| 1| Assassins Saga |Completed| Editing

Assassins Of Yesterday - 19

~~ I don't know. He's dead. ~~

Jacob was awoken by the sound of gunshots being fired. His head throbbed, sending painful waves surging through his body. He was in a cell, lying on the freezing, dirty floor. He noticed he only wore one shoe while his other foot was only covered by a mud-covered sock. He touched his immaculately starched shirt. Stains of blood were imprinted around the collar, causing the starchiness. A blood line was also crusty along his hairline.

He groaned, closing his eyes as bright light spilled into the dark room. "Get up boy!" His ears were still able to pick up the sound of a lock clicking and pop open. The rusty cell door screamed as the man swung it open, carelessly. The man, grunting, yanked up the boy without a care while the other scolded at him. "Unless you want to get shot, I suggest you handle him with more care. Your life depends on his survival."

The man holding Jacob simply grunted and loosened his hold on the boy's collar, muttering incoherent words under his breath. Jacob eyes were blurry and he couldn't focus on the blurry figures in the room. He was beyond dizzy and the boy began to wonder if they had drugged him when they took him. Jacob could only remember stepping out of the house for a walk. Everything afterward was a blur.

Although his world was spinning, Jacob was able to stand and search around the room. He noticed the clothes folded neatly on the end of the massive bed and a white towel with a pair of sneakers and socks beside it. He hesitantly took the material and took them along with him as he went into the bathroom. The door made no sound as he opened it and closed it again. With silence, the boy removed his ruined clothes and waltzed into the shower.

He couldn't help but wonder what the people who took him wanted. He remembered the man saying that he was the kindred. Were they talking about his mother? Did she do something terrible to them that they decided to hit her with what would hurt her the most? And if she did, what did she do?

Thoughts filled his head and ideas were admitted and dismissed as well. The boy just could not wrap his mind around the thought that he was captured for whatever reason. But he needed to remain calm and find a way out.

Once out, Jacob dried himself and got dressed into the clothing supplied and shoes. He ran a hand through his dark, wet hair and sighed. He was caught by surprise when he opened the bathroom door. On the bed, a woman he never saw before sat. He admired the auburn, curly splashes that the woman owned and the bright green speckles in her eyes. There was something about the woman that seemed familiar, but he could not put his finger on it. I know that woman from somewhere.

"Come honey. Someone is waiting for you." The woman extended her hand out to reach for the towel which he reluctantly gave up, and she threw it into the closet in a bin. The woman then led Jacob down the staircase towards a secluded door. Immediately, when the door was opened, the light was drawn in. The office was spacious and decorated with large bookshelves.

Behind a wooden desk, sat a man. A middle-aged man with wrinkles spreading over his face and a grouchy appearance. The dark eyes of the man pierced through Jacob's confused ones, earning a shiver from the boy. "Sit down Jacob."

The woman beside him turned around and walked out of the office, quickly followed by the numerous guards there. The office was suddenly quiet, the only sound that seemed to fill the air was the ragged breathing of Jacob and a mixture of confusion and tension. Jacob returned the stare the man gave him to which the man did not back down. It amused him. The man was amused by the fact that Jacob was almost identical to his mother. They both shared the same eyes, the same personality, and probably the same weapons taste. But their intelligence was too different.

"Jacob, do you know what your mother works as?" Jacob's head tilts in confusion. Of course, he did. He had been to her office many times before and even attended a few meetings. "Of course I do."

"Do you know why you are here?" He shook his head. "No, I don't." Phoenix sighed. "Who's your father?" This question in particular got Jacob mad. "That is none of your business."

"I will repeat the question and I want an answer. Who is your father?" Jacob looked away. "I don't know. He's dead."

"You know your mom has been lying to you right?" Jacob narrowed his eyes. "No, she hasn't." The man chuckled at the boy's ignorance. "Yes, she has. Your mother is an assassin. You know, the people that go around and kill people for money." Jacob scoffed. "You don't know what you're talking about. I've been to her office and I've attended a few meetings. She doesn't kill people. She's an executive in the computer industry."

"Or so she has made you think. Tell me, Jacob, what are you doing here in the good old peach state?" The boy didn't hesitate. "Business." Phoenix smiled. "You are semi-correct. Your mom is here to finish off a 'business' deal. She's here to kill someone. Or should I say, people?"

Jacob shook his head. He didn't want to believe the man. He knew his mother was fascinated by how guns and knives operated but he knew it was her hobby. Sword-fighting. But it all somehow made sense in his head. Nonetheless, he wanted to see proof. "I won't believe until I see it myself."

The man laughed out in happiness. "Thought you would never ask." With an evil smile that sent shivers down Jacob's spine, he clicked on the TV remote and the big screen lit up. The video his men found in his wives house began to play. Jessica's voice filled the room; the threats about hurting his wife and unborn child. The man looked at Jacob, watching the boy stand and walk towards the television while Jacob watched his mother on the tape. He didn't want to believe it. But, the proof was playing before his very eyes. There was coldness in her eyes and venom slipping out of her voice.

"...If by then, I do not have any response," she paused. Snatching out a knife, she pressed the sharp blade on the woman's neck, hard enough to draw out some blood. "You'll be having a package delivered."

"Who are you?" Jacob questioned the man as he turned away from the big screen. He watched the man approach him slowly. His left arm extended and he shook Jacob's palm. "Phoenix Jackson. I'm your grandfather."

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