Intro or Chapter 1 to my story

The city’s cathedral bells struck midnight. It was late October and fog blanketed the city. The fog shifted revealing a man clad in black. He stood on the roof of a disused
Warehouse. His eyes glinted dangerously in the moon light, through the eyeholes in his balaclava. (THATS THE PICTURE I DREW ON THE RIGHT)

He jumped down onto a window ledge and smashed the window with a two footed kick before sliding through. He carefully opened the door hoping the ancient hinges wouldn’t creak. Yes, I’m in he thought as he stepped out onto a metal balcony below him stood dusty crates and disused forklifts. He walked down the stairs. He came to a steel door with a red light above it. He typed the code given to him into the keypad. The light turned green and the door swung open, revealing a dark narrow street.

At the end of it two guards with rifles patrolled a set of stairs into the Hotel Taurus. He moved rapidly through the shadows towards the guard like a seagull diving for fish. He stabbed the guard in the back, the other one turned around but before he could cry out in alarm a knife was stuck in his throat. He fell to his knees blood spurting from his neck. He swayed slightly to the left then fell face down on the ground. The man in black pulled the knife out of the guard’s throat and wiped it on the dead man’s trousers. He dashed up the steps, past the screaming receptionist and headed for the third floor. He slipped down a corridor passing twenty doors, ten on each side. At the end of the corridor was a door with a gold trim. He pushed the door open keeping his cool. He moved stealthily towards the sleeping form like a nightmare seeking out its victim. He raised his knife and stabbed downwards. The man in the bed gurgled and writhed in his death throe like an eel trapped in a net. Then with one final shudder his body went limp and rolled out of the bed, landing with a soft thud.

The man in black heard shouts from outside, the pounding of feet, doors being opened and closed and the loading of guns. A cold bead of sweat rolled down the man’s back. He had been discovered and he was trapped. He needed a plan and fast………….…………

He was back in the training camp tied to a wooden post, moaning in pain the lashes on his back seeping blood. Sprinting through the assault course falling face first in the mud, he was cold, wet, muddy and miserable. He remembered crying himself to sleep every night. Then the one happy memory he was sparring in the courtyard with his knives and swords. His instructor’s words echoed through his head “use your environment.”

Then it clicked. He shovced the writing desk opposite the bed against the door and grabbed a nearby chair before smashing it repeatedly at the triple glazed window until it gave way. He jumped through and fell down landing like a cat on all fours. He slipped down an alleyway down disappearing into the depths of the city like a shadow sinking back into hell.


The midnight assassin had done his job!