shadow

The Shadow
By Joshua Lyrock
The moon was hidden behind a bank of clouds as the shadow slipped silently into the dark city and began to stalk its lonely streets. He searched the tall oppressive building windows looking for a flutter of red cloth that marked his intended target’s window. Dark piercing eyes scanned the windows and suddenly there it was a slight flutter of red coming from one of the bigger buildings. His target was not a nice man he made his fortune by stepping on the backs of hard working people and running many of them into poverty and in some cases to an early grave. He approached the massive building and started the grueling climb. The rough abrasive stone left small cuts and scratches on the craggy palms of his hand. Yet he continued on unfazed by theses minor ailments slowly but surely he made his way up and up. He reached for another stone and clutched on to it but his weight was to much the stone came loose and his hand hung over oblivion. A small sense of fear entered his mind as he contemplated the drop which would surely kill him. He swung his hand back to the wall scrabbling for a handhold as the muscles in his other hand strain to hold his weight. By luck his searching hand found a stone that jutted out he grabbed for dear life to the rough granite surface and thanked whatever dark god guided his hands tonight. Finally at long last his hands found the windowsill. He stepped lightly on the sill and stood looking like a dark god himself. His cold eyes took in the scene before him a massive man with skin the color of chalk lay before him on sheets of the highest quality satin. The man disgusted him and he would feel a great satisfaction for removing this scum from the earth. He drew a dagger balanced and cruel by design.
As he held the knife tip in deft fingers he judged the distant and let the blade fly he saw a silvery ark and then watched as the dagger buried hilt deep in the man’s pillow. The man startled by this sudden intrusion of his dreams snatched up his sword and bellowed a challenge at the assassin. HE charged the cloak figure mighty blade swinging down in a blow that would have spilt him head to toe had the Shadow not parried the strike with his own short sword. As their blades locked in a deadly clash The Shadows grip slipped, allowing the man’s blade to slash downward. By luck he moved back fast enough to suffer little but a cut or so he thought but as turned for retaliation his hood fell away reveling the Shadows face beneath. The man stunned by what he saw gave the Shadow just the edge he needed to escape. As he slipped from the city he felt a sense of dread his master was not kind to those that failed him and often made examples of such failures. A few days later he returned to his hideout hoping his masters raged had cooled; this was a deadly mistake for as he entered his master threw his own dagger. The blade punctured through his spine essentially crippling him. As was tradition he made an example of the shadows failure and allowed his pupils to use his broken crippled form as practice for their own skills.