Assassin to the Prince of Death

Chapter 2: One More Test

Short Chapter. Sorry. But a short chapter means early update next chapter! Please tell me what you think and enjoy! Comment, Vote, and Have fun! Thanks <3

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I awake in a flash as something cold licks my feet. My senses flicker to life as my eyes scan my prison; a glass box with cold water seeping in and me trapped inside. Oh how un-original. Not to mention I was chained to a chair with my hands and legs bound to the chair. I squint, trying to see what was outside.

I blink, my hands twisting behind me and then I was free from my chains that were holding my hands. I throw the splinter from the wooden chair I used to unlock myself into the steadily rising icy water. I lean forward, using another splinter near the bottom of the chair to unlock my feet. The chains flop into the water before sinking into the already knee deep water. I look towards the darkness that surrounded the glass box and stare at one point. My eyes narrow at the empty space and as if on cue, the water starts to flow in more rapidly. I can't help but mentally smirk though my face was still its monotone look that it always is.

I waited peacefully, treading around the water, pretending to try to figure out how to escape. Soon enough, the water reached my shoulders and my raven black hair began sticking to my body, as did the rest of my clothing. My body started to act more terrified, trying to trick those watching, as the water reached my throat and above. I swim up to the top of the prison and take one last large gulp of air before sinking into the water. I start to pound at the glass, screaming and pretending to be fighting to escape. I wait... and wait.... and wait.... Two minutes are up.... Normal humans are out of air.

I float numbly up to the top of the glass tank, my eyes shutting as if I drown. Then I duck. The glass explodes open, and a second later, a gunshot is heard. The water whooshes out, carrying me with it. I crash into the cold concrete floor, gasping, coughing, and wheezing as I try to regain air. Yes, I can hold my breath longer than most humans. That is one helpful trick of being an Assassin Tracker, even if it still is difficult to do so.

I look up, panting deeply as I look up at the hidden eyes of the Prince of Death. His posture showed hints of mischief and deadly power as he looked down upon me, even if he was mostly hidden by his cloak. If I wasn't almost killed, and if I wasn't a Tracker Assassin, I would be awed at his perfect form. He was physically fit with luscious black hair, a sturdy jawline, muscular, and the hint of a black tattoo peaking up from the corner of his t-shirt; even if I have never seen his face.

"Did I pass?" I pant, still on my hands and knees. Another coughing fit takes me and I hear the Prince take a step toward me. I was instantly on my feet, my breath restored. "Don't touch me!" I hiss, taking a step away. "You kissed me! You gave me a kiss of death!" I stare bravely, and probably stupidly, into his eyes, challenging his authority.

The Prince of Death sighs, putting his hands up in surrender. The three white lab coated people behind him quickly scribble something on their notepads. The Prince of Death looks toward one of his fellow lab coats that were behind him and the lab coat spoke: "He won't. But he had to kiss you. The kiss of Death would be the only way we would get you to fall asleep and awaken when we need you to." He says. "Though you awakened earlier..." He mumbles to himself.

I growl, "What do you want from me?"

The Prince takes a step closer and I take an equal step back. He sighs and snaps his fingers. Whispy large hands appear in the air and wrap around me. They were made up of a purplish smoke, and were easily larger than me. I hiss in fear, squirming with all my might.

He takes a step in front of me and I growl at him. He smirks touching my cheek ever so gracefully, "A little doggie with lots of bark but no bite." His voice was robotic, as if to muffle his real voice.

His hand was ice cold to the touch and I snarl in uncomfortableness. Everyone knows that the touch of death kills you! Yet, it didn't kill me.

He pushes my head to the right and his hand skims the dark grey tattoo on my left cheek. My eyes told people I was a tracker, but my tattoo said what Tracker power I had. All Trackers had tattoos on either their left or right cheek. Left cheek meant you were owned by royalty, right cheek meant you were a peasant Tracker. The best of the best had their tattoos imprinted on their left cheeks. These tattoos were also constantly changing their design on each person. If a person became stronger, their tattoo might take the design of a lion. If that person became more pattern-aware, their tattoo would change into a more patterned design.

I snap my head forward, out of the Prince's grasp, growling at him, "Stick your fingers a little closer and I'll show you how this doggie bites!"

The Prince of Death tilts his head and smirks. The lab coat speaks up, "The Prince says: Nah. I would rather see you bite your opponents. Good night Ms.Tracker."

The Prince clicks his tongue and I pass out.

God damn kiss that controls me now....Stupid Prince of Death... You know what, BEEP HIM.