The Eyes of the Shadow

Standing before the bed, in the darkened room, the hooded figure studied his target.

Sleeping, the young male was, eyes shut and lashes settled against one another, glasses askew upon his face.

The nose pieces had to have been pinching the bridge of the man's nose, a writing journal left open on his chest and pen held in a lax hand.

The hooded male removed the journal first, marking the page the user had started and pulled the pen free from where it rested against warm flesh. Then came the glasses, the simple silver frames beautiful against the writer's eyes and hair.

It wasn't fair he had to murder the man, but it was his duty. His job, as much as he loathed his lifestyle.

But you could never leave once you were in, committing yourself to a long life of murder and loneliness...

"If yer gonna do it, do it. Ya didn' have ta be kind 'nough ta move mah stuff..."

Caught. The hooded figure dove to the window but couldn't move, falling back into the bed instead, his once victim holding his wrist where the hidden blade sat.

"'m a Templar, yeah. Working for control 'n shit of the human race, I know. Kill me, instill fear in the others, chop the head off the hydra and two more take its place, Assassin."

The assassin said nothing, silent at his enemy's speech.He was right, however... The hydra always grew more heads for any removed.

"'m... What he wants is total shit, honestly." Those piercing eyes rose to meet those of his would be killer.

The 'he' referred to must have been the Grandmaster...

But the gasp that left his mouth was soft, floating on a gust of wind from the still open window to be heard by the Templar. The vivid blue was gorgeous...

"Take the journal, show it to whom ever. Kill me, but keep fighting." Within the ivory colored pages were words and plans, lists and diagrams, all showing his betrayal to the Templars he had joined.

The assassin couldn't. Not when this man hated his order as much as their rivals did.

Not when he wanted to leave, to fly free of his cage and live.

The assassin never felt his hand lift, never heard his hidden blade slide open, but saw the cold steel poised above warm flesh, above the carotid artery.

"Well?"

He spoke, pulling his hand free from that neck, away from the area where the Templar would surly bleed out quickly if cut correctly.

"The let me cut your chains, poor bird. Allow me to free you from them..."

There was a crazed laugh from the Templar, those bright blue optics closed against the moon light and blocking the assassin from view.

"I am a bird, caged and trapped. Forever locked behind these bars, singing a song that never changes... If you're willing to break this bird's bond, willing to free him, I will join you. Give you anything you want, but not betray you to my Master. I swear upon my honor and life."

The supposed cat smiled beneath his hood, a small grin unseen by the handsome male before him.

"I trust you." The blade slipped closed, click soft and muffled by the sleeve of the hooded sweat shirt the assassin wore. "But my brothers and sisters will not, you know. You would do well to be wary among us, Bluebird."

The code name for his victim within his mission orders.

"Bluebird, huh...?" He whispered, knowing that it was true.

The assassin bobbed his head once, but rose and quickly went to work, grabbing a duffel bag from under the bed, packing it for his rescued 'pet.'

"Oh sure, go through my personal shit 'n whatnot. Not like I can't pack myself."

A throwing knife found a home next to his skull in the wood of the beds grand and ugly headboard. A thin cut ran with a dribble of blood on the 'bird's' cheek, a toothy grin forming quickly.

The assassin was fiery, for sure. He enjoyed that kind of behavior from someone.

"You'll pack to much heavy clothing. We must travel light and quickly for your escape." The assassin hissed, throwing a handful of wife beaters into the bag alongside basketball shorts and long flannel sleeping pants, journal going right on top of it all.

The Templar rose from the bed and zipped the bag himself, slinging the straps over his shoulders like it was a book bag, handles spaced apart enough for him to do such without discomfort.

"You sure you still wanna free this bird, Kitty? What if I peck your eyes out as you sleep?"

The assassin drew himself close to the warm heat of the man he had been ready to maim, lips curved up again.

"You won't. This 'kitty,' -as you so called me- has some claws hidden away. I'll devour you before you can even draw a knife, Bluebird."

Then came the once victim's request, foolish as it was.

"Let me see your face."

Later, the assassin would question why he honored the man's request, knowing he was stupid for doing so.

Knowing he was foolish for such an action, but he also knew it would be worth it to earn the other's trust.

The assassin didn't stop his movements to the window, lowering the hood along the way as he got up to the waiting zip line.

"Remember, you asked." And with that, the assassin smirked over his shoulder, a young man's face meeting blue eyes, brown ones glinting with a dangerous but playful promise.

"That fuckin' natural color or what?" The other commented on the bright, orange hair revealed to him.

"Could say the same about yours, but I've watched you prance about naked, so I know your pubic hair's blue."

"Creep."

A shrug. "Part of my job, dumbass. Surely, you've done this with the Animi program?"

"Yeah, stupid shit that was. Always killed my targets once I got close enough and cause trouble."

"Oh-ho... Bluebird's not much for the work, then?"

Threading his fingers into those orange locks, he tilted the head of his would-be killer back, leaning in close to the assassin's face.

"So says the Tabby, with his coat of orange, so thick and soft."

He liked the pain spiking through his spine, sending pleasure running to places he shouldn't be thinking of, the nickname of 'Tabby' arousing him further.

Whispering, though, he leaned in as close he could to the Templar. "You and I will be just fine together, Russian Blue... Had best get a move on before the wake up crew arrives for the bird instead."

A change in code name for his new brother. He was free now, eyes bright and the hand falling limp from orange strands, but instead running through sleep tangled blue.

"If you say so, Tabby cat. Thank you for giving me this chance..."

"Don't thank me yet." The assassin uttered, offering his new-found information whore a hook-blade.

As traditional as it was, it would work in a pinch for the zip-line since the assassin had the only set of handles.

"Know how to use it?" He challenged, smirking now as he got ready to launch himself off the tenth floor balcony to the roof of the building three floors below them.

With a smirk of his own, the once-Templar quoted an elder and very much deceased Assassin member. "'The standard Ottoman hook-blade has two parts, you see: the hook and the blade.'"

The assassin chuckled at that, smile small. "Yusuf Tazim was a smartass, you know. Poor Ezio must have had such patience with him! Probably wanted to murder him for some of the things he was taught!"

"But look where it got him. He lived a happy life, had a couple kids, passed on part of his knowledge to that Chinese assassin girl; even wrote a book, I believe. He was a good fellow."

"May his spirit rest in peace..." The orange-haired assassin murmured, going down first as his friend followed on the hook-blade.

It was time for them to make their was to the assassin base and protect the blue haired man, who grinned like a shark, but laughed like a crazed man...