Hallucinations

My undershirt sticked to my back from the perspiration, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling rapidly. On the contuary, I was ready. Carefully, the knife slid out into my hand, the carved ivory handle in contact with my palm. Too predictable, a held knife must be firmly locked in place, all maneuvers' imaginative movements restricted to the arm. Too limited was my moveset, too obvious my line of attack. This would be my last kill with such an antique method. I was to be accepted into a circle in which my life would start anew. My excitement laid with this vision, a vision that would be realized after this one and final kill. I felt the ivory carvings etched into my palm, my breathing steadied, my heart stopped.

The moon shone lightly on the finely honed blade of the ivory knife before it plunged sharply into the neck of an elite guard. No sound came from his mouth, shock had not reached his facial expressions, the blade pulled through and severed the guard's trachea and larynx, cutting off all nerve signals to the brain. A successful kill, had any sound escaped from his mouth, any sudden jerks of movement, I would've failed, my creed broken, my esteem shattered. I would accept no less from myself. The final deed was complete, the petty kills will not continue for any longer. Before a drip of blood fell from the tip of the knife, it was wiped away with the hood of the guard. Even a slight detail such as drips of blood will not be overlooked. I shall be perfect. For all my previous kills was. For I know, from this point on, there cannot be any more imperfections, any slight mistake, none that I have done before, will kill me.

Without touching the dead body, I left, the only evidence of my existence being that deadly wound on my victim's neck. It would've been usual practice to hid the body, I would not have liked the attention showered onto it. No dead body needed the attention. But tonight, the purpose would be different, this body would mark the beginning of a series of killings, one that would strike fear unto my future targets. Fear, it seems, is very effective in destroying common logic, which makes the hunt so much more interesting, challenging. Fun.

On this night, a new perfect assasin was born.