The Assassin

The snow elegantly fell onto the floor as the glistening white
car cruised down the long deserted and icy road. The trees
were naked and the air was crisp, a menacing mist surrounded
the lone car.
The figure inside the car was a thin, white man; he had a very
distinctive facial structure, his chin was elongated and he had
pearly white teeth. He wore a short sleeved shirt and black
trousers; a solid gold wedding band decorated his ring finger.
Even more noticeable, was a huge, yet thin, scar on his left
arm; it reached from his ring finger up to his elbow.
The presenter on the radio introduced the next song: For all of
you out there that are making that long journey home for
Christmas, heres a little something, to keep you going: Chris
Rea: Driving Home For Christmas. The drivers face lit up; a
smile spread across his face. It was just the exact song he
fancied listening to, for today was Christmas morning: 6:30 am.
The car made regular stops at different traffic lights; on every
occasion

he

scanned

his

back

seat.

His

gaze

would

momentarily linger upon a certain box; this box was gift

wrapped, with the prettiest red bow to top it. The note, upon
the gift tag, was carefully written: for my precious little
princess, all my love daddy x
Unbeknown to the driver, a masked figure lurked around his
home. The assassin held an Enfield sniper rifle, elongated with
a silencer. The killer had laid out a single white rose, barely
visible against the snow, lying on the uneven floor. They were
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staring, coldly, at a beautiful and quaint cottage. The dwelling

was isolated, in every meaning of the word. There was a small
weaving road that led to, and from, the house. There was a
small, stone path, ancient in look, which led you to the door.
The snow blanketed everything except that small path, which
was unusual. It looked like the icing on top of a cake. But that
was it. No other houses, not even a garage; just that covered
driveway. The thatched roof was sheltered in snow, and the
illuminated Christmas decorations pierced the fog and lit up the
house; making it visible from a distance.
The figure was wearing full white with no other colour visible.
They had white boots, white, baggy pants, a white fur coat and
a

white

balaclava.

Only

their

dark

eyes

pierced

their

camouflage. The assassin chose white because it would enable

them to blend in with the blanket of snow. The assassin was
wearing black underneath; it was barely noticeable. They had a
black bag, hidden under the snow, which was empty except for
a small pair of black shoes.
The assassin kept their scope pointing towards the front door.
The door was wooden with a slight, but noticeable, scratch
below the handle. A small figure was visible looking out the
window. The assassin looked through their scope, aiming at the
figure. The window was clean, and had curtains covering the
sides. The hired gun noticed that the figure was a small girl;
couldnt have been over the age of 4.
She was clearly excited and was eagerly awaiting the return of
her father. She had left her presents wrapped as she wanted
her dad to see her open them. The mother was sitting on the
floor, with the baby of the family. The baby looked only a few
months old, and she was clearly enjoying her new toys. There

was one lone and long leather brown couch that stood against
the wall. It was covered in wrappings that have been ripped
apart by the baby.
The only light came from the huge blazing fire, which stood
underneath a beautiful marble fireplace. A family portrait hung
proudly above the fire. The picture showed the perfect family.
The heavily dressed tree loomed over the children and it stood
proudly in the corner; the presents hiding underneath it. The
tree was littered with decorations and crowned with a star at
the top.
Outside the house the snow covered the lawn. Tiny footprints
were spread throughout the layer of snow. Robins sat upon the
empty trees, singing tuneless songs. Tiny rabbits scurried out of
the cold. The families cat ran around the garden, rolling in the
snow; she eventually slipped through the cat flap, which
whipped the air, and ran into the lounge. She snuggled up to
the young girl, who embraced the cold cat warming her up.
The young girl welcomed the company, as she waited,
patiently, for her father to come home.
The assassin grew impatient. Their finger was on the trigger,
raring to go. Finally, the gleaming white car pulled up outside
the cottage. The murderer breathed a sigh of relief as their
waiting had come to an end. The young girl had burst with
excitement; she waved eagerly to her father. He waved back
and headed to the back of the car. The snow crunched under
his feet. He pulled out the box and the girls face lit up. She
rushed to the front door waiting for her father to open it. She
was ready to run at him and embrace him. The man walked to
the front door, the crunching sound had stopped as he stepped
onto the bare pathway; he placed the box on the floor in front
of the door.
2

He searched around his pockets for the keys to his house. At

last he found them and went to open the door. However, he
heard a snapping noise behind him. It was the assassin who,
stupidly, had stood on a twig. The loud snapping sound broke
the silence and the noise echoed through the air, disturbing the
fog. The man dismissed it, seeing the rabbits, robins, and other
animals scurrying around. The man went to open the door; but
he never did.
The trigger had finally been pushed. The bullet screeched
through the fog and collided with the mans skull. The man,
with his back facing the door, fell to his knees; his eyes still
open. He watched the bullet drop to the floor of the pathway,
almost as it was in slow-motion. Then he followed. He collided
with the floor letting off a very faint thudding sound. Blood
poured from the mans head and slid across the floor; it looked
like an oil slick in the ocean.
The assassin had picked up their gun and the rose, hastily
threw their white clothes into the bag. The assassin had casual
black clothes on, and her long, golden-blonde hair fell down
past her shoulders. She slipped off her boots, and casually
squeezed the other pair of shoes on. She headed towards the
body. She pushed the man on to his back. Then she laid the
rose on his body, using his hands to support it. She followed by
saying, You did not deserve to die. But its just business, my
friend. She walked away, disappearing like a ghost in the
night.
The young girl was growing impatient. She had waited hours
and wasnt prepared to wait any longer. She rushed towards the
door, but stopped short. An unsuspected feeling of dread
flooded her body. She slowly approached the door once again,
and eventually reached out and grabbed the handle. She pulled
2

it down and pushed the door open. She was hoping to see her
father, standing, waiting with a present, and with a huge smile
on his face. However, what she got was completely different.
The first thing she saw was the huge, and untouched, box, gift
wrapped in red and with a huge bow on top. The box covered
the body, but the girl didnt know this. The girl moved the box
to unveil a body; her fathers body. The blood had stretched
further, and the stench rose; so much so that the mother could
smell it. The young girl had fallen to her knees, and let out a
silent cry.
The mother had poked her head out of the door. The stench
caught her curiosity and she had to investigate. Then it hit her
eyes; the sight of her daughter, kneeling in blood, and silently
weeping over her father. The mother was overwhelmed, and fell
instantly to her knees. She dragged herself to her husbands
body, and joined her daughter in a silent cry.
The two had finally lifted themselves away from the body. The
sight was eerily peaceful; the man lay on the floor with his
hands holding a beautiful white rose on his chest. The mother
couldnt make a noise, instead tears just streamed down her
face. She could taste them her salty tears. Finally, the baby
had crawled out of the house, and crawled to her father. She
climbed up her dad and shouted in his face, Dada? The young
girl and the mother let out a painful sob.

Nightmare
I stepped onto the bus and paid my fare. I walked to the back of the bus and sat
on the back seat. I liked to sit there. I enjoyed people watching. I liked to
observe people and their behaviour. One person, in particular, caught my eye.
She was a middle aged woman and was with a child. I presumed it was her
daughter. They talked amongst each other. I couldnt hear them. I noticed a tear
falling from her eyes. She wiped them away. I stood up and moved closer to her. I
could hear her now. She was comforting her child. Her child was asking where
they were going. Its a surprise said her mother. She was constantly wiping
tears away when her daughter wasnt looking.
I presumed something bad had happened. I felt for her. My stop was fast
approaching. I stepped up, ready to exit the bus. She did the same. She pulled
her daughter up. She stood in front of me. I began to grow concerned. I thought I
would follow her. However, she was going the same way I was initially going. I
stayed at least four to five paces behind her. She walked down the long street.
She then came to a standstill and I crossed the road, still watching her.
She was standing outside an old farm house. The house had been here long
before any other house. It was old even when the area surrounding it was just
fields. The house had a tree hanging down above the door. Despite being very
old fashioned, it had double glazed windows. The grass is overgrown and there is
a shrub covering the whole left side of the house. There was a large tree just to
the left of the door. The leaves started just above the roof. The walkway to the
door was cracked and grass was spouting in between each slate.
She walked towards the door. The door swung open. She wasnt alarmed, like she
knew it would happen. I was worried. I wanted to say something, but I was stuck,
I couldnt move. She stepped her final steps. She stepped into complete
darkness, and the door swung close behind her. I couldnt see anything. I rushed
towards the door. I banged on the door. My breathing was heavy. Somehow, I felt
I had a responsibility. No lights were on in the house. All the windows had the
curtains drawn. There was no response. I continued to bang on the door again.
No reply. I grew angry, as if the door itself was refusing me access.
Finally, after about twenty minutes of trying, I gave up. I stepped back and
accepted the fact that the door was not going to open. I stood there for several
2

moments, staring at the door. The door was black. It looked heavy, and it really
hurt my hands. There were no patterns on this door. It was just a dark black, the
darkest black imaginable. I walked home, head down. I felt embarrassed. As if I
had been outwitted by a mere door.
I arrived home, and I opened my door with no problem. I walked inside,
expecting my wife and child. I was greeted with nothingness. Utter and complete
emptiness. I walked into my kitchen. Nothing. I ran into my living room, then my
front room; nothing. I ran upstairs and into my childs bedroom. Nothing. I ran
into every other room; nothing, except my bed, nothing but my bed. I walked
back into my childs room. Again, nothing. I noticed the window was open. The
curtains were blowing in the wind. I noted that there was no wind when I was
outside.
I felt a feeling of worthlessness. I had been abandoned by my wife and child. I
couldnt even open a door. I slipped into my bed and dozed off. I re awoke
several times during the night, sweating. I had dreamt of the door, the house. I
had thought of what was inside. I had imagined a grand house. Endless amounts
of space. It was, approximately, 3:30 AM before I jumped out of bed. I was still
fully clothed. I paced around the room, thinking of that house. I rushed down the
stairs and out the door. I sprinted down the road. The road seemed to be getting
longer, and longer. Until, suddenly, I came to a stop. I was outside the house. I
was right outside the door. The door seemed larger. The house, however, seemed
smaller. I noticed a huge chimney, that wasnt there before. It was puffing
smoke, lots of smoke. The windows were still closed. I stared the door down. I
noticed a small opening now. I ran at the door. I jumped into the door. The door
fell to the floor. I jumped up.
Nothing The house was empty. It was dark, but I could feel the emptiness. The
woman was gone. The child gone too. I slowly made my way to the back of the
house. I turned around. I saw the light flooding through the door. I walked,
endlessly, to the back of the house. It seamed like an eternity before I heard a
creaking sound. I turned suddenly. I couldnt see the light. I ran towards the door.
I hammered the door. Nothing. The door was showing no signs of moving. I pulled
and pulled. Nothing. There were no windows. I was confused. There was windows
on the outside. I scourged the house, the best I could. I found nothing, but a
loose floor board. I tore it out. There was a small hole. I ripped away the rest of
the floor boards. There was now a huge hole. I couldnt see the bottom. I tried
once more to escape, with no success.
I weighed up my options. If I stayed here I would face certain death. I decided to
jump. I plummeted down. I continued to fall. It seemed as there was no end, until
it did. I hit the ground with a loud thud. I bended my knees and rolled over as I
landed. I had hurt my legs as I landed. There were lanterns hanging up on the
wall. The path was light up. I slowly walked down the path. There was a carpet on
the floor; a red, royal looking carpet. It had gold designs sewed into it. There
were portraits hanging up on the wall. There was one in between each lantern.

Each were men; each man had a similar, wrinkly, looking face. They had red,
bloodshot eyes.

Whodunit?
The year is 1899. The date is 31st December. The time... Well I dont know the
time. I am writing this by candle light. I find it hard to concentrate as the light
flickers across my face and the paper. There is just me left now... All the others
have gone. They have gone to a better place, a richer place. We were promised a
chance to find 500. They promised us... What did we do to them? You have to
help me! Im trapped in here. I dont know where I am. There is somebody in the
house. The doors are barricaded and locked as well as the windows. Im scared,
extremely scared. Who is in the house? Why, why am I here? Every moment that
passes by the stench become stronger. I cant cope! I want to go! Youre probably
confused arent you...? Well let me start from the beginning:
Two days ago, five friends and I entered this lovely house. It was a beautiful
radiant day and the house paralleled the day. It was a Sunday. We entered this
place full of high hopes and good spirits. None of us was happier to be here than
John. He said he couldnt wait to get the 500 prize. It was a treasure hunt. The
first one to find the money inside this gigantic, grand house would keep it. The
others would walk away with nothing. Well... That was the plan. The doors and
windows would be locked until the money was found. However, Im starting to
think that there is no money!
That very same day, just a couple of hours after our arrival, we all decided to pair
up and split up in search for the money. Us all being friends we decided whoever
finds the money it would be split evenly. So John and Rod went into the
basement. Todd and I went into the loft, and George and Peter decided to search

everywhere else. After about 25 minutes later, we all heard screams coming from
the basement. Acting quickly I ran down there to see what was going on. What I
saw was mentally disturbing.
I saw Rod and just the shoes of John at the foot of a furnace. Rods face had been
slashed. Rod uttered his final words, Beware... Beware... He is going to get
you... When I asked who, it was too late. I searched for John and couldnt find
him anywhere. The only thing I could think of was that he had been thrown into
the furnace. The rest of us where on guard the entire time. Whilst still looking for
the money we decided that we should all stick together. That night as we went to
bed, we decided to take turns guarding the room. I was first.
Many hours later, I awoke Todd and informed him that it was his turn. He forced
himself out of bed and into the chair. The chair was incredibly uncomfortable. It
was harder than a rock and it has a loose leg. I climbed into bed, feeling safe in
the knowledge that Todd was a trained fighter and survivalist expert. I re awoke
that morning only to find that Todd had fell asleep on the chair. I stumbled over
to him and tried to awake him from what seemed like a deep sleep. After several
unsuccessful attempts I decided to push him from the chair. Nothing. I then
fetched a glass of water and poured it over him... Nothing. I then noticed that the
water was starting to tint a reddish colour. Realising that he had been stabbed
several times through the night, I started to panic.
How can I defend myself if a trained survivor and fighter couldnt? I shook Peter
and George. They fought with me so that they could stay asleep. They won. I let
them wake up when they felt like, which was several hours later. I started looking
for a clock. I couldnt find one. I remember that no one had a watch except John.
Peter and George had obviously seen Todd as they where squealing and running
down the stairs to cower behind me. I kept cool on the outside, but on the inside
I too was trembling like a little girl. The only thing on my mind was, Who done
it?
I found it hard to separate away from George and Peter for the entirety of that
day. Nothing much happened. No one had even bothered to look for the money.
The day passed by at an agonisingly slow speed. George and Peter had tried to
escape but had finally come to except that there is no walking away from this
house. Despite the large open spaces in the house, I began to become
claustrophobic, I felt as if I was trapped. (Because I was)
As I write this I stare into the bodies of Peter and George. Both of them are
hanging from the wall, sword through their heads is the only thing keeping them
up. My candle is running low and with what little light there is left I take one last
look into Peters eyes. I see myself, and behind me I see J

I Didnt Believe...
As soon as I saw her, my heart skipped a beat. Seeing her beautiful face in the
shining sun just made me want more. I made my way to class and sat at a table,
waiting for class to start. I looked up once and there she was. She was walking
towards the empty seat next to me. I stared into her delightful eyes. She just
smiled at me and took her place in the seat next to mine. I havent seen you in
the school before. Are you new? I asked. Yes she replied. She smiled. She has
the most elegant smile, a smile that could brighten the darkest of days. Her skin
looked so smooth and her face was as pure as any angel God could create. I was
lost for words as; once again, I just stared into her deep blue eyes. I didnt
believe in love at first sight, but... Maybe it is true. As the day progressed I
couldnt stop looking at her. I didnt even know her name.
Approximately half an hour into the lesson she asked me, So, what lessons have
you got today then? We compared our timetable and realised that we were in
every one of each others lessons. I smiled at her, and she giggled back. Shes a
2

polite girl. She is generous, kind and just amazing all round. Id only known her
for around an hour before I realised this. The day passed by and every time I saw
her face I felt happy. I got butterflies in my stomach at the shier mention of her
name. I truly adored her. By the time school had finished, I didnt want to go
home. I wanted to stay with her. But I had to go home. It took me fifteen minutes
to walk home. I threw my bag into the cupboard and sat on the couch adjacent
my mother. I sighed.
Whats the matter? She asked. Oh nothing. I said. She looked at me and said,
No, really. I can tell when somethings bothering you. So, what is it? I sighed
once more. Its this girl at school. Shes really great. I adore her. Shes new and I
dont know how to tell her how I feel., Oh., She said, Well... When youre
father told me how he felt about me he just... just... err... Well forget what we
did! You should just tell her how you feel and see what she says. I mean all she
can do is say no. I laughed. Oh thanks mum! Saying she is going to say no.
Great encouragement! She laughed and said, You know what I mean. The
WORST she can do is say no, and if she does its her loss. Its not that simple
mum. The conversation continued for a good part of an hour before I heard a
knock on the door. It was my friend, John. He and I both go to kickboxing
together. Its only an amateur one. Each session could last for up to 2 hours. I
could never remember the name of the gym but I knew it was near the grey
chaser.
I returned home to be treated to my dinner. I sat down and we eat as a family for
the first time in at least three months. We were having Lasagne with garlic
bread. It was delicious. I eat it all not leaving a single drop of food on my plate. I
retreated upstairs to facebook. Facebook bored me within minutes of logging on.
I turned my attention to her. I had to at least tell my computer how I felt for her. I
began to write a poem, expressing my love for her. I was opting for the
infamously difficult sonnet. Living up to its title I decided to drop to an ordinary
poem, and even that proved a challenge. My clock read; 20:38 when I had
started. When I had stopped it read; 02:12. I panicked, realising that I had to be
up for school in a little over five hours. I dreamt of her, as I fell asleep. However,
even my dreams were no substitute for seeing her in the flesh.
The next morning I woke up in a foul mood, due to lack of sleep. I moaned as I
stumbled down the stairs. It seemed like the stairs had grew. I groaned as I
poured myself a bowl of Cheerios. Ironic isnt it. I was eating a cereal named
Cheerios when I wasnt quite cheerio myself. Nevertheless I ate the cereal
because breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I threw on my shoes
and tucked in the laces. I still never knew how to tie those buggers. I sat around
the house for a while. Then, fifteen minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. It
was my friend Thomas. Alright lad. Walkin to school? He asked. Yeh. Just wait
there. I answered as I fetched homework.
It wasnt a long walk to school, but the entire journey Thomas wouldnt shut up. I
didnt mind, only because I wasnt listening. I was too busy thinking about her.
Her perfect smile... Her perfect voice... Her perfect... Everything. Before I knew it,

we had arrived at school. I headed straight to registration, without even

acknowledging Thomas. As I stepped into registration I was greeted to an empty
room. What day is it? I thought to myself. Ah, no! Its Tuesday. Assembly! I
rushed towards the assembly hall, knowing I was late. I waited outside the hall.
Moments later she walked through the doors and stood next to me, smiling. After
waking up in a foul mood and being late to assembly... I didnt think the day
could go well. However, when she smiled... All my troubles and worries just
seemed to disappear. I enjoyed the little time we had alone with each other,
nobody spoke... But it was just great to see her. A teacher joined us and sighed.
He asked us why we were late. Up late, sir. I said. Missed the bus, sir. She
said, immediately after me. He shook his head, Detention. After school. My
room.
Usually I dreaded detentions, but this one I was actually looking forward to.
Maybe because she was there with me, I dont know. I spent the rest of the day
planning things to say to her in detention. I couldnt think of anything. No words
would ever be good enough for her. She deserved the best of anything and the
best of everything. These things, I could not offer. Never could I offer her these
things. After school I turned up to the detention first. Five minutes after me, she
straggled in. Sorry Im late sir. Miss kept me behind. What for? He asked,
Been naughty? No sir, just some work Ive done. She was quite impressed
ACTUALLY (!) She replied. I laughed as she sat three seats away from me. It
wasnt anything personal... Just sirs orders. Through the whole detention I just
stared at her, looking away whenever she looked back. I couldnt summon the
courage to tell her how I felt.
Months had passed by before I finally became a man and told her. It was the 14 th
of February. Again I had another terrible morning. Feeling ill in the morning and
even more so as the day progressed. I was wondering where she was. She wasnt
in any lessons so far. I became curious. Then she burst into the class room. I
turned to see her glowing face. My ill feeling had gone. Just like that. I smiled and
stood up. I walked over to her and said, I have something to tell you. What?
She asked. I thought for a moment, Nothing... It can wait. She had a confused
look on her face as I walked away. I was feeling so confident, but I guess saying it
is one thing... but actually doing it is a completely different thing altogether.
Later that day, I confessed my feeling to my best friend. She told that I should
tell her. She also said that today would be the best time, seeing as its valentines
day. I agreed with her. It took me two whole lessons to build up the courage to
tell her. It was 15:00, five minutes before the end of the school day. She reentered the room, after fetching paper for the teacher. I stood up and took a
huge deep breath. My friend looked over in anticipation. I sat back down. I
couldnt do it. Finally I walked over to her. The time was now 15:04. I looked her
in the eye. She stood up. I kneeled before her, as if I was proposing. I took her
hands and looked into her eyes once more. You are the most beautiful person in
the world. Youre just amazing. I dream of you whenever I close my eyes. I cant
stop thinking about you. She blushed, Just the thought of you brings a smile to
my face. My eyes started to water as the bell rang. Nobody moved. Everybody

was too busy staring at us. You make the world a better place. Youre gorgeous
in every single way. You are perfect. I havent known you for very long, but every
moment I spend with you is pure bliss. I was quickly running out of words. If
God were to ask me whether I wanted to live the rest of my life. Or spend one
last day with you. I would say; even one second with you is worth more than my
life alone. I had come to the conclusion of my confession. So I said, Will you
be my valentine? No She said, Im already somebody elses valentine. If it
makes you feel any better... I never really saw you in that way anyway. It never
made me feel better. Sorry but..... I put my finger over her lips and stood up.
One tear burst from my eye and slowly made its way down my cheek. I walked
away, without uttering a single word.