(dont have a story name yet)

Prologue
A man comes into view, far off to my right. He is running at full sprint. Even from this distance, I can see him ramming into people, knocking them over and sending them sprawling. As he draws closer, I see his face. The look on his face is one of pure terror. I recognize that he isn’t running to something, but running away from something. Or maybe, someone. When he starts to reach the place where I am kneeling, I rise to my feet and step into his path. He tries to slow down, but can’t stop in time for me to grab him around waist in a football-like tackle. I chose this place perfectly; the bushes behind me would hide the activities about to take place. I put him over my shoulder, and hopped into the bushes, popping out on the other side with just a few more scratches. I slammed my target down on the ground, stomping on his gut to knock the air out of him. I turned him onto his stomach, tied up his hands then sat him up in front of me. I pulled my knife out, stroked his face with it, and I started talking to him,
“If you scream, I’ll stab you in the thigh and let you bleed to death. Now, answer my questions. Who are you?” In response, he spat in my face. I pulled up his pants leg and start drawing light lines across his skin, not hard enough to pierce the skin.
“I’m waiting…” I see the fear start to grow in his eyes, then disappears with rage.
“Damn you. I am the co-owner of Nest, which you already know I assume.”
“Who are you working with.”
“My boss, and a few other co-owners.”
“Names, Mr. Stevenson. Or I start my cutting.” He glares at me before continuing.
“…You know the boss. Then there’s Adam Nuger. Leah Price. And Peter Udol. Any more questions?”
“Nope, now its time for me to go.”
“And what are you going to do with me?” He finally let the fear creep into his eyes and his voice.
“You are going to stay right here.” I say as I start to walk away. I turn after 4 steps, listen to his grumbling and trying to untie his bonds. I silently creep towards him, my knife in my hand. I grab him again, holding his mouth as I stab him in the chest, feeling my blade cutting through muscle, scratching the ribs before pressing into his heart. I turn his head as he dies, and I smile deep into his eyes as he breathes his last. I stood up, grabbed him underneath his shoulders and tugged him up by the tree. I stuck a gun in his hand, my cheap pocket knife in the other, and put the forged suicide note in his pocket. As I stand up, I turn and walk slowly away, pulling my hood back over my face as I think, one down, 4 to go.


I edited the original prologue, to make it seem more realistic of a modern day beginner assassin.
Please do not post feedback here. I will be making a feedback thread soon. Thank you.

 

Chapter 1
I walk along the sidewalk, thinking of my first assassin job, when I get almost knocked over by a kid on a bike. I stare at him until he is out of sight, then turn and walk away, sighing. I remember being that young.
‘Except when you were that young, you had already killed 3 people.’
‘Molly, you know its rude to look into my head without my permission, right?’
‘Yeah I’ve heard it before, but I still do it. Aren’t I such a rebel?’ A brown dog comes out of an alley close by, looking at me before coming to my side.
‘Yeah, a rebel who hates the smell of blood’
‘Would you rather me love blood and bring dead rats and birds to your porch every day?’
‘Touche’ I think as I walk up the stairs to my apartment. As I pull out my keys, my mind goes again to that first mission. I’d killed before, as Molly had mentioned, but it had been the first one I had been paid to do. I look around my humble house, taking in the fold up table in the middle of my living room to my right, to the tiny kitchen in the back, to the stairs leading to my room and the bathroom. I walk up the creaking stairs, into my room, taking off my warm zip-up jacket as I walk by the AC, turning the cold air on. As I sit down on my bed, I think back to my first kill,

It had been when I was 11. My great-uncle seemed to have an interest in young men. He cornered me in an alley one day when we were walking, and was trying to push me up against the wall, unbuttoning his pants as he did so. I tried pushing him away, and he pushed me onto my hands and knees. I smacked the ground hard; bloodying up my palms. As he starts to pull my pants down, I grabbed a broken beer bottle and turned around, swinging it randomly. It slashed his face, and he cried in pain. He stood back up and started approaching me again, looking mad as hell. I threw the bottle at him again, it hit him in the chest. I grabbed a shard from the pile of beer bottles behind me, and I stabbed him in the eye. He screamed bloody murder, but I didn’t let up. I kept pushing it in until it was more in his head than wasn’t. As he died, I pulled my pants back up and started to walk away. I didn’t go home that night; I slept behind the nearby McDonalds. My uncles body was found a day later, and I showed up at the house later that same day, blood all over my shirt. My mom was going crazy, trying to figure out what happened to her son and brother. I didn’t give away a thing, just walked into my room and tore off those clothes. I didn’t talk very much, except to myself.
‘My first kill was only in self-defense, but it started me on the path I’ve gone on to get here’ I thought to myself, coming back to present time.

 

There is an artery in the side of the thigh that, if nicked, you bleed out faster than if you were to get your neck slashed. GodMod, don't think you'll win this one as I go to a medical school and learn about this type of thing everyday. Thank you and goodnight.