I plunged the knife down, my head turned away. I had done this so many times, but each time I killed, it felt like my first.
The adrenaline running through my veins and the voice in my head telling me it’s good, telling me it’s bad. I ignored it like I had so many times before, but what else did I have without the knife between my sweating palms?
I allowed myself a deep breath as I retracted it from his chest – my pulsing heart finally coming to a rest as I realised it was over once again for another night.
I looked down at the body, his eyes were open and white … he had died with his eyes open, seeing my face, he had died alive.
His wife was still out, but I didn’t have much time left - she would be back soon. I glanced to the window in fright, only giving myself an icy chill that was spreading down my back but it faded quickly. I guessed that it was normal, I always got them after killing - it was to be expected, but as I moved towards the window I felt the chill again. It was only autumn, not too cold. The chill this time didn't die down and instead left myself feeling restless and anxious. Someone was here, someone was watching - what else could it be?
I shook my head, denying the thought. I checked time and time again for the possibility of someone catching me. I ducked down at the window, easily slipping through it. I landed on the balcony quietly; in my opinion it was a stupid place to put a Balcony; there was no door to access it by and it was too easy for people like me – assassins – to kill those whom were wanted by the Devil himself.
My feet sought air as they rose from the solid ground beneath me as I fell multiple stories onto the back alley below. I didn’t glance back like I may have done in my earlier days – it stopped that connection to the kill, triggering guilt deep inside that I no longer had within me.
Bolting through the darkness, my black cloak billowed around my waist and tugged on my neck as the tie fought to come undone. The bloodied knife I’d just tucked away dug painfully into my waist. My arms were cramping from the force I’d used to kill the target – he’d been unexpectedly strong.
I ducked into another side alley as a carriage came hurtling past. The Police.
Everyone in London was frightened of them. They would kill you within a heartbeat and in the cruellest way possible -Whether tearing you limb from limb, to emptying your body inside out, they found a way to justify and torture you in the cruelest ways imaginable.
I sighed with relief as I heard the hooves of the horses fade away. One target down … nineteen to go. Each new target would present a new challenge. Each target would have more strength than the last and just perhaps I might have time for one more tonight...
Once I could no longer here the hoove of the horses, I crept from the shadows and went on my way. The sound ofthe hooves, still resounding in my ears.
I kept close to the wall, head lowered. I knew I wouldn't get caught; at this late hour everyone would still be playing their silly little games or even asleep while we were playing our own; murder.
More hooves came chattering down the cobbled road, alerting me just seconds before it arrived by my side. This time, I couldn't dodge it - this time there was no time to hide.
I began to go up a gradual hill as the carriage slowed it's pace as it done so too. I was so close I could feel its presence. The doors could swoop open and I'd be dragged inside - gone and forgotten.
I swallowed my fear and kept walking. I wasn't going to let anyone find out who I was, it would kill me, and it would kill them.
Because I would have to Change them.
Changing someone wasn't pleasant, you had to let your fangs evolve through your canines, forcing your mouth through absolute hell and back. I wasn't about to put myself forward for that - or at least not until I really had to.
As the carriage came on level with myself, I noticed that it wasn't the matte black of regular police carriages - it was in fact, the royal carriage. I could only thank the devil it wasn't a police carriage or that the doors to the carriage never swung open, dragging me to the only comparable mortal equivelent of hell itself. I sighed in utter relief - I'd live to see another day.
Instead, my king had sent for me. The curtain by my face rolled up to reveal the small balding man Fredrich - the only mortal gutsy enough to do our kings bidding alongside a character like myself. Of course, he never got his hands dirty - that part was my responsibility.
"Fredrich," I greeted alongside a curt nod.
His lips formed a thin line as the carriage followed me up the hill - I refused to stop until I reached the castle. "Get in, Michelle Saint Claire," he demanded, he was sneering my name.
I narrowed my eyes at him, he knew that I loathed it when he used my full name. "I did this job completely by myself, Fredrich. If we arrive back together, you'll act like you helped - which you certainly didn't!" I sneered at the man who cowered back at the unspoken threat between rivals. No human would ever compare to someone like myself.
He shook his head. "Have it your way. You know how he gets when he knows we didn't work together."
My lords affinity for this man was beyond my comprehension.
I got on my way once more moving stealthily through the dark night as the carriage drew out of sight and around a sharp bend. I'd return before him - Fredrich would have to take the roads.
No one was on the streets as I barrelled through the alleyways, out of fear for a person like me - someone worse than the shadows itself and the unknown that came with it.
The maze of building went on around me spiralling out of control and out of sight. Even I struggled to navigate all the roads in this city, but luckily not all of them needed to be covered. The main road however, was one I'd walked many before - straight up the royal footway and facing onto the sheer drop of a wall that my king resided.
The doors before me, however, were not permitted for my use. No one should know about my association with the king, and no one was going to find out.
I ran and jumped with nimble stealth, clinging firmly onto the sides of the wall and climbing feet at a time up its face until I came to the very window I had aimed for - the hallway that would lead to my kings chamber.
The Palace had a Victorian, Gothic feel to it, most likely due to the fact that our King was Changed within the Victorian Era. He still wore the clothing of the Victorian era; black top hat, white shirt, purple waistcoat decorated with a black jacket. All accompanied by black trousers and black shoes.
Vampire didn't sweat; it was a known fact, younger, newer Vampires were always concerned about it and always thought there was something wrong with them. I'll admit myself, I had thought the same myself.
The windows barley let in any light, the windows were very slim and the dust and grime on them was so thick you could barley see the London outside.
Even the larger windows had heavy, thick darkened red curtains so wherever you went, there wasn't much light. The large majority of light came from the lit candles placed every two meters from each other. It was slightly intimidating for those whom had never been within the Palace before.
Maids silently walked around, carrying empty silver trays, the outfits worn where simple and traditional: a long, black dress with long sleeves that flowed down past their hands with a clean, white pristine apron around the waist. The head-caps weren't needed and wasted space. Their pale skin easily stood out against the darkness of their outfits.
The butlers were dressed in a similar way, white shirt, black waistcoat with the black trousers and sparkling back shoes.
I didn't take my cloak off as I prowled the hallways. I tightened the bow at my neck, feeling the thick lace digging into my neck. I wanted to see what my King would think of me when I returned by myself.
My King's room was at the end of the corridor to the left. It didn't even faze me anymore about seeing him, my King knew that I would never let him down; and I didn't want to waste anymore time. Fredrich would be turning up at the Palace now while I was walking towards the door.
It was black obsidian with an elegant lion's head as a door handle. I knocked once, twice, thrice on the door, my hand was shaking, but only slightly.
"Come in." The voice that belonged to my King was as smooth as velvet, but as sharp as the knife worn at my belt. The pouch at my belt, containing the ring as a spoil felt as heavy as the World.
His jawline was what all men aimed for. But he had been perfect for so many years, it didn't faze me.
All the maids and butlers, Vampires. It was the safest way for our people, but we were running out of time.
To fake his death would take precision. The Vampire world had fallen, this was our only option, living in the Mortal World.
His eyes were as black as the night, the same colour as his hat. He rarely went outside, if you gave people just enough information to work with, then they could easily piece together the rest; and that was how we worked. And that was how we liked it.
His porcelain skin that laid ground to no imperfections. Scanning his face I saw his atypical scowl on his rose-red lips that looked nipped from the cold. Our lord was always cold, though. As my eyes wandered, I finally came to his black hair which flipped down ever so slightly over his piercing blue eyes - no mercy for your soul.
How he'd fooled so many over the years about his humanity was beyond me, because no human had ever looked so flawless. His chin was chisled square, in such a current desirable fashion most men wondering what genere pool he'd come from.
"Show me the spoil." Was all that came from his lips. His voice was seductive, but after several hundred years, it still hadn't lost it's power. It sent girls everywhere into a frenzy. Even I had to force myself to open the minute pouch at my hip, revealing the spoil, a silver ring with a deep blue sapphire in the centre. It was a worth piece, and I had been force to pry the ring from the victim's finger, everyone knew that he had never taken it off. It was a magnificent ring and as I walked forward toward my king, his hand outstretched, ready to take the ring I lowered my head as I placed the object into his smooth palm. As I removed my hand he closed his delicate fingers around the ring and slipped it on his own finger.
His smile made me freeze every single time. It was...deadly and it was hard to tell if he was pleased or if he wanted you dead. That was one of the strongest fears that I had; I didn't want to die. But instead of calling for an executioner to drag me to the cells all my King did was stand and beckoned me towards him.
And so I walked, and I kept walking, until I was less than five meters away from him and that was when he turned away and walked away from me. He walked behind his throne and to a tapestry which had been elegant long ago, it now was faded and the decoration was long gone.
As the tapestry was lifted my King opened a wooden door and began walking, the darkness covering him completely. I had no option but to follow, it was in the oath that I swore in which I slit my wrist and let the blood trickle down into the flames.
And so I kept following my King, until we both reached a single black door with a plain silver knob for a handle. My ing pressed against it and the door smoothly opened. "Michelle," he begun; "you may use this room as and when you need to. This...this will help you. This will help you dispatch those on the list."
I knew the list that he was talking about and I looked through the door. The Chess Board was in place, all the pieces gleaming in the light; the game was ready to play, we were the players and the victims the pieces.