1 Pitiful End

As night drew in and the shadows from the shining sun turned darker, in a small cabin a couple of kilometers away from the nearest city, the voices of multiple people could be heard: "Hoi, wakey wakey sunshine", a tall burly man with short brown hair styled in a slicked back manner spoke in a gleeful manner.

"Ughh.. I don't understand what you get out of this, Marco'', said the barely conscious man in his reclining chair. "Haha! You know as well as I Chris, I've always been a money-man! This isn't personal".

"Tch.. why don't you just get on with it?" Chris said in annoyance. "Considering our line of business, you ought to understand I'm not gonna spill anything".

"Tthaha, you're right about that.. Still, it was worth a shot considering I got to see you bleed a bit".

''You sadistic fuck'', Chris answered back in what seemed to be a passive tone, but there was no denying the spite in his voice.

Being quite cheerfull, Marco couldn't hold back his laugh and bellowed: "Hahaha! No wonder we worked so well together, you surely know me well".

"Hey! Marco, It's time! We gotta get going already!" Three men clad in dark clothes, seemingly blending in with the dark of night shouted from outside the small shabby cabin. Considering their tone of voice they had been waiting outside for quite a while.

"Calm your tits, man! I'm just finishing up here!" Marco shouted back, clearly not caring about the displeased reactions of the men waiting outside. "Now then.. I'll make this quick and easy, don't worry." Moving towards Chris's back, he couldn't help but feel amused about the state of his former peer.

A couple of days a go they had both received a mission from their employer. After having worked together for the last 2 years they seemed to be doing quite well and they had earned quite a sum of money from their hits. However, unbeknown to both their employer and Chris, Marco had been secretly working for their organizations competitors. He'd been tasked to gather as much information as possible in the last 3 years, giving details about their missions, locations and all the data he could gather. Although it shouldn't have been a lot, it seemed to be enough for Marco to end his time as an undercover spy and killing of one of the most talented assassins of the Creed organization.

Apparently, from what Marco had gathered, Chris had been a part of the organization since he was six years old. He'd been trained continuously until he reached the age of sixteen where he got himself his first hit. From there it was a smooth sailing and he had continued to do solo missions until the organization deemed he was ready for more important targets, and thus having to work with a partner. As Marco had begun working for Creed at the age of 13 and was now 28 they thought it would be the perfect duo, and it probably would've been if not for Marco jumping ships.

Blood, teeth, and nails were splattered around in the barely moonlit room. Aside from his nearly closed left eye and dark hair which was now messy and were stained with crimson after what seemed to be a blow to the top of his head, there didn't seem to be any place left that wasn't left with a bruise, cut or a first degree burn.

'It seems this is it huh..' Thought Chris while sighing out in an unnoticeable breath. 'I wonder what she is up to now.. regardless of what happens to Creed I hope they won't get any information on her. Well, it should be safe considering it isn't even in the records.'

With a slow motion Marcos hand reached for the knife's hilt, fingers curling around it with practiced ease. The scabbard made a soft, muffled sound as it slid against its fabric. As Marco stood from behind, his knife moved to the front of Chris' throat. Although he knew what was coming, Chris couldn't help but feel frustrated and reluctant to go.

He'd been living most of his life in the slums of the world, doing nothing but following the organizations orders and carrying out their missions. While he didn't remember much about his early days when first getting brought in to Creed. He was well aware that he had no normal childhood. Being brought up and trained to the job of an assassin didn't really give a lot of time to play or watch movies. Still after taking his first life at the age of sixteen he can't say he ever felt too sorry or had much of an reaction. As he had grown up in a culture of death and constant training, it was close to all he knew.

However, now sitting under the hilt of the blade about to take his life, he felt his throat tighten, and his chest heavy, making it hard to breathe. He tried to hold back the tears, to keep his emotions in check, but it was a losing battle. A silent tear fell down his left side cheek, and the blade moved. Just as it reached the side of his throat and barely touching Chris' skin, a single drop of blood was sliding down towards his collarbone.

For a moment, everything stood still. The world around seemed to fade away, and there was nothing except a deafening silence. The air felt thick, almost tangible, as if it were alive with the energy of the moment. Then, just as suddenly, a living force that seemed to take on a life of its own could be felt. A tingling sensation that started at the outer layer of skin and carefully spreading throughout the body like wildfire. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a sense of power and danger that threatened to overwhelm them all.

'What the fuck', was the resounding thought through the majority of the human population and then it all went black.