Chapter One

I extract my knife out of the man's abdomen. The room is dark, random objects are scattered on the floor. A chair was thrown out the window and there is glass all over the place now. Hot liquid stains my shaking hands. His blood smells of steel.

This is my first kill.

I'm waiting patiently for the feeling the others often described after their initiation. The intense shivering, the satisfaction; the exhilarating knowledge of bestial superiority. I can see myself in a mirror behind the dying man. No flushed cheeks or enlightened looks. Nothing. My pale features only reflect impassibility. I try to shrug off this frightening emptiness.

The body falls at my feet. The breathless moans of pain cease. Silence creeps in, suffocating darkness surrounds me. I watch my hands tremble. I will them to stop. They obey. I go to the sink in the small bathroom and wash my hands. No need to worry, no one's aware of the shopkeeper's tragic -accident- yet. A bit of blood had fallen on my shoes. I wipe it off my beautiful brand new red Converses. My equally crimson eyes look to the broken window.

Seconds later, I'm out of there. Jumping from roof to roof like a giant bat. It must be an eerie sight, a dark figure with red shoes that seems to fly. But no one looks; after all, it's the middle of the night. Everyone is busy sleeping their lives away. Achieving in their dreams what they won't even consider while awake. We, at the house, never sleep. For us, dreamers are weak. We are better than the villagers. That is what we were taught and what we are to believe for the rest of our lives.

I finally reach the house, our house. Kirei is there waiting for me. She's standing in the middle of the garden. Her pale still figure vaguely reminds me of statues of Greek the goddesses. Wide unseeing eyes turn to me. Her unnerving purple gaze falls on me. She is stiff and nervous.

I stand silently a mere six feet away. There are discarded pieces of what would be recognised as Greek statues on the tall untamed grass. Some are covered with moss. A marble pillar stands in the middle of it all, next to Kirei. There, many flowers grow. They are mostly blue or purple and they only bloom in the night for us to see. She takes care of them, since she cannot work as we do. I can't bring myself to imagine her holding a weapon or even hurting someone. She is not loved here though; the others call her the statue. It is true that she does not say much and that she is pale, but then again, we all are.

"Was it hard?"

"No," I answer.

She looks at me. Her big purple eyes shine, but she cannot see me. Her lips tremble slightly.

"Are you ashamed of what you did?"


"Are you…proud?"

"I have completed my training."

I think that's what she wanted to hear. Compared to all of us, she's an angel. The voice of reason and justice. The Great Father always turns to her to pick the deserving victims. We call them the "right ones". Father also accepts contract-kills, but Kirei always disapproves.

She takes my hand. I look up. She is smiling. To say that her smiles are rare would be an understatement. She leads me up the marble stairs and into the Father's office.

He's a serious but kind man. His hair is brown and he has a bushy beard. He is not pale at all; unlike the rest of us, he actually looks alive. The Father always sits in his massive oak chair. A dozen children surround him. They are not playing or being loud, as normal infants would. They just sit there looking at the forty-five-year-old man. They are all attracted by his strange aura of calmness. I used to be one of these children; we all used to. That is mainly why we call him The Father.

He acknowledges my presence by muttering my name

"I have completed my task."

All eyes are on me. The juvenile jury; I've heard of it and have been part of it, but it is still very new, not to mention very creepy to be the one that is being studied, analysed, and even worse, judged.

He lifts his hand. They all turn to him and I find myself sighing in relief.

"Gabriel. Come here."

I move towards him. I know that I am now an active member of our business. I am neither relieved nor surprised by that knowledge. I feel numb. It's strange; the Father is always dressed as if he were starring in some Shakespearian play. When we were younger, Damien and I used to joke about it and say that he was a vampire. But he is not, we checked.

The Father observes me, frowning as if surprised that I'm still there. I must have made a funny face because he suddenly smiles.

"I'm so proud of you!"

Next thing I know, he is hugging me.

"UNWANTED PHYSICAL CONTACT," my inner self exclaims.

This is certainly not the kind of special treatment I would have expected, OR WANTED, from this old man. I should hit myself for saying old. He lets me go after precisely one minute and thirty-three seconds. Kirei is laughing silently. It is at times like this that I wonder if she really is blind.

"Out! By the way Kirei, your hair is too long."

I walk out of the room as swiftly as I can without running. I catch a very indignant look on the longhaired girl's face. Her hair is fine the way it is. We are all obliged to dye it black; it is one of our many rules here. Because of that, every hint of color is important and noticed. She has an original tint of blue; it is so subtle that it looks natural. As for myself, I have a single red streak near my right ear. It absolutely matches with my perfect shoes. Some say I have a disturbing obsession with my Converses, but I give those comments no regards.


Yô! First chapter of a story I may continue………..depending on feed back of course! I have written the second chapter already and will post it in a week…….

Reviews are appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcomed! Merry holidays!