A Viper's Poison


Chapter One: Lord Brian Thriarfield

A tall Victorian house stood erect in the soft rays of moonlight, which wrapped its body like a blanket of silvery light. Guards clock worked the house, patrolling with guns resting lazily inside their leather cages as the guards joked and walked around, not expecting anything to happen for nothing ever does. Today however, all that would change. She was like midnight herself, a shadow stealthily streaking through the black night as she sprinted across the back lawn, her feet brushing the soft grass with the slightest of whispers. Keeping an eye out for the guards, she grasped the sides of the ivy covered wall and began her ascent to the top, black leather gloved hand reaching over hand as she hauled her way to the top with physique and practice.

Loud chatter alerted her attention to a round of guards and she quickly pressed her body against the house, her body melting into the shadows as if a phantom of smoke. When they had past, she continued her pursuit and climbed swiftly to the top. She swung her legs over the manor wall onto the roof and landed with a soft thud. The moon silhouetted her figure as she crouched in silence, the pale light painting a soft glow on her black leather suit, which pressed to her every curve, enabling her flexibility and speed. Aqua eyes peered from thin slits of a facemask as she assessed the roof, looking for the right skylight window. A few strands of silky platinum hair had escaped from their bondage and caressed her face as she crept forward, her hands grazing the ground as she crouched low and moved forward with gracefully speed.

She placed a finger on one of the windows and peered inside. Below her was a bedroom; in the corner of her eye she noticed a large feather bed with a handsome young man sleeping in it. She slipped off the black bag strapped to her back and settled it on the floor, pulling out a small device and placing it against the glass. Once she had secured the silver device, she flipped the switch on the side and waited as the device emitted a high-pitched sound wave, cracking the glass on the window. Gingerly, she grasped the sides of the window and peeled back the shattered glass, careful to be silent and not drop anything through the window.

Tossing the glass to the side, she pulled out a long cord. Securing the rope tightly to the window, she dropped the other end into the room. She climbed up on the ledge and grabbed the rope tightly in her hands before slipping through the window, gently easing herself down the rope in order not to wake the slumbering man. She dangled just above the wooden floorboards, her body hovering in the still air as the man nearby slept, unaware of the danger. With practiced ease, she lowered herself until the tips of her toes brushed against the floor and she continued until she was firmly on the floor.

Leaving the rope in position, she moved out of the main bedroom into the office connected to it and crept over to the mahogany wood desk. Papers littered the top, not stacked and roaming free across the smooth wooden surface. She bent down and pulled out a lock pick, inserting it into the desk drawer's lock and within moments, a soft click was heard as the lock's catch was released. Quietly, she slid open the drawer and began rifling through the manila folders, searching, prodding to find the answer to her questions.

With a grunt of irritation she moved to the next drawer and unlocked it before filtering through the papers. Again she did not find what she had come for and her frustration was mounting. In swift, liquid movements, she crossed the floor over to the bed coming to rest next to the sleeping man. His sandy blond was jostled from sleep and a few strands brushed against his forehead as he slept, his eyes closed tightly, framed with long brown lashes.

She reached into her boot and pulled out a long silver knife, the metal gleaming in the moonlight beaming through the windows. Fluidly, she reached her hand out and grabbed the man's hair, hoisting up his head and placed the sharp blade at the tender flesh at his throat. Startled, the man struggled against her grip, but immediately stopped with his neck brushed against the edge of the blade, slitting the skin and eliciting a crimson line of blood.

She gently eased her grip on his, forcing him to move into a sitting position, the silky royal blue sheets sliding off his body to reveal a bare muscular torso and drawstring pants. He whimpered slightly, but complied at her push and forced himself to sit, careful to not let the metal touch him again.

"Where is it," she hissed, her smooth voice filtering in his ear.

"What are you talking about?" he asked bewildered.

"Do not play games with me Lord Thriarfield, I'm not in a pleasant mood," she whispered, her lips brushing his lobe.

"Brian," he corrected her as he swallowed the lump of fear growing in his throat.

"Tell me where it is, Brian, and I might consider letting you live," she said, pressing the knife harder against his skin.

"Tell me what you are referring to so I may help you," Brian responded.

"Where is the information on Alexander Gracin?" she asked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Brian said truthfully

"Your father has a dirty secret, Brian Thriarfield, one I'm bent on showing to the whole world."

"What secret?" he asked.

"Why, don't you know what a cunning and evil man your father is?" she asked, winding her finger around one of his sandy curls.

"My father is not evil," Brian replied firmly.

"Your father killed Alexander Gracin," she accused, pulling sharply on his hair wrapped around her finger.

"Dr. Gracin was murdered by a group of people who protested his use of the environment and the energy," Brian protested wincing in pain.

"Wrong and you know it. Don't even try to persuade me otherwise, I know all about you Brian, I know where you've been and I know what you've done. Remember China?" she asked in a silky voice, chuckling as Brian froze completely, catching his breath.

"How do you know about that?" he asked sharply.

"I know all about you, Brian, and your family's illegal activities and someday, I'm going to find out who you work for and kill them too, just like they killed Alexander Gracin," she said vehemently.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.


"Revenge for what, what did they do to you?" he asked confused.

"Alexander Gracin is my father," she stated. Brian's blue eyes went wide at her declaration.

"Impossible, the daughter was killed on the streets, she is not alive," he argued.

"Think again," the woman growled, pushing the blade deeper into his neck, thickening the stream of blood running along his pale flesh.

"I do not have any papers to give you," Brian said truthfully. The woman glanced down at him and saw the truth in his eyes.

"Then I have no use for you," she declared.

"No, you can't kill me," he protested.

"Watch me," she grinned.

"Who are you?" he questioned, trying to stall for time.

"I am the Viper," she whispered in a soft low voice before sliding the knife across his neck, severing his vocal chords and ripping into his throat. Brian gurgled as blood poured from his broken skin, the crimson liquid blossoming over his naked flesh, the river of life fleeing from him.

The woman laid the dead body back against the soft bed, drawing up the covers to hide the bloodstain underneath. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked back over to the rope, grasping it firmly before climbing it, pulling her self up towards the ceiling. She reached out a hand and grabbed the skylight frame, propelling herself out of the bedroom and back onto the roof. Climbing back down the ivy, she dropped to the lawn softly and scanned the area for the night guards. When her vision was clear she sprinted through the lawn and melted into the night.