Author: The Yaoi Hime PM
An atheist Assassin's world is turned upside down as a new assignment throws him into a world of supernatural intrigue. Is his new target worth the price? Or is an all out brawl between heaven and hell more than he can handle? MM yaoi slashRated: Fiction T - English - Spiritual/Adventure - Chapters: 3 - Words: 31,188 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 01-08-08 - Published: 10-09-07 - id: 2424538
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Dearest one, child of the light shrouded in darkness. Come back from that place so long ago forgotten…the time comes for your return. Come forth from hiding and restore the balance long ago lost…
The voice that whispered in the silence of a cool night was glassy and near lifeless, chilling yet comforting and hinted towards some hidden meaning…it sent a shiver through the sleeping form before such dreams were interrupted by the resonant buzzing of an unwanted alarm, all memory of those words fading with the rising consciousness.
Golden hues of a setting sun streamed into the vastly empty room and spilled out across the tatami-matted floors. It was far from Dimitri's ideal to be stirring from his well earned slumber, and the dark haired Asian rolled over, pulling the blankets tight over his head. Even so, it was time to begin the evenings work, and he was never the kind to keep his work waiting. With a final groan he threw the blankets off and sat up, rubbing his eyes with a withdrawn yawn. A muffled mumbling sound of dissatisfaction slipped out from parted lips as he pulled himself to his feet and fumbled halfheartedly towards the bathroom. It was obvious; he was in desperate need of the power of cold shower and a cup of coffee.
As the water sprayed over his tanned skin he let out a gasp, patterned tattoos marking his back with painted wings now slicked over with the beaded wet liquid. They were a reminder of the past when he'd apprenticed at a tattoo parlor. That changed on the day he shot and killed his master… Another gasp as he lathered the soap and worked to cleanse himself…not that any amount of cleansing could wash the blood away that now stained his hands. This was his daily routine, washing away thoughts of what he'd done as if they'd meant nothing…because his conscience had now reached a point of non-existence. Cold blooded and hungry for the chase…he'd kill anyone…if the price was right.
The phone rang drawing the man from his dazed shower. Turning off the water, he quickly picked up the other end...and not so surprisingly was greeted by an overtly dissatisfied voice. "You have less four hours" it growled from the other end. "Our agreement was the job would be completed by the end of the month, so tell me, what's taking you so long?"
A twisted smile curled onto Dimitri's lips as he pulled the phone closer. This was his trademark… He was the best for a reason, and this time game was part of his method. "Senator, I assure you the job will be finished in the allotted time granted. I told you one month because that's simply how long I take. I won't let you down." His smirk widened as he grabbed a towel and threw it around his still dripping body. "And I trust you won't be letting me down either now will you?"
"If you finish your job as cleanly as you promised…you'll get your money" he snapped nervously, the phone on the other end disconnecting rather suddenly.
Another smile on the assassin's lips…the phone being nestled back into its cradle as he continued drying his damp skin. "Oh I assure you senator," he whispered to himself, "your daughter will be disposed of effectively at precisely eleven thirty this night." No gun, no weapons, that night, Dimitri's sole tool was his wits. He took hold of an outfit settled on a nearby sofa, pulling on first a tight fitted pair of white jeans and a soft white button front shirt, both adorned with cross décor, best suiting the nights final plans. He took his time, careful to make his kills as seamless as possible demanding one month flat for every assignment. Even the Senator, offering quarter a million dollars had been given the same conditions. It was a lot of money, but the killer's reputation was worth more…he would not fall short of what he'd promised.
With a grin he topped his outfit off with a white leather jacket the length of it coming down near his knees. White…it didn't suit him at all, but what better way, to convince a ten year old he was no less than one of god's own angels? He smiled again, unsure about the tattoo on his cheek…but she hadn't said anything of it yet…so it shouldn't have been a problem. He pulled his dark locks back into a small tie at the base of his neck revealing the multitude of silver that lined the length of his ears, and the crimson ankh placed just below his right eye. Crimson…the color of blood, this ankh was a symbol of his own life stained with the blood of others…an outward statement of his own awareness of what he'd done.
It was hard to tell what had ever changed the man so much from his childhood…not without knowing secrets only bore by the depths of his own subconscious. He'd seemed a normal child at one time, under the loving care of a young priest…but now…he was a creature of hate and vengeance, free from the curse of remorse. Unwilling to make friends, he abhorred those he met, those who hired him, those he took down, his parents…and especially…himself. A man born from hatred…his sole purpose in life was to end it for others. And it was because of this, Dimitri was fairly certain that had there been a god, he would have been its biggest mistake.
Such thoughts were interrupted by the tightening grip of the familiar darkness, his place of comfort. The oranges and violets had now subdued into a darkening indigo speckled with traces of drowned out stars, hidden by the ever present glow of street lamps and city light pollution. He could waste no time, and precision was the key. Grabbing his gun, he headed out the door, ready to take on his latest assignment…it would be a long night, but he had been working towards it. Chances were he wouldn't be needing the firearm clutched tightly between his fingers. It was instead a mere precautionary measure, in case something went wrong.
"Dimitri" The voice startled the assassin, enough so that his fingers tightened still around the grip of the hand gun. It was with caution he turned to face the source of the voice, prepared for anything that might come from the unexpected visitor. She was beautiful, pale soft features framed with feathery bangs curling about her face, died an equally pale hue of pink and pulled high into a strange wild sort of ponytail atop her head. There was nothing professional about her look, and yet she still came across as elegant and collected. "Are you Dimitri?
"Depends," He gritted his teeth a moment, not much in the mood to take on another job before he'd finished the one at hand. But she seemed intent on getting his attention and while he didn't have time to listen, he suspected not listening would prove in the end to be more time consuming than the latter. Willing away his annoyance he lowered his voice to one of near indifference, a hint of amusement buried in there as well. He didn't trust anyone, especially a pretty face. "Who wants to know?"
The girl's golden eyes narrowed, fingers coming up to touch the assassin's cheek. "Dear Dimitri, why are you so uncertain about me? I only came asking a favor…" She paused, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "…one that of course will be compensated monetarily." Raising an eyebrow she slipped her hand away, noticing his definitive twitch as he jerked back some from the personal contact. She was aware of this distrust for others, and still it was a fun little amusement to test it. "In fact, dear, we are willing to offer you thrice the sum of your current job, plus an added $250,000 upon completion."
A million dollars …that was a big job that left a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of the Asian's stomach. A pretty face, and an unreasonable sum of money, there had to be a catch…or it had to have been a really big fish. Even so, the thrill of the hunt was what he lived for. In a meaningless life, what else was there? And that was why thoughts of consideration filled his mind with hunger for more. "I'm listening."
"Come with me," The woman walked to a silvery pink sports car, opening the passenger door, "and I'll tell you more."
"And what makes you think I can trust you?"
"You cant," Another voice resounded from the car. This one was decidedly male, but not in the slightest bit threatening…which gave the assassin more reason still not to trust them. "But can you really trust anyone? I'm surprised an acclaimed hired killer such as your self would be so frightened of our proposition. Step in and hear out an opportunity for the hunt of a lifetime, or pass it up wondering about what could have been your chance to play the most extreme game of cat and mouse ever."
"…" enough to perk his interests definitely…but time was running out…and he had another job to finish. Silently he cursed them for not having come one day later, but what was to be done? He was curious…and wanted to know more. "If you try anything funny," He smirked stepping past the woman and moving to slide into the car through the open door, "don't think I can't, and won't, kill you."
"That's what I figured you'd say." Sliding into the car in the seat directly behind Dimitri her voice was now coming from lips pressed just behind his ear. The seeming advances only served to irritate the assassin all the more. He was ready to step out if they continued, but it seemed she noticed this as well, backing away and leaning back to nestle comfortably in her seat. "Don't worry dear, we have no reason to trick you…on the contrary, we believe we need you. We have a difficult job and in truth you are the only one who can pull it off."
Dimitri's eyes glanced up to take note of the man seated now next to him. Medium length brown tousled hair was teased with glitter gel, stout glasses that seemed hardly useful placed on the bridge of his nose. His fashion sense was stand offish and almost ridiculous like some nighttime performer. A tight fitted corset top hugged his tanned chest, and tight fitted pants made from sparkling denim gave way to the most flamboyant cross-dresser Dimitri had ever laid eyes on. Great…cross dressers…he hated them too. Nervously he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between pursed lips. "So…what makes you so certain I'm the man for this job?"
"Do not think we are not well researched Dimitri…" he eyes turned to stare out the window at the passing scenery mindlessly. "We know a lot about you…in fact…" Her crooked smile returned as she let out a soft chuckle. "I'd like to think we know everything about you. We have been keeping an eye on you for a long time. After all…we had to be certain you were unmistakably the one for this job."
More uncertainty from those words filled the Asian with a dreadful doubt that somehow still he managed to cast aside and ignore. Curiosity, lust for adventure…they were stronger than his common sense and he continued listening…wondering just how much they could possibly know about him.
Again, the pink haired debutante took note of his body language. "Did I say something to make you uncomfortable Mr. Nakai?" Again with that eyebrow, raising up behind her bangs as she leaned forward once more moving too close for his obvious comfort. It was far too much fun to watch him freeze at those words…the mention of his real name. "You research your victims to decipher the best way, time, and place, to kill them correct?" Cruel, playful, and always one step ahead of him, the woman's words stung, leaving Dimitri squirming in his seat. "In the same way we thoroughly research our potential clients."
"What exactly do you know about me," Dimitri's voice was quiet and cold, almost threatening and harsh. It was bad enough they knew a name he'd cast off ten years prior…but what other of his secrets had they uncovered. He let out a puff of smoke and took a long drag off the rolled up cancer stick. He felt sick to his stomach, and for the first time in a long time, trapped. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the cross-dresser seated next to him, clearing his throat.
"Real name: Nakai Atsushi, Age: 23. Japanese from birth you can speak small amounts of both Spanish and English, and can understand both languages fluently. You changed your name because of your profound hatred for your parents, whom you killed at the tender age of five. After being questioned by the police your intent behind the murder was ignored as mere accident and you were placed into an all boys orphanage. For a brief period of six months you were raised under the care of an ex-priest, but were left once again alone when he returned to America. Total kills: 628, not including the victims put into a comatose state or those rendered brain dead after having encountered you. Your killing style varies, depending on the target, but you usually befriend your victim and play your game before finishing them off." Pushing up his small glasses the cross-dresser let out a long near exasperated breath. "Anything else you want to know?"
Silence filled the car, leaving all its passengers vastly aware of each other's presence. Dimitri honestly didn't know how to respond. He couldn't allow himself to be scared, but the tension was enough to make him feel a little sick to his stomach. There was no way. Nobody should have known that much about him and yet here they were. His career, his hits, they were flawless, seamless, and without trace. How then, could they account for every one? These strangers, it seemed they knew more about him than even he did, and it had put him in a very uncomfortable position. They had him under their thumb…and there was little room for escape.
The assassin opened his mouth to say something when the car came to a halt in front of a worn down apartment complex deep in the heart of the city. His thought was quickly interrupted by the terrain around him, buildings dilapidated and falling apart. The streetlights, the ones that weren't shattered and burnt out, were dim and gave of an unpleasant unwelcome feeling to the residency.
"Here we are," the young woman muttered stepping out from the car followed soon after by Dimitri. She smiled walking rather fast paced towards the entrance and paused only to urge her guest onward. His look of suspicion had never wavered and once more she attempted to ease it at least a little. "What did you expect?" she questioned before moving briskly once more into her abode. "We need to keep a low profile."
The man in the car watched only for a moment before starting the car once more. "Mami, I'll be inside in a moment."
She nodded as he spun away and led the other into the low rent complex, ignoring the peeling paint and dust covered floors that to Dimitri only served to make the place all the more unwelcoming. He remained close behind her, eyes trailing around in an attempt to memorize the entirety of the building. The look, the feel, everything could potentially be important, and observation was the reason he was still alive. His attentive observation was stalled by the woman coming to a stop in front of a door previously used as a barrier in a gunfight it had seemed. The wood was splintered, and evidence of the battle was still evident in the form of visible holes in the oak paneling.
Inside, on the other hand, the apartment was surprisingly clean and comfortable; clothed with new furniture and a large collection of fine wine and import décor. "Sit" The woman's voice commanded as she broke the silence and motioned towards a cushioned seat at the dining room table. "This is home, at least for now." She moved to the cupboard, pulling out a couple glasses and one of the older bottles of wine. "Care for a drink?"
"No thank you" he answered darkly, clearing his somewhat parched throat and realizing just how thirsty he had become in such an uncomfortable setting. But then, he was wary of drinking with strangers. Even so his throat was crying for some kind of relief. "On second thought, I'll just have some tea if you have any."
"Oolong okay?" the woman questioned burying her nose in the door of the fridge and pulling out the bottled tea. It didn't seem suited to the man she thought, but then, neither did white. A smile formed as she let out a quiet chuckle and began to pour the cool brown liquid. Perhaps…tea suited him after all. The silence of the moment was interrupted by the sound of the door flying wide open and the flamboyant drag queen sauntering in rather loudly.
"Mami darling!" His voice filled the otherwise quiet room with a cheerful obnoxiousness that could only be born from someone as eccentric as he. "I'm back!" The sound of his voice was enough to make her jump and nearly drop the beverages at hand. He'd always been a bit childish and it earned a perturbed expression but she let it pass as she continued on with her current task.
"Next time you feel like making a scene try coming in the window." She remarked rather sarcastically before offering the tea to her guest. It was a strange partnership the two of them had, but she didn't seem to mind aside from the occasional sarcastic comeback. "Bartholomew…," she smiled sweetly and headed towards another room, pausing at the door. "Keep our guest company while I get the rest of the information."
A nod of agreement, and he did just that, seating himself in the large cushioned love seat. Dimitri pulled out again another pack of cigarettes and a lighter. This job had easily turned him into a chain smoker but this was bad even for him. At the given rate he'd be through an entire pack before the night was even over, but it was the only thing that could keep his nerves calm. "Mind if I smoke?" not that the answer would have made a difference. He already had the butt of the cigarette pursed in his mouth, lighter ready to ignite his sweet relief.
The cross dresser took note of this and shrugged, relaxing further. He didn't want to pry or ask questions, but his curiosity as to why Mami had chosen this man had escalated to a point far beyond control. His eyebrows rose in curiosity as he opened his mouth to say something…anything, but his mouth was always one to act before his mind and before he could stop it he was getting himself into trouble. "Just wondering…" He paused, but not to think, the question was started and wouldn't stop in its chain reaction. "How did you come about the name Dimitri? For an obviously Japanese man attempting to remain incognito it seems a rather brainless move I should think…are you an idiot?"
And of course he knew the second those words left his lips he'd be regretting it. In moments the assassin's gun was pointed directly at his head, Dimitri's lips curled into a grimacing smile. "You're the one who hired me…" he began, cocking the trigger as he took a step forward to press the cold steel against the bared skin on Bartholomew's forehead, "so you should know better than anyone, I'm not afraid to kill anyone."
It was a truth the brunette was glad wasn't proved as their moment was interrupted by the return of their lovely host. "Boys," she muttered stepping in and smiling politely, "play nice." Mami was obviously attempting to hide mild agitation at the scene presented before her, trying not to furrow her eyebrows. Her partner had always seemed rather inept at conversation, and as always his big mouth had gotten him into trouble. "Bartholomew, I don't know what you said but I'm certain an apology is needed…" Her words ended but silently she urged him on running her fingers against her temple and waiting for the awkward moment to be filled with his pleas for forgiveness…and that was exactly what followed.
"I'm sorry" a weak voice murmured, the man trembling at the barrel now pressed against his brow. He wasn't too good at apologizing and never had been, but considering the situation he truly meant his words, and tried not to show just how terrified he was. "Please….don't…" He had all but lost his footing, his knees weak and rattling back and forth but with his words, the gun slowly pulled from his head.
"There's no sense wasting the energy to kill a wimp like you anyway." The assassin muttered returning the gun to its hiding place after deactivating the trigger, and turning back to Mami. This was a business venture, even if his clients weren't taking him as seriously as he'd have liked. "So tell me about this new job." The cigarette pursed between his lips was taken between his fingers and pulled away as he let out a large puff of smoke into the otherwise clean air. Not knowing what the other two had in mind for him unnerved him especially for such a hefty price, but his ears were open, waiting for an explanation.
Meanwhile the elegant woman held out an envelope, passing it to the assassin with a sweet smile on her face. "Inside, you will find references of your target…" The envelope held the image of a young boy, probably in his early teens, staring out the window of an elaborate cathedral. Peachy Blonde bangs fell over lonely sorrowful eyes, and behind him the silhouette of a pair of wings was just barely visible.
"Who is he?" He couldn't help but glare at the picture with a wild sense of fascination. There was a faint familiarity about the boy that kept him captivated. The tears in those bright blue eyes, somehow they touched his stone heart, and he narrowed his eyes despising such a feeling. That brilliant innocence made the boy all the more despicable. Innocence existed solely to be broken, and never went beyond illusion. There was not a soul that was not polluted with darkness, and nobody deserved to feign anything more. The purity on that face, had to be a façade, and it served merely to piss him off.
"His name is Judah." A soft voice exclaimed through the mass of pink that had fallen astray in front of a pair of golden eyes. "He has no known living relatives. His father disappeared shortly after going on a mass killing spree, and from what we can tell his mother committed suicide when Judah was still very young."
Bartholomew looked at his partner, unable to deny the hate in her eyes. Perhaps it would be best if he continued. "The kid's missing a few screws. I've never met him only seen him, but he spends all his time locked up in an abandoned sanctuary, waiting for his liberator." He turned his eyes back to the picture the assassin held and smiled a little. "We have reason to believe you can convince him that liberator is you.
Dimitri eyes continued digging into the image trying to unveil hidden memories that didn't exist. The familiarity was almost painful, and agonizingly tugged at his mind as if begging to be known. He couldn't help but notice now the fine silhouette of those wings. They were dark, and petite, and well hidden by the foggy glass. The assassin quirked an eyebrow, turning to the others for an explanation. "Any reason he's wearing those?" he asked pointing to the outline.
"We told you he had a few screws loose" the pink haired debutante answered with a half smile. "He believes himself to be an angel and wears those at all times. I suppose losing both your parents in such a tragic way made him seek out some sort of answer. The Savior he's waiting for is God."
"God huh?" Dimitri sucked up another large intake on the Cigarette, before continuing his thought. "I feel sorry for anyone who lives believing in such fairy tales. Those who believe in myths offer their minds up to be controlled by others." He frowned staring at the photo one last time before stuffing it into his pocket. "So the target is a disturbed boy with no family waiting to be saved by a deity that doesn't exist?" If that was the case, why such a high price? Sometimes it was best not to ask though so he simply stared at the other two in silence.
"…" Mami cleared her throat, the cold gaze making her nervous. It was obvious the man's thoughts went much deeper than the question at hand. But if he wasn't asking, she wouldn't pry. "Are you up for this job then? It should be a fairly easy kill given your current history."
He stared at the photo a moment longer, debating on how to extinguish the life from the tired creature. "Give me one month."
"I want one month solid. If you wish for me to take on this job, you must accommodate for my methods. In one month I'll have plenty of time to befriend him, gain his trust, convince him I am the savior you wish me to be, and in the end, steal away that pathetic shell of a life." He thought back to the sadness in those blue eyes, curling his hand into a fist. There was a time he felt that way…that he thought something was punishing him for the way his life had turned out. There was a time when he believed in something, and simply waited to be saved. In the end, that something had never come. He'd needed to save himself the only way he knew how...at the end of a gun. And just like that he'd learned a cruel truth. There was no such thing as salvation from others. "He's just pitiful looking isn't he? If I had the selflessness to feel sorry for him, I'd almost put him out of his misery free of charge. But…I'm not selfless. If you give me one month and that $250,000 for coming to this run down breeding ground for rats, you have a deal." The cigarette fell to the floor and his foot came crashing down upon it, putting out the smoldering embers in an instant. This was his game, his way of working. Just like the cigarette he would grow increasingly intimate, taking his time to know his victim, before putting them out in an instant. But getting to know the blonde angel...did it really end with his game? That face, it held something more...something worth knowing even. Because if he didn't dig deeper that familiarity would haunt him with unanswered questions until he could stand it no longer. He wanted to know more...wanted to know why he felt like he knew this boy.
The assassin was drawn out of his thoughts by the debutante's satisfied voice. "One month, you have a deal…720 hours from this moment; I expect the package to be delivered. Do you understand?"
"But Mami," the cross dresser pleaded, glasses pressed up on his crinkled frustrated nose. "One month might be too long."
"I said one month will be fine." Gold eyes met with brown across the room. What she said was law and he knew it, so silently he agreed as well. "Trust me to deal with Gaiyah Bartholomew dear. Everything will work out fine."
Bartholomew huffed, his cheeks puffing out in a childlike pout as the worried expression changed slowly to one of defeat. "Fine!" He hated to admit when he was whipped but if he didn't things would get uglier still. "You win." Turning to the assassin the cross-dresser bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Here..." In his hands he held a small manila envelope which he urged the other to take. "Go to Osaka airport first thing tomorrow morning and open the envelope there. We'll contact you from there with further instructions. Do you understand?"
Dimitri gave him a scrutinizing curious look before reaching out and taking the suspicious looking parcel. "Understood." he responded. His charcoal eyes examined the closed envelope for a long moment, fingers sliding against it as if inspecting it for explosives, before finally slipping it into his pockets. "Are you finished with me now?"
"For now" Mami answered with a devious smile. "But there is one more thing."
Dimitri's eyebrows rose for a moment watching as the woman turned to pull out a suitcase which she then proceeded to open with care. Inside housed a rather large sum of money. The $250,000 she had promised for that fact, and it served to sate her clients hunger for wealth well enough judging by the look in his eyes. "This is your advance. Take it and leave."
"Yes ma'am." The voice held a dark sort of greed as he spoke, his eyes cold, and empty. Mami was beginning to question if her gut feeling had truly been right. How could this cruel unfeeling man possibly be who she thought he was? But everything inside her, the burning at her stomach, that an uncertain certainty, and the familiarity of him, screamed that it had to be true. Yet there was still that pained doubt causing her certainty to sway. No matter though...if she was wrong the truth would reveal itself soon enough.
"Well then..." the silence was interrupted by Bartholomew's smooth voice. "I'll take you home now." He hopped up from his love seat and wandered towards the door...but not before giving his glasses one last push up his nose. And sure enough the assassin was silent as he followed obediently.
The ride home was much more quiet and discomforting than the one there, as Mami wasn't there to cushion the strained hollowness of what little conversation they had. Sure enough, however they reached Dimitri's suburban home and he eagerly removed himself from the stuffy vehicle. He moved into his house without even acknowledging the other man long enough for a goodbye. He hated him. He didn't know this cross-dresser, but he hated him just the same, and wanted nothing more than to get away quickly. Besides...he still had one more job to do.
The pressing matter disconcerted him, but he had a hidden sort of self confidence that fed his ego enough that he didn't worry too much. There was already more a crowd after his life than he would like...but if he let this one slide that problem would only get bigger still. With a glance to the clock he let out a near relieved sigh. He still had time to pull it off...but only if he hurried. God...he hated to hurry. He questioned for a moment if the new job would be worth it before tossing the suit case he'd brought with him onto his table. Money enough he had...but enemies he had more. Even so, he wouldn't end his job without a game, and this evening would be a rather entertaining one.
Grabbing everything he needed he stood up once more heading out that door. The girl had been expecting him quite some time ago. It would be a shame to make her wait for nothing. So hurriedly he jumped onto his motor bike and rode as quickly as he could manage to his target's abode.
It was quite a long trek to the mansion but he managed and arrived just as the moon was highest in the sky. A single light radiated from the otherwise silent building, casting its lonely glow from a large bay window on the fourth floor. It had been their meeting place for the past month, visits from an angel coming to the child nearly every night. Long distance would have been the easiest way to kill her, a sleeping form visible in the entrance, but where would be the fun in that? Without fun there was no point, and the dark haired man lived for the challenge he could create even in the simplest of assignments. He thought back to when he'd first met her...the things he'd learned. She'd been an abused child, so suicide wouldn't have been out of the question even for someone so young. Therefore he'd made that his goal...to produce a believable scene that implied a self mutilation. This was his style, his cruel method of murder. Occasionally he would be left with no choice to take out his target himself, but he was skilled, and most often his targets had given their lives willingly. This one wouldn't be any different...and it would be better if such a child died...rather than live on miserably.
When he finally parked it was across the street, the engine almost a whisper as he worked to shut it off. He had no desire to awaken any threats to catch him playing cat and mouse. Silently he approached the large building with the greatest of caution. The high security of the building made it a difficult feat to enter, normally, but the child new how to turn off the array of traps and alarms in their meeting room, and trustingly and naively had. He'd ritually gotten in the same way every time and tonight was no different. Lining the stone walls of the eastern part of the house was a growth of strong ivy which he began to scale towards the open window. Held within was an unused nursery. It was quite blatant no child had lived there for quite some time. A white wicker rocking chair sat against a blue and white wall with a strip teddy bear paper neatly placed about halfway up. His target lay in the chair, asleep, with bleached blonde hair falling in front of her peaceful face. For a second he almost pitied her, but he shook it off. Assassins weren't allowed to care about anyone. The reason she was in the room was all too clear, she had been waiting for him to save her. Evening had impressed the weight of sleep upon her and rendered her weak and vulnerable and now she had collapsed from exhaustion of the night. Her skin was a light yellowish brown color, with a faint hint of olive underlying the smooth outer layers. A long night gown failed to hide the black and blue marks that marred her body. The truth was painfully obvious; she never had been given the joys of a happy childhood.
And he'd only seen things get worse. The bruises, the cuts, the sorrow in her eyes, all of it had taken place over the course of the month long game. It was always a month...his conditions stated so. This one he had met caught in a tree near the road at the beginning. She'd been a normal frightened child, clamoring up the tree in hopes of clearing her mind. But getting up a tree was always easier than getting down and she'd rendered herself quite stuck. So the moment a beautiful man in white had come to let her down, the naive child had been too ignorant to question him when he'd said he was an angel sent to protect her. Such was the result of a young girl locked away from human contact for so many years. At the time he'd remembered being dressed as he was now, the white so clean none would ever guess how tainted he truly was...and that alone had been enough to convince her.
Since that day he'd continued to meet her regularly, sharing with her well practiced stories of heaven and the glories of a joyous afterlife with her. Dimitri grinned, wondering how innocent impressionable children could believe in something as fake as heaven and as real as hell. But what they didn't know was the truth. Hell was every day lived on earth. Hell was very real, and there was no escape from it except through death. But what came after that? Nothing? He tried not to think too much on it as he walked over the sleeping figure and lightly shook her awake. "Yuka...its time..."
"Mrhm." A muffled groan was the response that came from slightly parted petite pink lips, sleep still more desirable than consciousness.
"Yuka, its time to wake up." It was hard not to let out his sinister smile. He had to stay believable and his expression grew as gentle as any actor could fake. "Tonight is the night so you need to open your eyes child."
Finally his persistence earned a response. An eyelid opened to reveal a soft sparkling brown and a sweet smile graced the girl's lips. "My angel, you came like you promised. When you weren't here before I thought..."
Dimitri took the child gently into a warm embrace which so conveniently concealed his cold heart and brushed his fingers through her hair. "Of course I came," he whispered soothingly, "you're my lost child. I'll take you away from this awful place just like I promised. You just need to trust me." The child nodded in understanding, folding into his arms and letting out a quiet cry. It was so easy...she was so easy to control. "I'm going to take you home with me to heaven tonight. That way nobody can or will ever hurt you again."
The child nodded again smiling lightly. She had been waiting so long for this day, to finally come home with Dimitri to a place where she was finally safe and happy. "What do I do to get to heaven?" The question was spoken from those ignorant lips. There wasn't a heaven and she was only ending the sad existence she had thus far maintained. Dimitri felt almost as if he were doing her a favor by ending it for her. At least then she didn't live in physical pain every day.
"It's as simple as following me dear. Together we can fly there." He'd planned this so well, and braced himself for the possibility of a dislocated leg. The dark man masked in the comfort of a white shirt ran to the window and jumped, disappearing from sight. Perplexed for only a moment the child would have screamed, but she had come to believe Dimitri truly was her guardian angel, sent by god to free her of a cursed life. She trusted Dim with all her heart. Funny what an atheist had convinced a clueless child of. She followed Dimitri's lead, running to the window, and jumping without a doubt in her mind. Even with his lifetime exposure to death and murder, Dimitri shuddered as he heard the small bones shatter upon impact with the hard ground. He felt the slightest pang of guilt build up within his stomach, but quickly shook it off. He couldn't afford to grow a conscience, especially now.
Now that it was over though, primary objective number two was to leave before he was discovered. Wincing from the pain in his leg he began working at the ropes that curled around his ankle. He'd been ever so careful; fastening it before he'd made his full way up and attaching the other end to strong bars on a lower window. Despite the pain he would be fine, provided he could be as hasty as need be. All but jumping down he rushed back towards his bike in silence, leaving as always no evidence. This was his specialty...suicides. Just as victims in the past, the child had jumped of her own free will, and nothing could deny it. Even if fowl play had been suspected, the father would have been the first under suspicion. All the more reason Dimitri had been paid so well. His methods took time, but in the end it was always near impossible to trace things back to those who hired him.
Morning came quickly, and a man used to staying alert until the sun was already climbing its way up the sky, did all he could to sleep what little he could after the previous night's rendezvous. Half closed eyelids parted despite a rebellious brain ordering otherwise as an alarm clock drew him from the world of dreams. He didn't mind so much, as those disturbed dreams only ever served to disconcert him. Always the same, his dreams seemed to fill his mind with images of another time, world, and place. It was like watching a movie of another's life, filled with people he knew nothing of as if he were merely a silent observer. But as that movie played over and over in his head, sometimes it felt like something more, as if they held some deeper meaning or validity behind all those nameless faces. Shaking his head he tried to rid it of such unwanted clutter. Those dreams couldn't have meant anything. He'd had them as long as he could remember and they'd quit fazing him quite some time before. There was no sense in letting them get to him lest he'd never sleep.
Normally Dimitri was not one to house bad hygiene, but sleep had claimed him before he'd even managed to change his clothes. Now facing the elusiveness of an uncooperative clock, he cursed as he realized he had no time for a shower. Opting for the next best option he threw off what he wore and changed into much more suitable attire...a long black trench coat, a soft black shirt and fitted black pants. White...it really didn't fit. Combing his hair back into a ponytail and tying it there out of his face he rushed out of the house, envelope tucked carefully in his pocket. The airport...he shuddered hoping against all odds the job didn't take him far as he let out a sigh and hurried along.
Contending with daytime traffic was not something his nocturnal self was used to, but somehow he managed to arrive at the assigned airport before ten. The building was very much alive with bustling of people coming and going. It was possibly one of the most diverse areas in all of Japan, filled with people of every race and color. It made the assassin feel sick as his eyes darted across so many people of so many different colors. Foreigners polluted the complex with their cameras and over stuffed suit cases, snapping photos of anything they found interesting...which seemed to be everything. It took much to unnerve the atheist, but here it was like a weakness. Dimitri had a profound phobia of tourists, especially those with cameras. Everywhere he looked fat pale skinned men stood pointing those lenses at him as if he were the most interesting find of all. The last thing he wanted were photos taken of him. He was an assassin, an unreal, non existent, apparition and it was important to stay that way. He forced his way through the crowds of people until he came to rest on a bench where the population seemed to have thinned a little. It was there he finally pulled out that forsaken envelope, peeling away the flap to see what lay inside.
The contents of the said envelope were no less than what he'd expected given the location: a plane ticket, hotel reservations, and a phone number alongside an already active Cell phone. He supposed the next logical thing would be to dial the number so with little reserve he did just that, punching in the numbers one at a time before pulling it to his ear.
"Dimitri," an unrecognizable voice called out to him from the other end. There was something cold and cruel behind it that made the Assassin shift a little before pulling out his first cig of the day, realizing just how much he'd needed it and shoving it rather unceremoniously between his lips. "I expect you have arrived at the airport as planned." He listened a little closer to the sounds in that voice, as if trying to gauge the sort of person who held it. It was incredibly deep and filled with an inset of hidden malice. And while this other man sounded young, there was a tone that gave such a voice an ancient air, as if it belonged to someone much older than he. What had he dragged himself into and who exactly was the owner of this discontenting voice belonging obviously to the man who'd hired him? "Mami tells me you are the only one capable of fulfilling our request, but I for one would be quite amused and rather impressed if you are successful. After all...nobody has ever been successful and I've had my share of clients."
Hearing this hadn't pleased the assassin one bit. He'd never taken to compliments well, but he dealt with insults all the worse and despised being treated as if he were incompetent. Especially by some snobby rude man he'd never met before. "I'm not like everyone else," he snarled with gritted teeth. "Give me a month and you'll have your delivery!" His breaths were heavy, chest heaving as he tried to calm himself fruitlessly. "Just tell me where to go and how you want me to wrap it."
Suddenly there was a quiet chuckle in response on the other end. "My you are the feisty one," he chortled, more amused than Dimitri would have liked. "Take the next plane to New York City; someone will be awaiting your arrival. You'll know him when you see him."
"WHAT!" He cried out. Out of Japan...out of his home country to that melting pot full of...foreigners? Absolutely not...but he'd already agreed...already taken the money. "What about a passport? What about a Visa?" Just like that he felt duped and was ready to jump through the phone and kill this sinister man ordering him around. Even if this were his highest paying job thus far...New York? For a Xenophobe this was definitely not what he wanted to hear.
"Everything has been arranged and taken care of. You need not worry your petty little mind about such things. Look behind the photo of your target..." Dimitri did as he was told, peeling away the back to find just as he'd been told everything he needed to leave his own country, both passport and visa surprisingly well made and entirely convincing."What about Language?" he protested coldly trying to find a way out of this current situation, "I can barely speak English."
But it wasn't enough to convince his client, who seemed rather assured at his decision. "We'll solve that later Dimitri. I will arrange a meeting upon your arrival, be prepared." And without so much as a goodbye the other end cut him short leaving nothing but the silence of an ended call. Dimitri was sitting there with his mouth agape, contemplating the situation he'd gotten himself into. He'd expected perhaps to the other end of Japan...perhaps Korea, but...AMERICA!?! He sighed and dragged himself to customs, confusing the woman at the counter with his small bundle of possessions. It wasn't often someone intended on leaving the country without a much larger collection of worldly possessions.
"Can I help you sir?" One eyebrow rose as she stared perplexed. Cherry red lips tried to smile but it was to no avail. This man made her obviously uncomfortable and she'd be all the happier when he was no longer standing before her. "Where are your bags?"
He had to think fast, after all having been given very little time to prepare for all of this. "I don't have any" he responded rather emotionlessly. He wasn't very equipped to feign mourning, but perhaps it would be his only chance. His cold features formed into one that looked as close to crying as he could muster. "My sister died two days ago so I need to fly to New York sooner than planned. I didn't have time to pack. They'll be delivered to me at a later time." The dark man sounded like he was either lying, or perhaps the most heartless person ever born. In truth he imagined he was both, and as he tried to make way with his story he lacked any kind of remorse in his voice. In fact there wasn't a hint of any kind of emotion in his voice. The woman went through proper procedures, praying her time with him would be a short one, quietly and sweetly asking for his passport and visa. Examining them she finally cleared him and allowed him through. The forged documents had been a success, and a very nervous man found himself on a plane to a country he'd never before even dreamed of visiting.
For the first time as he sat there, idling running his fingers across his paperwork, he dared to glance at the visa and examine it himself. He'd be entering the country on a work visa, under the pretense of taking over as a church organist. Interesting how things played out wasn't it? They really had done their studies in choosing him for the job. He hadn't played in years and the last time he'd stepped foot in a church, he was only ten years old. He sighed in the nostalgia of his lost memories. Father Emil may very well have been the only friend he'd ever allowed himself to get truly close to. It was the only time in his life he ever felt wanted, the only time he'd ever understood what happiness was. And just as quickly it had all been stripped away. Emil had left Japan as suddenly as he'd come, leaving a child he'd claimed to care for once more on his own in a crowded group home. With how things had changed, with how he had changed, he wasn't sure he could have stayed friends with the ex priest much longer anyway. But then...would he have become like this had he stayed with him? He once more attempted to clear his thoughts, taking a deep breath and trying to forget this past that haunted him from time to time. He was heading for a country where none knew him, and where communication would be a difficult hurdle. It wasn't that he was incapable of speaking it...but the grammar was so confusing and more so there were so many sounds his own tongue and lips refused to make. If need be...he'd learn, he'd simply never been motivated enough to try. And hopefully it wouldn't become a necessity now. Perhaps not, as being a church organist didn't require much speaking on his part. But the irony still had him floored. An atheist had been assigned to become no less than a mute church mouse.
The trip to America was a rather pleasant one and included a delicious Japanese dish and more than enough legroom. He'd had plenty opportunity to enjoy the badly directed outdated in flight movie but had opted to sleep instead as his sleep had been cut short anyway. When he awoke he was surprised to find he'd rested for the majority of the trip and was nearing his final destination. The ball of nerves in his stomach decided then to knot and churn as an unexpected nervousness overcame him. He didn't stop to question if it was anything beyond coming into a strange country. That had to be the reason he imagined, fingering the cigarettes in his pocket ready to scream if they weren't set free of the no smoking facilities soon. A voice came over the pa to announce the standard procedure. All electronic devices were to be turned off as they'd be landing soon. Seats had to return to their upright positions and seatbelts need be fastened. What would it be like? Entering a country where the sun rose when normally it would be setting, how would his body respond?
He pulled out the picture one last time, staring down at it and examining that face over and over. That vague familiarity was still there, staring back at him, sending his already antsy nerves into a heated frenzy. "Ridiculous," he groaned running his hands across the innocent face. He knew he'd never met this boy. The things he was feeling were ridiculous and would hold no bearing in distracting him from his duties. And just like that he vowed and convinced himself it was all the more reason to complete his duties successfully. These feelings were dangerous and he had to overcome them.
After nearly thirteen hours, the plane came to a halt in a New York airport. Thousands of people crowded the hallways, and despite the innumerable people running around it was somewhat of a relief to see he was not the only one from his country stepping off the plane and into this unknown world. Asians, Europeans, Africans, people from all over the world flooded the airport and poisoned it with the smell of tourism and hope...that disgusting naive hope. Dimitri had never realized before what a melting pot had been until that moment standing in front of what felt near like another dimension to someone who rarely faced anyone of another race. The surprise was doubled by an even greater one as a man with extremely pale glassy skin and long silken midnight hair approached him. Immediately his defenses went up, readying himself for anything the other might throw at him. The stranger was beautiful, more than any other person the atheist had laid eyes on. It was enough to make him question the gender for a moment...but looking at him there was no escaping the fact that this beautiful man was indeed...a man. Soft ivory skin and gentle almost unbelievably pale blue eyes contrasted with the dark strands that fell perfectly down his gently sculpted frame. Really, he reminded himself...it was a man...he had no business staring.
"Are you Dimitri" the stranger asked coolly the bass in his deep voice penetrating Dimitri's stomach with a reverberating rumble. The voice for such a delicate looking man was surprisingly deep and threatening. Appearances weren't everything and this fragile creature had just proved that. This man was obviously anything but Japanese, and though he spoke very clearly, his words were laced with a strange accent that couldn't quite be placed. "I was instructed to retrieve you here and escort you to our place of residence."
Our residence the other had said and that alone drove the Atheist over the edge. "Our what!?" He would have been angered had he not been practicing the whole way to not allow himself to be angered by trivial things. This did present a problem or two. It meant his clients didn't trust him after all and planned on keeping an eye on him. "Interesting," he paused, smiling weakly. "They want to keep an eye on me. How quaint but I suppose it makes sense." His thoughts rambled out loudly and were followed by a heavy sigh. He was defeated, and he didn't like it. "Very well, lead the way."
The man said nothing in response but merely guided him to the subway which consequently wasn't all that different from Japan's. It was crowded, noisy, and full of unfriendly faces contorted with the many problems of their own lives. The only real difference was probably the number of foreigners...correction...he was the foreigner now, and these people, faces of many different colors, were the residents of this state...this country. Where once everyone had been one single color, similar bone structure, similar noses, features, instead was variety. He shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps this was what Alice had felt when she'd stepped into the rabbit's hole. Everything was so different, strange, and almost frightening. But he couldn't allow himself to be scared of anything and once more he quickly regained his composure.
Finally he was instructed to step from the crowded train and follow the strange man to a rather large hotel. This would be the first time he'd be living somewhere that wasn't trashy and low profiled. Instead of brown peeling paint and gray hallways, within were only vibrant colors and high ceilings. Soft cushioned carpets covered the floors and crystal chandeliers hung high above him. He followed the stranger until they reached a room he assumed was theirs. He stared at the door half wondering if he would grow to like staying in such a nice place. That was until the keycard was swiped and the door opened before him. At that point he could only think of one thing examining the room with a racing heart.
"Why is there only one bed!?" Oh no, absolutely not. He could handle being watched but not that closely. Maybe they hadn't done their research well enough after all. Dimitri could hardly stand to have company, let alone be touched by anyone. There had been times someone had tapped his shoulder to ask for simple directions and he'd thrown them hard on the ground without a second thought. Those touches tainted him, aid in turn he tainted them. A threat of connection formed when he was touched by others and nothing was worse for an assassin than growing attached...especially to this strange specimen. His horror was only increased by what the other said next.
"It's the only way to make us believable" he answered softly. "As long as you are in America...you are to be my lover." Dimitri swallowed hard in all out fury ready to storm out that door. Money was money but he was not a whore and he did not sleep with strange men for money. Yet this man he'd never met before was telling him something like that? This was not part of his agreement, not part of his assignment. Befriend a boy and kill him, that's what they were paying him for...not... He shook his head. He should have known a cross-dresser wasn't someone he should have trusted, and the too good to be true price should have been equal an indicator at the shadiness of his given duties.
The man seemed to be reading his emotions as he cleared his throat and finally shut the door. "Don't worry. I won't force myself upon you." As if that would make him feel much better. In fact Dimitri found himself cursing the nonexistent god over and over in his head for what was happening to him. "My orders are merely to keep a close eye on you and serve as a translator where needed. Sleeping in the same bed does not mean we will be sleeping together sir, only that we will be sharing a bed." He motioned over to it and noted the large size of the clean white mattress. "Its large enough it can easily accommodate both of us comfortably."
It certainly wasn't enough to make Dimitri feel better. Especially since the other had said already, "But you just said..." Nerves and regret he didn't even know he had created a heavy negativity in the air. Dimitri had not been ready for this... "GOD I need a cigarette!" As always he fidgeted around until he could find his comfort once again. Flicking open his lighter he hovered his cig over the flame until a glowing crimson appeared at the end. The flavor that had once been so unpleasant had become his save haven and he inhaled in sweet ecstasy of the smoke that that polluted his lungs.
"We will merely appear to be lovers," the beautiful man answered attempting to make things once more clear. "Tomorrow we will acquire a new more upscale wardrobe for you and from there I will take you to the place in which your target dwells.
Foreigners, they always seemed to speak so much more formally than was really needed. But even so this seemed a little over the top. "Seriously, what kind of crap are you on?" Anger was hidden well enough his voice sounding cold and emotionless, but if one listened it was possible to sense his irritation. His word choice had betrayed him as always. "Speak like a human or nobody will buy that you have friends you robot." Dimitri reached in his pocket and pulled out his abused pack of cigarettes stuffing a second one in his mouth already having finished the first one. This was a rough situation and he needed all the comfort he could get. "This is the last time I take a job from a couple of overdressed freaks that sends me halfway across the world," he grumbled sucking deeply on his current cancer stick. He nearly gagged, as even that wasn't enough for what came next.
The man before him sat down on the bed and began removing his clothes as if it were the most natural thing in the world, squirming under the covers and nestling in comfortably. "What the HELL do you think you are doing you fucking homo?" This was too much, and having had enough Dimitri stomped out his second cigarette in sheer fury, already lighting a third. First lovers and now the man was naked in a bed they were supposed to share. Whoever this was they were neither normal...nor safe. Hell Dimitri was positively expecting to be raped in his sleep.
"We are lovers Dimitri." He repeated again as if these current actions meant nothing. Was he really human?
"The hell we are!" He answered kicking the other hard out of the bed. "But some fucking clothes back on you homo!" The seemingly emotionless man obeyed unfazed by Dimitri's actions...just like the robot the Atheist was beginning to suspect he was. He slipped back into his lace up blue vest and black vinyl pants as if nothing had happened. And while his blank expression seemed ever unchanging for the first time Dimitri noticed a hidden sadness visible on that empty face. Behind those clouded pale eyes was an unreadable unknown pain he could almost recognize himself. Dimitri averted his gaze trying to rid his mind of such pointless facts. Of course he didn't care that this man was hurting. He didn't care about anyone. He tried to convince himself like always that nobody meant anything to him. That was what he tried to convince himself like always, because his unfeeling coldness had been trained, learned, and even now he had to struggle with the defiance of his heart. Casting down the final cig he ran his fingers to his temples. This country would surely turn him into a chain smoker. Once more Dimitri swallowed hard and stared at the man examining him all the more even though he'd told himself not to. There was something missing from that delicate figure. It wasn't something he could place but somehow the man seemed near intangible, not quite real and untouchable...inhuman. Dimitri knew such things were silly apparitions of a tired mind...petty impossibilities. There was no such thing as god, ghost, monsters, or any of that supernatural bullshit. The only reality was what he had seen; nothing beyond the humans and creatures that now roamed the earth. This man was human, just like Dimitri. He opened his mouth to say something only to realize he'd never asked the stranger's name.
"Exactly," Dimitri paused wondering if he should ask the question for a moment as if stepping on forbidden territory. He reassured himself that such a question was needed should he be playing this man's lover. That thought still made him shudder as he wondered how far he would need to go to convince others of the charade. "Who are you?"
The stranger looked puzzled for a moment, as if carefully interpreting the question in his mind. "When you ask that question," he finally vocalized, "do you intend to ask my name or are you referring to the past that shaped the being I have become?" And again the robotic methods of this man's thought process had the assassin doing all he could to keep from losing his temper.
"Who are you generally refers to your name." he answered, glaring at the sorrow filled man before him. Part of him was curious about this man's past, and he was sure the other would be all too willing to share it, but it was better not to know. Better to not know the people close to him and to keep himself detached as possible. Because a day might come when he'd be hired to kill even this man, and if that were the case he couldn't afford to care about him.
"Very well," he answered in his glossed over voice. "The name given me is Vaino" His expression remained indifferent but the way he said his name made it obvious he held a strange personal attachment to it, as if he really might not have blurted it out to just anyone. Strange...this Vaino was indeed strange.
"See that wasn't so hard," Dimitri smirked, finally forcing himself to shove his cigarettes again into his pocket. This robot was one of the nerve-wrecking types "Do you have to talk like a robot all the time though? You barely sound fucking human with speech patterns like yours."
The other man paused, unsure how to answer as he lowered his head. It wasn't as if Vaino knew how to control the way he spoke...it was how it was. "I'm sorry sir, I'm only here to serve you and if you wish for me to change my speech pattern I will do my best to fulfill your desire" even if he didn't know how, which was obvious in his robotic response. Dimitri's eyebrows furrowed in defeat.
"Shit what is this? I'm your master now? Lovers, masters, robots...what the hell have I gotten myself into?" No longer composed in the slightest his irritation had exposed itself fully on his unmarred face. This man was far more work than he was worth for obvious reasons and he didn't think there would be any way for him to feel anything but annoyance towards him. "I take it you're the bitch of this relationship then, lover?"
"If you wish it," Dimitri grinned slightly at the image of this irritating man in a submissive position clad in the embarrassing overused pink apron. The man may have been beautiful but he was most definitely no woman no matter how fragile he appeared to be. Amusing as such an image was, it only made Dimitri curse himself for thinking anything like that about another man. So he pushed it quickly out of his thoughts only to realize how tired the flight really had made him. Sleep on a plane was never anything in comparison to the real thing in a real bed, and his body was screaming for it now. Enough so he thought he could actually fall asleep next to this Vaino person.
"Just shut up and go to sleep," he finally commanded eyelids drooping. The dark haired atheist crawled tiredly under the covers next to the warm form next to him not wanting to admit there was a slight comfort in the touch of that warmth as he felt himself begin to drift off to that ever so familiar universe of forgotten worlds in which he didn't exist or belong, and a voice always called out to him. The world of his dreams shouldn't have existed, especially in the mind of someone like him. Heaven dipped down into the bowels of hell. It was a place where order had once ruled, but now only chaos remained. Such was the world of his sleep, one he'd run from since the day he'd been abandoned by a blind ex priest, a world he could never fully escape no matter how much he tried to...because deny it as he may...he was tied to it by chains that could not be broken.