Silent Assassin

Chapter 4

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The continuous annoying sound entered my hearing, waking me up from my slumber.

Groaning in pain and exhaustion, I tried to stand up from where I laid on the floor but the pain in my stomach prevented me from doing so. As slowly as possible, I bowed my head to get a better look at the wound I had: A large cut that had pierced my stomach, too large to survive from but I impossibly did. The image of the wound looked like it wasn't real though, and I couldn't cease myself from lifting up a hand to touch the gash. As soon as my finger touched the surface of the cut, pain ignited from my entire body causing me to almost cry out loud.

It's real all right.

Lifting the hand once more, I searched my belt for any painkillers I could have brought with me. Feeling the lump of the pill, I sighed in relief and brought two out before swallowing them whole without any water.

Lying there for a whole five minutes, I decided to try and stand up again, relieved that the pain had lessened. Slowly standing up from my lying position, I gritted my teeth in discomfort, as I applied pressure on my feet and almost fell over if not for the island counter beside me. As I leaned on the counter, I waited for a small amount of strength to return before trying to take a careful step forward as I clutch my wound. My foot shook from the effort and I waited for myself to collapse to the ground but was surprised to see that it held.

Glancing around my surroundings, I observed the mess in the kitchen: pans and kitchen utensils everywhere like a hurricane entered the room, scratches on walls, ceiling and furniture with puddles of blood on the floor.

I became motionless for a while as I tuned into my hearing for any signs of life in the house since I was not sure if I could defend myself if the protector was nearby. Fortunately, I heard nothing.

They must have left when they thought I was dead.

Pursing my lips, I lifted a hand up to check my features if I truly was alive and not in hell. Still feeling my skin, though a little cold, I doubted myself. Picking up a throwing knife on the floor to scratch a small portion of my palm, I felt pain in my hand and grudgingly decided that I truly was alive.

"There is no mercy in battle. Only the winner... and the dead." A slight whisper of what my recent trainer had first taught me materialized in my head.

I blinked my blank eyes once. The protector is the winner... and I should be dead.

Knowing I couldn't return to the Silent Society in failure- since it'd disappoint my honor and I'd have to, probably, start training all over again- a suggestion suddenly came to me: What if I'd kill myself?

At first, the thought sounded idiotic, but the more I thought of it, the stronger the urge for suicidal grew inside of me. Finally deciding and ignoring the rational thought from the back of my head, I gripped the weapon in my hand tightly and I moved it to hover above my heart. My eyes fluttered to a close as I sent a silent prayer to my parents before slowly counting to three. At the end of the last number, I was about to plunge it in, to stop my worthless living, when a crash of pans sounded behind me. Startled out of my thoughts, I instinctively threw the weapon in my hand to its direction.

Hearing no sounds of pain, I swiftly turned around to face the intruder. My brows slightly furrowed when I saw nothing and was about to think myself as hallucinating, when the sound of a cat's meow sounded in front of me.

My gaze slowly dropped to see a black cat lying on the ground in boredom, its exotic green eyes gazing at me in observation. The furrow of my brows slightly deepened when I noticed the curved edge of my weapon sticking right beside it.