Death.

 The sound of thunder rumbling in the sky and the appearance of lightning forks were a sign that it was about to rain cats and dogs on the land of Woamwood. 

 The residents hurriedly packed their belongings and fled into the safety of their homes.

 The rain began to pour, slowly at first, but with time it increased and as it poured, it was accompanied by strong wind. 

 While everyone stayed in their rooms, hiding under the comfort of their warm blankets, Mark Rowntree was facing the shadow of death.

 While others were shivering because of the cold, he was shivering from horror. While others had their bodies covered because of the chills brought by the cold rain, he was sweating buckets. 

 He tried to escape the black rope figure who was intent on having his head. He couldn't believe that he fell under the wanted list of the assassin. 

 No matter how fast he ran, he wasn't able to outrun the assailant, who was swift-footed as a feline. He was caught and dragged back to his study room. 

 No one heard his cry for help as the thunder drowned out his voice. It was as if the rain, and thunder were in cohorts with the assassin. 

 "Please don't kill me. I beg of you, I have a family to take care of. I will give you anything, just tell me what you want," Mark cried out pleading with the assassin. His face was full of tears and snort that it was horrendous even to the assailant. 

 The assassin, dressed entirely in black with only his black eyes revealed, made a gesture with his hand for Mark to wipe his face and nose and the latter hastily did as told. 

 Taking a quill and a blank sheet, he wrote, 'give me anything of value,' after writing, he put it up for Mark to see it.

 "Yes, yes," mark quickly ran to one side of his study. He pulled open a side of his shelf to reveal a compartment filled with gold and precious jewels. 

 "You can have all of it, please don't kill me," he said, looking hopefully at the person. In his heart, however, he wept over losing his fortune to bribe a killer to spare his life. 

 He vowed to catch the killer after he was spared and he would pay back for what he suffered. His thoughts were revealed through his eyes as he unknowingly glared at the assassin. 

 "Its not as if I wouldn't still kill you," came the cold words of the assassin, and before Mark could decipher the voice to know which gender it was, a sharp object pierced through his throat, shutting him up forever. 

 Mark's eyes were filled with horror, despair and sorrow. He died without seeing or knowing who killed him. 

 The assassin quickly fetched a bag made of sac and began to load the gold coins and jewels into it. Although Mark was an average man in the kingdom, he was able to stash a lot of money. Partly from swindling the poor and his dirty business. 

 After taking all the gold, with nothing left, the assassin dropped a note on the desk and left the room.

 The dark corridors were a good camouflage for him to escape the mansion unnoticed. He took a look at the dark house once more, that was gloomy and would turn gloomier by the morning before walking away under the rain, and into the darkness. 

 The next morning, the agonized cry of a woman woke the surrounding neighbors around Mark's home, and attracted the attention of people. And by the time it became brighter a large number of people had gathered around. 

 "Is he really dead? I saw him just yesterday," someone amongst the crowd questioned, looking towards the house. 

 "We heard the lady's cry this morning and rushed here. We found his body hanged on the shelf. It was covered in body, he was killed by a stab through his throat," one of Mark's neighbors explained. He was one of the few men who came to help after hearing the cry of Mark's wife. 

 A black carriage pulled over in front of the house and a man dressed in expensive clothes stepped out. His blood red eyes revealed his identity as a night creature. His aura was filled with bloodlust and rage.

 He walked hastily into the house and was led by one of the maids to the study room.

 There were already four people in the room, three men and one woman, assessing the murdered man and jotting down what was found in the room. 

 "Good morning Lord Haywood," the woman greeted first with a slight bow. She was a blonde girl with pale red eyes and from the court. Eliana West.

 Lord Haywood nodded to acknowledge her before his eyes fell on the dead man that was placed on the table. There was blood all over his face and his body, but the only visible wound was the stab on his throat. 

 He was one of the lords of the land and Mark was one of his people. His hands were clenched by his side as he stared at the dead man.

 "It might have looked like a robbery but we have come to a conclusion that it is the assassin," Eliana said, looking at the lord's furious countenance.

 Lord Haywood gazed at her with his red eyes, his lips curled up with a dangerous smirk that sent shivers down the woman's spine. "What did he leave behind?" He asked. 

 Eliana, collected the paper from the table had handed it to Haywood. The letter was written in blood, Mark's blood. 

 Haywood grabbed the letter to see what was written. His eyes narrowed as he read it aloud,

 'he offered me the gold and jewels. I didn't steal anything'.

 Lord Haywood laughed at the content of the letter. His voice cold and menacing that it made the rest of the people in the room uncomfortable. 

 He crumpled the piece of paper in his hand, his red eyes blazed with unrestrained rage, promising vengeance to the assassin.