The first female Assassin

The first female Assassin, Lucy-Jo, has a heck of a lot on her mind. Her best friend, Joel, has been horrificly murdered by the Keepers' arch enemy, Sumaito. Lucy-Jo is itching for revenge, but she has to keep her Assassin secret from her new family and friends as The Boss tries to mix her with 'normal' kids. Will Lucy-Jo get the revenge she hungers for? Or will things be too much for her?


1. The first female Assassin

Fog settled on the eerily silent village. All of the villagers were cooped up inside their dark houses for it was bitterly cold outside. As the hours crawled by, the fog thickened and the temperature dropped alarmingly low- so low, the water particles in the fog froze. It began to snow and a blizzard was soon roaring. It was a common factor to recieve weather like this up in the mountains. It was difficult to see a foot in front of you and fog lights were no help whatsoever. Especially at night.

As dawn approached, a cloaked figure could be paritally seen walking steadily up the mountain. Their face was

hidden beneath a cowl; the shoulders, hem and top of the hooded head were covered in glistening white snow. The figure was small in height and had the air of a person who didn't care what happened to them. The unknown character stalked slowly and calmly towards an abandoned-looking cottage. It was worn-out, tiles were missing from the roof and the only window at the front of this cottage had been smashed and boarded up. The door hung off its hinges and the light above it flickered feebly; momentarily illuminating an old rocking chair. It creaked slowly back and forth, propelled by a weak and timid old man. He was like a skeleton, every bone of his limbs and face jutted out underneath his taunt white skin. Under his fraying straw hat was a balding head of grey and white hair. He wore a T-shirt and shorts which appeared a hundred times too big for him. His eyes were hidden by the rim of his hat, but when he looked up, the cloaked person saw that his eyes were dark and sunken, with big black shadows underneath.

"It's good to see you, my friend."

"And you, commrade." The mysterious figure had been instructed to play the role of someone else. "I am as

confused as ever why you remain unaffected by this freezing weather. As well as how you can live in such poor conditions." The old man smiled warmly, his teeth suprisingly clean and healthy, if slightly chipped.

"Not everyone needs riches to live."

"You say that everytime, but then say no more of the subject."

"Do you wish to join me for supper? It's chicken soup tonight."

"That'd be lovely, thank you." The frail old man rose unsteadily and led his companion into his hut, hobbling slightly.

There was very little furniture in here. A low down bed occupied one corner; a brickwork fireplace was centered in the right of the wall of when they came in. Two wooden chairs with home-made cushions for padding were stationed in front of the fireplace, at angles. Two small candles positioned either end of the mantlepiece were lit and a photo of a young woman in a wooden frame stood proudly in the middle of the small display. The young woman was Josie May; the old man's daughter, who'd run away for a 'better life'. On the old wooden floor lay a single threadbare rug.

A fire was lit, the soup was cooked and the old man settled into his chair. He was most curious of why his friend

had not removed their cloak. But the companion appeared less than worried of whether or not they wore their cloak. They sat in silence as they finished their soup.

"You are not the same person who usually visits me." the old man said, a sharp definite tone ringing in his voice.

"I am a stand in. The last person was... slain." the cloak person confessed sadly.

"Slain? By whom?" The old man's visitor remained silent, but the elder man knew. "Sumaito?" His guest nodded.

The man slid down in his chair several inches. "If Joel is gone, who are you?" he asked quietly. He waited a while for an answer. Finally, his guess lifted their hands and pulled down their hood. The elderly man expected to see a boy, but instead, a young girl sat there. Her dark brown spiky, shoulder-length hair was tied in a low ponytail, was coming loose. Her sea green eyes sparkled in the dancing fire light. She was tough looking, with a scar running across her right eye and down her cheek. She had a few freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks, her eyes hosting a long-dormant cheeky gleam. She had to be about eleven.

"What is your name, child?"

"Lucy-Jo, sir."

"Why are you working for the Keepers? I thought they recruited boys and men alone." The girl got up. She didn't

look happy.

"I proved them wrong. They deemed me weak as I am a girl, but I showed them otherwise."

"I didn't mean to upset you, please explain. And have a seat." Lucy-Jo sat down after a long pause.

"I've lived on the streets for the last three years. I protected myself. I already knew moves and no-one trained me.

I won many fights against other, older boys. I saw an advert- the Keepers were recruiting. It said nothing of boys only. So I went along and they refused point blank to let me in. So who saved their Leaded when Sumaito's minions attacked?"

"Who did?"

"I did." The girl sounded irritated. The old man raised his head slightly.

"Remove your cloak." Lucy-Jo did and let it fall to the floor. She wore black trousers, a black long sleeved top and

laced black pumps. Over that, she wore a dark red leather chest plate; on her lower arms were holders of  the same red leather, obviously hidden knives. Over the dark red were intricate black patterns, painted on by the owner.

"Well? Don't sit there gawking. I'm on a tight schedule."

"You are an Assassin."

"I know."

"Girls can't be Assassins. It's hard and dangerous for them."

"Not for me, it's not! I'm not like the other girls! They scream at tiny spiders while I take on much worse with the

others of my league! And I must be leaving now. I was never supposed to show you who I am without the Boss's permission. And please, remember Joel," she stooped to pick her cloak up, "He was like a brother to me." She draped her cloak around her shoulders, pulled the hood up and left.


"Where is she?"

"She's in the training room, sir."

"As always." The boy nodded and returned to his studying. He was a newbie, for the technology department. He

was a stocky boy, agile, with strawberry blond hair and sky-blue eyes.

The leader of the Keepers, The Boss, was tall and muscular. He was a Master Assassin, the one who had

appointed the girl. The girl who had saved him from the feroucious Blood Hounds. Those blood-thirsty beasts were the size of full grown polar bears and contaminated anyone they bit with incurable venom. All Assassins wore the same black clothing and red leather armour. They always had hidden blades and a back-up knife either strapped to their belts or their thighs.

The Boss had black hair and dark green eyes that shone with power, showing he was in charge. His hair stuck

up in all directions, making him a handsome figure- nice on the outside, vicious on the inside.

He went to the training room, which was a large round room, weapons one side- swords, knives, chains and

anything the Assassins, Warriors and Fighters would use.

Lucy-Jo stood in the middle, so still, it was as if she was a statue. From the shadows, leapt a Warrior, his sword

aimed at her head. He was a brunette, with cropped hair and daek grey eyes. He wore black clothes, like an Assassin, minus the red armour.

She drew her knife so fast, if he'd blinked, the Boss would've missed it. She deflected the boy's blade with her

own, twisted it round, sending the boy straight down, landing on his back with a painful thud. He kicked his feet back and flipped up, drawing the dagger from his belt. It was his skills versus her talent, speed and strength. She swung at his head, he lent back. With her other hand she grabbed his wrist, forcibly pushed him round, his arm wrapped around his front, her hand clutching his wrist painfully, the cold metal of her knife at his throat, his dagger lying, useless, at his feet, his sword three feet from that.

"Excellent work, Lucy-Jo. You may release him." She did and he retrieved his weapons.

"Nice try, Marcus." Lucy-Jo bowed in his direction and he responded with a bow and a smile. He bowed to the

Boss and departed.

"Lucy-Jo, I bring you some news."

"What news? Sir?" she added hastily, sheathing her knife.

"We have found your family. And we are certain before you say anything."

"I don't have a family." she sighed, shaking her head at the floor.

"No, you do. Not your parents, but three sisters and two brothers, along with a half-brother, three cousins and an

aunt." Lucy-Jo said nothing. She was lost, deep in thought. The Boss watched her curiously.

"First of all, how do you know?"

"Joel's death allowed us access to his computer. He and a few of the technicians had been researching your

family tree in an unpaid favour and out of friendship to you. I know what you're going to ask. Your aunt will be informed of your existence and she will explain to your half-brother. The rest should be old enough to remember you as an infant."

"What if they freak about me being an Assassin? What will I do then? What will you do?"

"Do not tell them."

"That's easier said then done, sir." Lucy-Jo turned from the Boss, looking at the floor. "It'll end like it always does.

He will hunt them down and he will kill them. I can't protect all of them, not on my own."

"Do not despair, child. I know a willing team of Assassins and Warriors alike will help if you ask nicely enough."

The Boss watched the thoughtful girl, sensing her brain working a million miles an hour. Lucy-Jo was remembering how Sumaito tracked her down. Lucy-Jo had recently met her so-called 'grandparents', who claimed to be her mother's foster parents. Lucy-Jo hadn't even been with them for a fortnight, when Sumaito found her. The Boss arrived in time to save Lucy-Jo, but both Assassins were too late for the grandparents. "Lucy-Jo, I vowed to protect you when you joined our ranks. I owe you my life and you've been an angel- almost like a daughter to me. If you need help with anything, I'll be willing to give it. Again, Lucy-Jo said nothing.


Lucy-Jo lay on her bed, staring up at the white ceiling. She had a small room to herself in the Assassins' block, seeing as she was the only female Assassin ever. The walls were black and the soft carpet was white. Her duvet cover was a dobule sided one- black on one side, white on the other, with a matching pillow. On the wall opposite her bed, painted on, was a large symbol of Yin and Yan. Her bedside table was white wood, with a black lamp and white lampshade. Next to it in a black metal frame was a black and white photo- a close up of Lucy-Jo and her late friend Joel. Lucy-Jo had held the camera above their heads, her arm laced playfully around his neck. The photo had been taken the day before Joel had died. Correction, Lucy-Jo thought angrily, before Joel was killed.

Joel was a nice, mature boy, fourteen years of age with a brilliant mind and a wicked sense of humour. He had

always doted on Lucy-Jo like a sister, being someone she could have a laugh or a talk or a moan with. He was a right charmer: dark hair and velvet blue eyes and a cheeky grin, sometimes hosting that charmer's tilt. With it, he could get pretty much anyone, except Lucy-Jo, to do what he wanted. Lucy-Jo thought back to the week before, the last time she had talked to him. Joel had been working in the techies' outdoor lab- a new-ish huge caravan, cleared of all furniture and replaced with the technicians' work.

"Oh, hey Lucy-Jo. Lemme guess... you've got free time and-" Joel grinned, closing the lid of his laptop.

"And I thought of checking in on ma best bud. Now smile." She pounced on him, whisking out a camera from

behind her back. They grinned up at it. Lucy-Jo had removed the flash, knowing that Joel's eyes were sensitive to light closer to him than that of his laptop.

"OK, little Miss Charmer, you've got your picture. Anything else I can help you with?" Joel asked, smiling.

"Unless you know where to get about a dozen straight jackets and about as much gags, then no."

"Why would you want straight jackets and gags?" Joel said, trying not to chuckle.

"Obvioulsy, that lot were up again last night."

"Didn't you do something?"

"Obviously, Brainy. Told 'em all to shut it or I'll see what their blood looks like on the floor. What were you doing

anyway?" She moved forward and sat on his lap. She made to open the laptop, but Joel stopped her. "Oh, come on, Joel. I only wanna peek."

"No way, L.J. Might be a tad complicated for you."

"You could teach me."

"You wouldn't focus long enough. All you Assassins are the same- too impulsive to understand our work."

"Hey, one of us might be able to."

"Nice try, Lucy-Jo." He grinned and shook his head at her. "Haven't you got any assignments then?"

"No, but I should be getting one soon. I heard the Boss telling one of the Medics about some guy bad-mouthing

human rights and so on. I saw him on the news earlier- he looked like a physco gorilla." Lucy-Jo felt her friend shaking in silent laughter.

"Don't be so mean."

"I wasn't. I'm just saying what I think."

"Yeah OK. I still can't believe your still new to all of this. You kick everyone's butt."

"Everyone except the Boss's." She reminded him. An alarm sounded and a red warning light flared into life. "I

gotta go. I'll try and come back later." Lucy-Jo jumped up, waving as she left. Joel smiled to himself and turned back to his work. Lucy-Jo was a right caution; everyone loved her to bits.


That had been the last time Lucy-Jo had seen Joel. Alive. She couldn't go back to see him that day. She was busy fighting along side all the Warriors, Assassins and Fighters, all of them doing their best to protect the Keepers' fort from the Blood Hounds and hench-hounds of Sumaito. They turned tail and fled as soon as they Sun rose. Lucy-Jo caught a hench-hound as it round past her. She held her sword, point down, as it galloped past. It fell to the ground, in two halves, the insides shining in the rising sun, its blood soaking the ground.

Lucy-Jo was also trained as a Medic. She cared for the half of Keepers' seriously injured and tended to every

need of those who were infected by Blood Hounds until they passed away. She fell asleep as soon as the last of the injured did, the dead covered by white sheets. The afternoon Medic, Johnathon, woke her and she jumped at the chance to go and see Joel.

She'd got to his work lab. The door was hanging off its hinges. Lucy-Jo cautiously stepped round it. Joel was

lying on the floor. Or what was left of him. His body had been ripped, distorted, stabbed, slashed and mauled at. His insides glistened in the light. She knew it was Joel, even if his face was unrecognisable. The tattered remains of his shirt were draped across him. Lucy-Jo stood stock still in horror, before-  for the first time ever- she fell to her knees, crying her heart out uncontrably. The Boss found her like that half an hour later. He picked her up, kicking and yelling. She didn't want to leave her friend, but she didn't want to stay either. The Boss was talking to her, but she wasn't listening. All she could think was that Joel was dead and Sumaito had set out to kill him.

From then on, Lucy-Jo was... different. Distant. She rarely talked. She trained harder and became tempermental

protective of those who needed it most, especially the technicians. None of the Medics could do anything. Even the Boss wasn't getting through to the distraught girl. He was becoming more and more unsure of what to do by the minute. He went to see her one day, a bit suprised to see her shoving her stuff into a large black rucksack.

"Lucy-Jo. What are you doing?"

"Leaving. What does it look like?"

"Where will you go?"

"To see if Joel really did find my family. If he did then..." she let the thought hover in the air, unspoken.

"Be sure to take your armour and any weapons of your choice."

"I already have." Lucy-Jo picked up her photo frame. "If there was anyway to bring him back... I'll fight for it. For


"As would the rest of us, Lucy-Jo. Please. Take care of yourself and always keep a hidden weapon on you. You'll

never know when you might need it." She nodded, put the photo carefully in her bag. She bowed to the Boss, before slinging the backpack over her shoulder and leaving.


Lucy-Jo travelled for a month on foot. Walking helped her to exercise her anger and grief- she was channeling her emotions into energy. Nothing seemed to faze her.

It was a mildly sunny day when she arrived at her new home. The detached house had been painted white, the

window and door frames along with the door a rich navy blue. The slate tile roof was shining slightly in the sunshine. The front garden was neat, the grass greener than green, recently mowed. The flowers around the edges in their fresh flowerbeds bloomed. The white gate and fence at the front of the garden had recieved a fresh coat of paint, maybe a week ago. The straight path that was laid down to the door was a 'crazy-path': one made of different slabs of stone; all different shapes, colours and sizes. Lucy-Jo checked left and right down the streets. No-one but the old lady tottering along on the other side of the street. Lucy-Jo pushed open the gate, walking down the path she noticed a group of laughing people through the window on her left. The house was double fronted. All the curtains drawn. She glanced into the living room. Most of them were lounging on sofas. The room looked as if it was from a 60-Minute-Makeover show.

Lucy-Jo knocked on the door, catching sight of her reflection in the window that consumed the top half of the

door, bordered by the navy darkness of the wood. She was nicely tanned, not that she cared. Her eyes were dead and dull, the scar over her eye obvious. Lucy-Jo grinned a souless grin and pulled her cap over her eyes as the door opened. There stood a smiling boy, about nineteen. He was tall. Light brown spiky hair. Hazel eyes. He was obviouslt atheletic. Wearing a white T-shrit and camoflauge trousers.

"Are you Lucy-Jo?" She nodded. The boy's smile brightened. "I'm Mark. It's about time you got here. The guy from

the adopting agency was kinda worried when we said you weren't here last week. Come in, meet the rest of them and... well... make yourself at home." Lucy-Jo followed him in. Mark was a cheeky, friendly and loyal guy. He led her into the front room. Yeah, definitely 60-Minute-Makeover, Lucy-Jo thought, looking round the room. On the sofa by the window were three girls, all blonde with ice blue eyes and all wearing pathetically short shorts and tank tops. They sneered at Lucy-Jo, who glared back, instantly and instinctively thinking of the knives stashed in her backpack. These three were Lucy-Jo's older sisters. Great, Lucy-Jo sighed mentally. The girls were Ayesha, 18; Jennifer, 16 and Karla 15. On another sofa was Lucy-Jo's cousins. They were triplets, Rebecca, Sam and Justin. They were fifteen. Strawberry blonde hair and warm hazel eyes with identical friendly smiles. Next to them sat their mother, Jessica, Lucy-Jo's aunt. Her died red hair was tied up in a top knot and she was dressed simply- jeans and a light blue T-shirt. She was studying Lucy-Jo like a museum artefact, with creepy interest. In the arm chair by another door was Mark's identical twin, Josh. He sat there, smiling warmly to Lucy-Jo, a laptop perched on his knee. Mark had stayed with her, telling her names and relations.

Lucy-Jo looked around the room again. The sofas and armchair were cream leather, an assorted pile of multi-

coloured cushions scattered about on them. The wall opposite the triplets was wallpapered with multi-coloured thin horizontal stripes. The other walls were white. On the multi-coloured wall was a large flat screen TV. Underneath that was a dark oak fireplace. In the centre of its mantlepiece was a cream and blue vase of red and white roses. Either side of that were silver framed photos, both of the same wedding. The couple were smiling at the camera, standing close together and holding hands. Lucy-Jo didn;t know who they were, but she wasn't bothered. Under her feet lay the lush, rich purple carpet.

Lucy-Jo caught sight of her half-brother as he came down the stairs. Her instant thought was: Jeez, what a nerd.

Neville wore a pressed white shirt, tucked neatly into his dark mustard yellow knee length shorts. He wore white socks pulled right up and shined black shoes. Under his chin was a red bow tie. He had large round glasses that he had to keep hitching up. He was constantly chewing his lip as he stared at the scientific calculator in his hand. Under his arm was several slim journals and behind his ear was a pencil. He had reached the bottom and came into the living room, not looking up.

"Hey Neville." Neville practically jumped oout of his skin when Mark spoke to him. His calculator went flying, the

pencil toppled from his ear and the journals fell to the floor. Lucy-Jo dropped her backpack and darted forward, catching the calculator before it hit here aunt on the head. Lucy-Jo didn't care that she was getting odd stares from her new 'family' at her suprising speed. Neville stared at her, scared and curious.

"What?" she asked, befuddled, her throat soar from having not alked in over a month.

"How did you move at such speeds?" Neville asked.

"It's called being a fast runner."

"Why did you save my work then? No-one else would've."

"Err... yeah sure. Whatever. Two reasons- one, it would've hit Aunt Jessica in the back of the head. Two, I don't

feel like putting up with a geek-tantrum from you." Neville's face flushed red. "What's the rubbish about anyway?" Lucy-Jo asked, chucking the calculator back to her nerd of a brother. He nearly dropped it, after fumbling to catch it for several long moments.

"I thank you for saving my work, as I was on the verge of a scientific break through involving the connection

between human and animal genetics. But I will not tolerate snide remarks about my intellect!"

"The work sounds absolutely...boring." Neville's face fell, he had thought that his younger sister might have said

'interesting'. "And I'll say what I like to anyone, no matter how smart they are."

"No arguing you two. Mark, why don't you show Lucy-Jo to her room while I make her something to eat?" Aunt

Jessica got to her feet. Mark nodded. "Lucy-Jo, do you like bacon butties?"

"Err... if ya don't mind?" Lucy-Jo said.

"Of course not. I'll call you when it's ready." Aunt Jessica smiled warmly. Mark took Lucy-Jo upstairs. Her new

room had a bed, ready made, the floral duvet so not to Lucy-Jo's taste. The walls had been painted rose pink and white. There was a dressing table in the conrer, white with pink girly things on it. The room was so girly... Lucy-Jo wanted to vomit. Mark was watching her, a laughing gleam in his eye.

"I knew you wouldn't like it. I told them, but Aunt J insisted you'd love it."


"I could always talk to her about re-decorating it, if you want." Lucy-Jo shrugged.

"Would be nice."

"Well, when your room's as you want it, I hope you like it here." Mark smiled down at her. She seemed to be

thinking, remaining silent for a couple of minutes.

"Mark? Can you remember our parents?"

"Not really. Dad left. Mum vanished of the face of the Earth. Aunt J knows more." The smell of bacon reached

them. "Dump your stuff. You're gonna love Aunt J's bacon butties." Mark grinned at her.


"I'm telling you! She's hiding something!"

"You only want to get pay back on her, Neville. The girl's been here a week. Just let her get used to things round

here. After all, from what I've picked up on- she's had a rough time."

"But, Aunt Jessica, wouldn't it be best for us to invesigate her past?"

"Lucy-Jo doesn't want to talk about that, so leave the poor girl alone."


"Neville! Do not argue back!" Neville's face flushed, fading to the colour of his aunt's dyed red hair quickly.

Lucy-Jo came in, followed by Rebecca. Lucy-Jo was sporting a bleeding injury on her right bicep. A long gash,

and by the looks of it, quite deep. What made this wound occur had ripped the long sleeve of her black top. She nodded at her aunt and brother, smiling, as if nothing was wrong. 

"Hi you two. Aunt J, where'd you keep the first aid kit?" Aunt Jessica blinked in shock, before stammering a reply.

"In t-the cupbo-board." She pulled herself together, "Lucy-Jo, what have you been up to?"

"That's what I asked." Rebecca muttered.

"It was just a scuffle. Someone robbing an old lady. No biggie."

"How did you get that?" Neville asked, suspicison creeping into him.

"Knife. Just a scratch, I'll be fine."

"Just a scratch?! Lucy-Jo, this could be serious! I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No, it's fine. Don't. Panic." Lucy- Jo sunk into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, sitting sideways on. "Aunt J?

Where's the first aid box please?" Aunt Jessica said nothing as she retrieved the green box from the top cupboard. While she waited for her aunt to conjure up a bandage, Lucy-Jo looked around the kitchen. It was modern, silver appliances with white cupboards and dark granite work tops. The table was a simple wooden round table, a black tablecloth draped over it and a vase of white lillies in the centre. Aunt Jessica had located the bandage.

"Oh, thanks Aunt J." Lucy-Jo twisted round to the left slightly. Her aunt cleaned the wound with alcoholic wipes

before dressing it, the bandages thick. Lucy-Jo had given her torn sleeve a sharp tug and it had easily fallen away. Her aunt said that she'll sew the sleeve back on if Lucy-Jo wanted. "If you want. I'm not fussed." She grinned cheekily at her aunt, who smiled back before clearing away. Aunt Jessica made a mental note to refill the first aid box.

"If it hurts in the slightest, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"OK. Thanks again." Lucy-Jo got to her feet, nodded at Neville and left. As soon as her footsteps faded on the

wooden stairs, Neville spoke up in his pompous voice, claiming that his sister was lying.

"If she's lying about that, then I'm the Queen of England." Rebecca snapped. Neville scowled. He wanted to get

revenge on Lucy-Jo for teasing him about his work and intelligence. If that meant getting her in trouble, so be it.


"Dinner, Lucy-Jo!" Lucy-Jo darted down the stairs, jumping the last four. She'd been staying with Mark and Josh

a little over a month. The wound on her arm had healed to a scar. She bounded into the kitchen, grinning. "Do you have to thunder down the stairs?" Mark chuckled. Lucy-Jo's eyes lit up with sarcasm. "Don't even think about saying it." Mark said as Josh handed her a plate of sliced roast chicken and a mix of vegetables and Yorkshire puddings, all of it floating in gravy.

"Thanks guys. And I so do not thunder down the stairs. Plus I wasn't gonna say anything." She moved to sit at

the table, pushing back the cloth as to prevent spilling gravy. Lucy-Jo had gotten used to fending for herself whilst with the Keepers, resulting in it taking a bit longer for her to adjust to a fairly normal childhood. Mark and Josh sat at the table with her, their own dinners in front of them, the tablecloth ruffled around the vase. They talked about football and cars.

"It's so much easier talking to Lucy-Jo about this stuff than it is Neville." Josh told Mark.

"Totally. Neville only natters on about Science."

"Guys. I'm right here. Not in the garden."

"Well, duh. You radiate cheekiness which is impossible to miss." Lucy-Jo grinned before tucking into gravy

covered Yorkshire puds. "Aunt J working?" The two boys nodded.

"The others will be over later as well." Lucy-Jo nodded this time, her mouth full.









Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...