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Assassin - creative writing.

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Assassin A drop of blood rolled down his hand; that bright colour red did not manage to bring about any emotions. He cast a thought back to his childhood when he fell over and grazed his knee, the sight of blood made him wild. He was weak. Now he was as cold as a stone and after taking so many lives, after seeing waterfalls of red gushing out of his victims. The assassin was standing on a building crouching so that he would not be seen. He was a shadow of the night. The rain poured heavily drenching everything. The temperature was dangerously low but he did not even shiver. The raindrops smashed against his scarred face, which was covered only revealing those dark, mysterious eyes. He knew that he would have to stay still, motionless for hours before he might be able to move. His strong point was not being able to move swiftly and elegantly and not even to kill, but to sit like a predator waiting to attack. ...read more.


He was as cold and as void of emotion as dead body. He was death. Once he was on top of the building it was time to wait again. It was strange that death himself was in a place of such beauty. The storm had calmed down now and there was light rain with a gentle breeze. The shining of the moonlight illuminated everything. The small village was deserted; everything was silent. There was a garden nearby which was enchanting. There were many exotic flowers all creating a bright and colourful effect. He could see through some windows how a family was sat on the floor in a circle drinking tea. They were wearing white robes, which gleamed, under the candlelit floor. White, it was such a pure colour. He was dressed all in black, an invisible being. "Rickimaryu, pass me the tea," his master said, "what do you think?" ...read more.


"Time to die old men" said a deep, chilling voice. The greedy minister was shocked. "Why do you want to kill us? We are not guilty of any crimes!" "I am here to stop the many crimes that you are planning to commit!" As soon as he drew his sword it was all over. Many dead bodies lay on the floor. This bloody sight could not be justice; whether it was for a good cause or not it was still murder. The Assassin fell to his knees and began to cry. He had not felt emotion for years and now could not control himself. Tears flowed down his cheek and he made whimpering noises. A guard came from behind and stabbed the assassin. As he felt his miserable life slip away he thought of all the people he had killed. He imagined what life would have been like if so many unfortunate things had not occurred. From where he lay, he could see the night sky. He closed his eyes and sighed; he was so tired. 07947630342 Asim Iqbal ...read more.

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