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The Perfect Murder

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It was planned for months
The maliciously perfect murder
He could already taste the smell of blood
That would run down the target’s body
And onto his plush carpet in his multimillion dollar mansion
He didn’t know if this was going to be for revenge
Or avenging

Now is the time to go
Now is the time to end what the Templars had started
Now is the time to end the Templars
Who have made his life a living Hell
Since his late teenage years

He makes his way slowly
Through the almost empty streets
His target is moving
He scales the walls
That wind around the city limits
In silence
Hoping not to be detected by the enemies
Who have killed his father and brother
This kill is critical
It is perfect
For the war against the government

Hopping from posts that are somehow perfectly aligned
The assassin hovers over the target
Who doesn’t expect his enemy
To be hearing his evil plans
Which emanate from his mouth
He almost slips on the hard, orange, clay rooftop
Raising suspicion from the target
Yet on he moves

Once the target has moved into his abode
The assassin is on the move
He climbs the gray wall
Grabbing bricks and decorative items
That illustrates high placing in government
He reaches the top of the wall
Where guards are standing steadfastly
In their royal uniforms, just waiting for some fool
To come and invade
Without missing a beat
He free runs around the wall
Until his target is right underneath him
In jumping distance

A leap of faith his taken
And the assassination has been completed
The perfect murder has been done
With his Sultan’s Knife
He lodges it into the back of the target’s neck
The blade racks across his vertebrae
His flesh is old, wrinkled
It tells of years of experience
He is the second to last Templar
He was the second to last Templar

The blood spray is heavy
And soaks the assassin’s white cloak
Making it as crimson as his sash
That bears the Creed’s mark
The Creed that took him in
And made him the assassin he is now

The guards are speedily making their way
Toward the fool who came and invaded
The assassin strikes few of the traitors
And makes his grand escape
He jumps onto boxes lying across the court yard
He uses them to launch onto a flag pole
That holds the royal flag
Then runs up the same gray wall
There’s not much time left till the guards get to him
The assassin looks down to see what the ground below
Holds for a quick escape
There it is
His ticket out of there

It was the second leap of faith that day
He dives into the cart
The hay softens his landing and makes for a good cover up
His breath is short
Not just from the fall
But from the fact that he is so close
To avenging his father and brother





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