The large, heavy wooden door slams shut behind me, the noise echoing down the long corridor that I now face.

The passageway, without the bright light from the hall I have just been in, is dark and foreboding. Most of the torches are missing, only allowing me to see the general direction in which I must walk.

A servant's oversight? I think not.

I look around at the rough and uneven stone walls, so odd in a castle this opulent. They will not be my allies tonight, these walls, as they have been in the past. Their uneven surfaces greedily swallow up the torchlight, and cast strange shadows on the walls. My eyes cannot adjust, though usually so good in the dark. I know what is coming.

I allow a curse to escape my lips.

I am Shadow, the assassin.

Shadow is the name that my lord gave me when I was chosen for my post. I was so young then, my mane not yet grown. My old name before this I have long forgotten. I always wished someone had know, and called me by it. Just once.

So I am told, I was without a family, surviving in whatever way I could manage, mostly scavenging. I really don't remember, maybe I don't want to.

Many people are scared by my kind; I say my kind, though I have never met another like me. I have heard the many legends though of the beast men who were once created by an ancient mage, only to be cast out and left to wander fruitlessly and survive in whatever way may be necessary. My way of surviving these many years has been through death. The irony is not wasted on me.

I can feel the effects of the alcohol in my system fading as I stare down the corridor. The strange sobering effect of the dimly lit passage makes me think how stupid I have been this night, thinking myself so strong yet allowing myself to become so weak.

I remember when my future masters found me they brought me here, so unlike the world I had known. Two guards had taken me from the outskirts of the city, taking me to the keep in the centre. None of the people had ever seen anything like me before, with my sharp fangs and golden eyes, and even though bound the townsfolk kept their distance and stared.

The guards flanked me all the way to the heavy wooden doors of the lord's manor, with its stone outer wall towering above us. One of them went to the door, saying something to a slit in the wood. The huge wooden portal opened to take me to a place that I would never have imagined in my wildest dreams. As they led me in I was amazed. I felt like I was watching from a distance, or listening to a half remembered story told by one of the old men from the streets. It didn't feel like it was really happening to me.

The interior was just as, if not more, incredible. Leading me past many colourful tapestries, which I know now took many lives to acquire, and large halls built from the finest stone that could be mined. We finally arrived at a small door. I was told to go in and I did so, partly out of curiosity and partly because there was nothing left to lose, if I ever had anything to lose in the first place.

The room that I stood in was warmer than the others, maybe not physically, but it was certainly the most inviting I had , have ever seen. My eyes went straight to the fireplace that burned fiercely. A man sat in a chair adjacent from it, his long hair tied back away from his face, his clothing seemed. well, expensive to say the least. He smiled at me, warmly.

"I am Lord Ivan," he said simply. I knew his name, and the tales that were told about him, but I did not flinch, thought terrified beyond anything I had felt before. "You are just what I have been looking for, beast-man." He stood up and walked towards me, is every step punctuated by the sound of tough leather on the stone floor. Each step sounding to me like my own death knell.

He pushed his face against my own. He could smell my fear, which according to the old legends, I should have been doing.

"Serve me and I will give you anything you desire. If you refuse I will kill you where you stand." He said, his eyes impassive, impossibly cold.

I said I would. I think at the time I promised him my total loyalty, and possibly the fur from my hide. Well, what would you say?

There and then he gave me my name, and my new task. I was to be his assassin. I think at the time I swore to him that I would be the best he had ever seen. I was truly frightened by him. I still am.

The training was long and gruelling, always feeling the days passing by more like years. Every day I would become more competent with the tools of my trade. The stealth the gods had given me made me perfect for it. Even though most of the training will stay with me until death, some now second nature to me, I cannot remember the lessons and how I came to know these things. The thing that I will never forget is the first kill. My lord told me that a person never forgets their first kill, and I am inclined to agree.

One night very long ago, Lord Ivan summoned me to his chamber and told me I was to execute someone within the castle walls. My victim was to be groggy from drink and fine food, returning from a feast.

"Kill him." Lord Ivan said, his cold eyes seeming to look into my soul. They made me shiver. "Are you afraid?" he asked, seeing my discomfort. I just shook my head, and then left the chamber when dismissed.

My tail twitched nervously of it's own accord as I readied myself, darkening my tan fur with paint and tying the small sword to my belt. My arrogance would fool no one if they saw me now. Time came all too quickly when I found myself in the shadows, waiting for my prey. Some of the torches had been removed from the walls, the uneven walls casting large shadows in which I could conceal myself.

I waited. If there was one thing that my years of training had taught me, it was patience.

Finally the heavy wooden door opened, admitting a man to step through and into the dank hallway. I see him briefly in the light, his hair greying at the temples, but then the heavy door shuts behind him plunging him into shadow again. He stood there in the doorway, not moving, for another little eternity. I thought that he might have sensed me somehow, now waiting for me to make the first move. Without warning he flicked one edge of his black cloak over is shoulder, making his sword hilt more accessible. My eyes widened, he did know I was there. My heart pounded heavy in my ears, so hard I thought he would have been able to hear it too.

He made hardly any noise, gliding towards me. I held my breath, hoping he would just walk past, survival my only thought as it had been all those years before. He was next to me when my nerves made me shift. He went for his sword, but hesitated.

I took the chance.

The thick, hot blood covered my forearms, some spattered in my mane and facial fur. I could smell it so sweet and I can almost taste it. I wanted to stay and savour every moment. That smell, that taste of it in the back of my throat.

I remember my orders, and know I must escape . Anywhere.

I ran to a deserted square, I knew no one would be there and that I would be alone. The blood was beginning to dry on my fur, but still I could smell it, taste it. The run to the square had seemed like nothing, though normally I could never have done it so quickly. I could not feel the pain from my legs, all I could feel was the excitement, the bloodlust. I could resist it no longer and screamed in half joy, half pain at the sky.

I snap out of my reverie suddenly, and I am back in the dark corridor. I think I understand now.

My tail flicks nervously from side to side, again I will fool no one with bravado. I throw one side of my cloak over my shoulder and walk silently forward, my paws making no noise on the hard stone. I hear a noise and reach for my blade that has served me so well for these many years.

I hesitate, Even though I know hesitation will undoubtedly cause my demise but now it's too late to think about that.

A figure stumbles into an empty town square toward the water fountain. Her tan fur is covered in blood. She collapses in the square, panting, her heart pounding in her ears. The lioness tips back her head and screams at the sky, half in pain, half in joy.

She is Shadow, the assassin.