Of the Night
Disclaimer: This is just a fictional story and please be clear that I have no intention whatsoever to glamorize the unlawful actions in this story :) thanks.
The rays of the setting sun seeped through the curtains of voile that draped the floor to ceiling window and tinted the white marble floor with a faint shade of ochre. Cool breeze blew and the curtains gracefully fluttered in the air and for a while, there was only impenetrable silence. Before long, darkness fell.
The clock ticked and the sound echoed within the walls of the spacious room with only a chandelier with uncountable crystals and a humble table of ebony to occupy it. The swivel chair behind the table swung and there sat a man of old age dressed in a crisp tuxedo with a rose in the chest pocket. From his chapped lips ran a crooked smile before he rose and the door opposite his table burst open.
"I've been expecting you. Noctis." He said dryly, unshaken as he stared at the uninvited ash brown haired visitor.
"I know." A deep, unfeeling voice said. In the shadows cast by the fabrics blown by the wind emerged a man in sleek black tailcoat with a mask reminiscent of the Phantom of the opera's. Behind Noctis' mask were blue eyes that glistened under the moonlight as he drew a sword from the platinum sheath that hung on his side.
He gracefully made his way across the room, to the old man who was grinning silently at himself. The aged man's porcelain white teeth were in great contrast against the darkness surrounding the two of them. The sight could easily send chills down anyone's spine. The young man however faced him with composure as he pointed the sword at the older man's throat.
"It would be easier for you to surrender to your fate." He said impassively.
"I would've long been dead if I was the type who would easily surrender to his fate." The man with graying hair retorted with jest.
"Very well then. Let me encourage you to be that type of person now."
Noctis pushed his sword towards the old man but he successfully dodged it. For someone his age, his speed was remarkable. He could almost keep up with Noctis' hasty movements.
"I guess you're not famous for nothing." The old man casually said while still dodging the young man's blows.
"I am still wondering why they sent me to finish off someone insignificant as you." Noctis replied.
"I like your humor son but calling a gentleman like me insignificant is going a little too far."
In a blink of an eye, the tables were turned as the old man pushed the masked visitor to the ground and held a gun at his forehead. Noctis' sword fell on the floor and in his current situation, it was impossible to reach for it.
"There's no one to help you now so let me cheat death a little longer." The aged man whispered to Noctis' ears with his finger ready to pull the trigger.
The young man showed no fear as he sneered. "You're forgetting something... I never said I came alone."
The old man's eyes widened and fear was etched at his wrinkled face. Swiftly, in a desperate attempt to salvage himself, he turned around but before he could even see the face of the accomplice, a gunshot was heard followed by the sound of the waves splashing against the coast outside the mansion.
"The marble floor was flawless. Too bad it had to be smeared with this filth." A dark haired man who donned a bejeweled mask muttered with an even deeper voice than the voice of the young man called Noctis.
He looked down in disappointment on the lifeless body of the old man in the pool of deep rosy red color that stained the white marble floor. With it was the scent of fresh blood that made him crinkle his nose before he turned at the ash brown haired young man.
"Good job. They should be satisfied with this extermination." He said, patting Noctis at the back.
"He could've died like a gentleman like what he claimed himself to be." Noctis muttered as he examined the dead body.
"Look at the time. It's this late already." The dark haired man wiped the blood stains on his suit before he continued, "You can't roam around this late young man. In case you're forgetting, you've got school tomorrow, Noah."
The young man sighed and pulled off his mask revealing a face to die for. He picked up his sword on the floor and slid it back in the sheath as he said, "I know that dad."
In the morning that followed, the murder of business magnate and speculated underworld drug lord Alastor Schimtz in his Cape Canaveral Mansion filled the news on television and newspapers. For them it meant that the world was cleaner in one way or another. Of course, there were a lot more dirt to clean up.
Whoa...I have a new story! I'm rewriting It Hurts That I Love You at the moment so I'm focused on He was Cool. Being the type that goes insane once she focuses on something, I just had to distract myself with something :3 So let me distract my self with this :) I hope you'll like it.
Reviews are always appreciated :) Romance comes later :D