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Assassin for Hire: Don't Steal From an Assassin

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Never. Ever. Take my things without my permission. No…scratch that. Don’t even ask for my permission! I could understand if it was something small like a t-shirt, or a CD. Heh, who collects CDs anymore, but that’s not the point.

My swords…one of my katana is missing, and I am not happy! Swords don’t just get up and walk out the door, and they’re not entirely the easiest thing to misplace in the world. Worst of all, it feels like it was taken from my house, while I was here. Why didn’t I notice anything? I thought I was supposed to be good at this.

Nothing in my apartment is different; it’s all right where I left it. And I’m sure that if I dusted for fingerprints, there would only be my own, and that really drives me about insane. Nobody in this perfect at what they do…and why my swords? Why would somebody even assume I have them…I mean, I try my best not to let people know what I do, is there something wrong with me?

Had I left behind some trace that might let somebody track me down? And why only one sword…it wasn’t like I even needed both to make a kill, but they helped if I was facing more than one person.

“Loki what am I going to do!” I yelled, as I threw a punch into the side of my wall, swearing as pain shot through my knuckles. “The spot in the wall that I punch a lot if starting to crack Loki, call the carpenter!” I yelled, as I kicked the wall, clearly just too p***ed off to act seriously at the moment. Shaking my head I pressed my face into the palm of my gloved hand, groaning.

“What am I going to do…” I muttered, quieter once again, as I leaned against the wall. There was a moment where I let my eyes closed, thoughts running through my head so fast, that my brain felt numb. Raising my hand I rubbed against my temples, trying to ease the migraine that was coming on.

“I’m going out.” I grumbled, as I stood up, and went to pull on a hoodie. It was freezing, and ice rain was coming down. Zipping it up, I managed to strap my katana into the inside of my cargo pants, the one that wasn’t currently missing.

I was going to do something stupid, I was going to do something stupid and I knew it. Hell, maybe I’d go and get myself killed, by whoever it was that took my things. They’d got me angry, I was acting irrational…but I didn’t care. I had a feeling whoever it was that did this, was going to show their face soon enough.

As I stormed out the door, and basically kicked it closed with one of my boots, I held my breath. I’d never even thought about taking my weapons out while I was in my day clothes. Yet here I was, katana in hand, ready to go bust some heads, and get back what was rightfully mine.

Without my helmet and my usual thicker leather clothing, I felt exposed. It was harder to get a sword or a bullet through leather, than it was to get through a mixture of cotton and polyester.

But as I walked I knew I would find the person soon, and that they wouldn’t give up what I wanted, without a fight.

Walking down the street of the city that never slept, I don’t know why, but I turned into an alley. Away from the flashing lights, and the safety of society, into the darker unlit area of the city, to go and get my sword.

There was a pause, as I let my eyes adjust to the dark lightning, before I continued on. And then I saw him…a helmet on his head. Was he freaking mocking me? As I growled, I tugged the katana out, discarding the hilt on the ground, stepping back and running wityhout a single thought.

There was a vibration through my arms as soon as the metal clashed with the metal, a clang sounding out in the thin alley. No words were spoken, but I was determined to get rid of this snot. My eyes only went wide, when I noticed exactly what the man was fighting with.

My sword…it was on.





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