I wake up with a slight headache. Funny, I didn't do anything bad for my health yesterday. All I did was jog around the local shrine about...twelve times, come home to eat my yakisaba with rice, then head back outside to train. None of that seems bad to me or my parents. Of course not to my parents, they encourage me to train, since that is what they did around my age to become what they are now. My parents - Ai and Kenji Miyamoto - are both assassins. They want their family to rule as top-notch assassins, and of course, want me to have children that will follow in my footsteps. My parents find their jobs satisfying and fascinating. The thrill of getting money to kill someone runs through their blood and is now running through mine.
I hop out of my bed and walk across my room to my dresser. The sound of my bare feet smacking across the cold, wooden floor echoes throughout the house. I reach inside my dresser for a fresh pair of underwear and a bra, I then walk over to my door and come to a complete stop. My bedroom door is open which means my parents aren't here this morning. They're most likely on a mission that's important, I shrug it off and grab the towel that's hanging from the back of my door. I travel to the bathroom, preparing to take my nice, hot shower. Hopefully this will soothe my headache.
I can't stop thinking about my training from yesterday as I stand in the shower, letting the hot and relaxing water hit my skin. It's quite enjoyable when I stand here and think about it. I started off with the basics - arm and leg stretches, jogging and walking, front and backward rolls and flips. Next was the fun part; I shot at paper targets and did martial arts with Miki-Sensei. Like usual, I hit the bulls-eye. What made yesterday more exciting was that I had the chance to use my new Russian SV-98 sniper rifle that my father bought for me on my 15th birthday.
I chuckle to myself as I pour a glob of shampoo in my hand, lathering and scattering it through my dark brown hair. I wonder how "hardcore" these other girls at Nyckel will be this year, I think to myself. I need to graduate assassination academy. If I don't, my parents will find me as an embarrassment. I asked them once, that if I ever fail or don't graduate from assassination academy, would they me ashamed of me. The both of them responded with a dry "no", but I felt as if it was a lie. I won't fail my parents. Failure is not an option in the Miyamoto bloodline.
As I dry myself off with my body towel, I walk to my bedroom and plop on my bed. What am I going to do after I graduate from Nyckel? I asked myself. It's a good question that's bouncing off the walls of my mind. Would I start assassinating with my mother and father? Or go my own path and assassinate for my own money? I rise up from my bed with my forearms supporting me. My still wet-fringe covers my forehead as I sit on my bed in deep thought. I love my parents, I can't leave them and kill for my own money. We're family, if one's going to do something, everyone's going to do it.
My headache went away, good. It must've been that shower or thinking about yesterday. As I slip on my bra and underwear, I hear the floor...creaking? I stop my movements to hear if there is any other. I put my hair in a sloppy ponytail and grab my Beretta M9 and Mamba, slowly taking small steps to my bedroom door. The floor stops creaking when I approach the door. Am I being watched? Most likely. I can't let my intruder know that I have intelligence when it comes to violence. I drop my guns and head towards the kitchen. This will lure the person out.
I look around, there is no sign of common flaws made by immature intruders. I bite my bottom lip, just who the hell could be here? I hear a gun get cocked and I feel the cool steel against my back. I turn around to face the intruder. He's so typical; he's wearing a black ski mask and he has no idea how to hold a gun correctly. I smirk and lightly snicker when I get a glimpse of him; he's quite pitiful.
"Look, you half-naked bitch, give me your money and valuables or you're gonna get a bullet or two through your chest!" he announces as he pushes the gun closer and harder into my chest.
"You do know," I begin, "I'm just 15. What could I have that's so valuable?"
His look goes from serious to confused. Is he honestly that stupid? "Well...give me something!"
"Like I said, I'm only 15. What could I possibly have other than my cellphone and innocence?"
The man looks at me up and down, putting his gun down to his side. He takes a step closer to me and bumps our foreheads together. I feel as his hand touches my shoulder and begins rubbing it soothingly. I can smell his disgusting, hot garbage breath through his ski mask. It flies into my nostrils and punches me in the eyes, making them water. I suck up the tears and look deeply into the man's eyes.
"You're a lucky girl," he says. "I'm actually into that type of stuff. How about I help you lose one of the two things you have left?"
My nose wrinkles in disgust as he speaks to me. I see where this is going, sick pervert. I grab a butcher knife from behind me on the counter and grip it tightly as he continues speaking. When he closes his eyes for a second, I wrap my arms around his neck, making sure the knife doesn't touch him yet.
"So," he continues, "there's plenty of bedrooms back there. Wanna go handle some business in one of them?" I swear I feel my intestines wrap around each other tightly as he speaks to me. He is absolutely disgusting.
"How about you lose something first?" I ask him, he cocks his head with an eyebrow raised high.
"Your life," I inform him as I stab his neck. Before he can raise his gun to me, I kick it into the air, making it land on the counter behind me. I reach for it and place the head of it in his mouth, stretching it open as I hear him whine. Blood seeps out of his mouth and drips onto my bare feet. Soon a puddle of blood is beneath me but I continue to stand in it.
"Aren't you a sick bastard?" I teased him in a sing-song voice. His only reply is him choking and his blood gargling. "Dating advice 101: most girls don't settle with conversation about pedophilia. Try again."
I put him out of his misery and shoot him thrice, he falls with a thud. Two of the three bullets went through his skull and one traveled down his esophagus. I pull his gun out of his dead mouth and wipe it off with a wet cloth. I inspect the gun, apparently it's a Walther P5. Where the hell did he find such a legendary pistol like this from? Nevertheless, it's mine now. I'll just shine it later. My parents are going to be home soon, it's almost 10:45 a.m.. I put the bloody knife on the counter and take my new toy into my bedroom. Now my Beretta M9 and Mamba will have a new cousin.
I walk back to my bedroom and find...a letter sticking out from my bedroom window? I walk across my floor, leaving bloody footprints as I reach up to get my letter. It's an envelope with a red sticker on it, I try to look for the sender's address but can't find it. Whatever, I'll just rip it open without caring. As I open the envelope and take out the letter, a wide smile appears on my face.
Dear Miss Rei Miyamoto,
Nyckel Intelligence Academy for Young Minds has gladly accepted your request to be in our assassination program. You can't see us, but we can see you. We've just witnessed you murder a pedophile that broke into your domain. You're a true killer, not only by blood, but by choice. It's truly a pleasure to have you attend Nyckel.
Here at Nyckel's assassination academy, you can wear whatever outfit you choose. If you choose a skirt, it has to be fingertip-length. Here are some sample pictures from our catalogue that you can use as an example:
Also, there's a catch to graduating. We have a target attending Nyckel's assassination program, without knowing they're attending the assassination program. Another thing is that the other assassination students are also trying to silence the target. What is one thing that assassins know about eliminating their target when another is after it? Correct, you kill them along with your target. Play your role here at Nyckel and play it good. Silence the target and you graduate.
Another thing is that you'll be sharing dorms with your assigned partner from your assigned classroom. Your assigned classroom is Mr. Wells' room, room number 108. Have fun while you're at Nyckel and remember, we're always watching!
Nyckel Intelligence Acedemy for Young Minds' Principal,
I put the letter to the side and get lost in thought of the school. Silence the target and graduate, huh? Doesn't sound so difficult. I let go a snicker as I slide on my shorts and socks and pull on my shirt. Hopefully this'll be a great opportunity to bring RIA 1911 or CZ-99.