Portals To Another World

°The assassin°

Silent in the wind, she stands atop the tiled roof, looking down along her nose at the street. Her black hair flowing like silk in the cold breeze, he was sent to kill her, she has killed many people yet no one can connect her victims. She moves like water when she fights, her acting skills better than the best when blending into a crowd, her sword like an extension of her body. He has been on her trail for two weeks now, he is the only one who she hasn't caught yet, which was very surprising as he was the worst of all the people that the organization has sent in. He, of course, is very weary of that fact, everyday he takes even more precautions not to get caught, as everyone who she has caught following her has either died or been badly hurt.

He is crouching behind her on the roof, watching her carefully, if she looks around now, she would surely see him as the shadows are broken by the shallow light of the moon. Dressed in clothes that cling tightly to her with, most likely, concealed weapons, she almost blended into the black night sky that is studded with twinkling stars. As far as he can tell she is watching someone on the street below, possibly her next victim. Suddenly he catches a glint of metal and sees her pull a small dagger from one of her many sercret pockets, she steps forward and drops from the roof. He crawls slowly towards the edge to see her slit a man's throat, he slumps to the ground and she steps away, cleaning her blade on a piece of fabric that she ripped from the man. Clasping the man's ankle, she drags him into the shadows, with the ripped fabric she then cleans the spilled blood. He will give her one thing, she does the job well. He looks towards the man whose neck is at an unnatural angle in the gutter. When he looks back at the woman she is staring right at him. He scrambles backwards, desperately trying to get away from the edge. She's caught him. He's dead, he thinks to himself, he's a dead man now, he has really blown it. Now it's only a matter of how long until she finds him. He turns to run, only to see her standing behind him at the window. How the hell did she get up here so fast?! But she doesn't take out a weapon or move to kill, she is still watching him like a statue.

After what seems like a million years she slowly moves towards him with feline grace, stepping on the tiles like stepping on carpet, silent and soft. Too scared to move an inch, the man raises his hand in a gesture of peace she just stops walking and looks at him. As if assessing him. Then she speaks and her voice is as soft and light as her steps,
"I knew you were on my trail every step you took. The others weren't like you, that is why I made sure they... Stopped following me and stopped reporting back to whoever you work for. But you, as I said, are not like the others. I will not harm you or anyone you love. I will not harm anyone under your protection if that is what you wish. Just know that I only kill if I have a good reason and, trust me, these people are not good people and I have good reason. One that I can not yet tell you, but when I can, you will see that I am not the bad person as they have told you about. Do you understand everything I have said?"

The woman looks down on him as he processes everything,

"Yes. I think so. Why can you not tell me what links your victims?"

She stares at him, assessing again, suddenly she moves towards him, sending the man crawling backwards. She sits down cross legged beside him,

"Because you won't have any proof to prove what I would tell you is true. The only person who has enough proof is the person who sent you to follow me. But he has something against me and wants to see me dead."

He takes another minute to process it. All the time she sits so still it is unnerving, for a second he thinks she's not breathing, only to see her breath turn to mist above her mouth. After awhile, she turns to him and asks does he have any questions. When he shakes his head, she stands up again and with that same feline grace, like silk, she moves towards the edge of the roof.
The sky looks like someone spilled the colours of sunrise over it, the paint not dry on the canvas, that of the sky, the rain falling from the few clouds. The orange light hitting the woman as she turns around to look at him, the light making her figure outline glow. She only nods and falls backwards.

He starts and scrambles to the edge to see if she's okay, he yells in surprise when he sees her clinging to the wall with her hands and knees, the sheer wall, how does she do it? She looks up at him and smiles, showing her teeth, she then drops to the ground and calmly walks away. Whistling all the time.