would not die for nothing.

It never did hit him that he could have saved her.