Pretty Assassinations, Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“What are we going to do with him?”

Pride is standing on the other side of the room. His father has locked himself in the bedroom. I’m quite shocked that Pride didn’t just up and kill his father. I’d assumed he would have torn him apart…literally. That isn’t what happened though. Pride is quiet. His father is even quieter. There is strange friction between the two. A strange history that I don’t understand.

But right now the only thing weirder than the tension between Pride and his father is the tension between Pride and me.

“Nothing. For now, …it’ll be another night or so before we have to worry about an Assassin. So we can stay the night here,” he explains.

“You trust him in there?”

“He won’t run. He knows I know him. He knows I’ll track him down. He knows he’s going to die. What he doesn’t know is how.”

There is a pause. He was keeping his father alive only to kill him. The wildness of the idea makes me feel odd, but I’ve gone this far with this man. What’s a little further now. Not like I had a choice. If I didn’t follow Pride into hell then the devil named Lust would kill me anyway.

“How many bedrooms in here?” I ask.

“Two.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be stupid. The second bedroom has enough space for both of us.”

He shuffles away silently and I’m just looking at him wondering if he knows the significance of his words. We’d be sleeping in a bedroom together. My mind flutters with the idea that this would be something great. Maybe a sign of things to come. But even in all of that optimism, I remember the thrusting truth. I had stolen his life.

Sooner or later, I was going to have to have that conversation with him.

And I knew it had to be sooner.

~

Later that night I feel the antsy side of me coming out. I’m pacing back and forth in the room. Luckily for me, Pride doesn’t seem like the quite to be easily annoyed by minuscule things. He hardly seems to notice at all. I think he looks up once and asks me, “You good?” As soon as I nod, he nods and he goes back to his quiet meditations as though accepting that whatever I was doing was some weird ‘human’ ritual that he didn’t pick up while locked away.

The night is quiet. Real Quiet. So quiet that if his father shuffled around even a little bit in the next room we heard it. He was right about his father by the way. The man didn’t need handcuffs or to be tied up. He had accepted his fate it seemed like the moment he saw his son’s face resurface.

“We should talk to him,” I state.

I finally sit on the bed. It’s the middle of the night so he knows that I don’t mean now. Still, he turns so quickly that you would think he was shocked none-the-less. The idea of speaking to this man at all was so beyond him at that moment. Pride wasn’t the kind of guy to look shocked so I take a mental note of the picture because I doubt I would ever see it again.

“Why?” Pride states, with that strange shocked once-in-a-lifetime expression.
“I was referring to strategy. You said you were going to get me away from this place. He has been communicating with Desire. Maybe we can link up with Desire and he helps us.”

“Oh.”

“You thought I was talking about a personal conversation?” I ask, “Because even though I wasn’t…I do think that you should talk to him personally.”

“Wrath…”

“Call me Ardor,” I correct him, “And I’m not forcing you. I’m just saying that this is a once in a lifetime thing. He’s going to die. You’re going to kill him. He knows it and you know it. You told me that you would kill the person who took that away from you. I know how important it is to get your revenge for what he did to you.”

“It’s my honor as an assassin. The only thing I want in this world…” he says but surprisingly stops, stares in my eyes and corrects himself, “Before I met you that is…”

It’s awkward. It’s awkward because I want to be happy. I even want to smile when he says it. I don’t though. Thoughts about what I stole from him rise up in my head and I think I deserve to be happy at this moment. His father tortured him and it should have been me. We were switched at birth. How cruel could someone really get to switch a baby? Tom had sunk to an entirely new low. Or was it Willful Ignorance who was to blame to agree to use her body and blood as Tom’s elite assassin factory maker?

“Go talk to him now as a matter of fact,” I change the topic before getting too comfortable, “The hell with it right. Isn’t like he has a lot of time.”

“You’re right,” he shrugs, not wanting to put up much of a fight about it anymore.

Some time passes. Long enough to know that something important was discussed but not long enough to think that Pride would change his mind about whether or not he would kill his dad. He walks in the room and I pretend to be asleep long enough to hear his shirt coming off. At that point I can’t help it anymore. I turn and look, trying to get a peak of that sexy body of his. It was worth it. At this point his pants are off and he’s in nothing but his underwear.

I feel like an idiot but I was wearing mostly all my clothes. I had no idea he felt like we were close enough to sleep in our underwear.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he tells me.

“You didn’t,” I respond, “To be honest I was nervous. More like worried…about you.”

“It’s OK,” he states, “I wasn’t going to do it, but I’m glad you convinced me. I’m not this big emotional person or at least I haven’t learned to show it the way that you would. But this is big for me. This is the biggest thing that anyone has ever done and I’m grateful.”

I smile, “I think I like your way of showing gratitude than the annoying way normal people do it.”

He sighs as though relieved. It makes me think he was wondering for quite some time how best to express gratitude for me convincing him to talk to his dad.

“You mean a lot to me…” he states.

Awkward again. Same awkward as before. Was it me or was he really trying to woo me? Like old school wooing me. It’s cute in a way because other people would have been turned off by my resistance but not him. He is so socially awkward that he just trying. Every other sentence he shows interest like a boy learning to date for the very first time.

I can’t help but smile a little more this time. He notices and smiles back.

It isn’t going to stop me from changing the subject though.

“So what did you and your father talk about?”

The interest on his face drops almost immediately. It’s like he reverts back into his original self or something. He shrugs, thoughtlessly and sits on the bed.

“Where he wanted to die. We agreed on a place. It’s perfect. We just need to get him there. I’ll rent a car tomorrow.”

Shit.

“Pride you know that’s not what I meant when I said to talk to him right,” I state, “I meant to seek some sort of understanding for your own life.”

“I don’t need to understand him. Especially now that I know what I know. It’s not like he’s my real father…”

It’s awkward. Really awkward.

I stare at the bed. My chest sinks. I feel like shit all of a sudden. This is the best time to apologize. I had to do it. I had to talk about that fact that somehow I was the child of this lunatic and we were switched at birth. I got his beautiful kind parents and he got my SICKO fucking father.

“I’m sor—”

“Not now,” he states, “Too heavy for now. Another time. Let’s rest. We need to leave early before we get tracked by the others. You mind if I sleep naked?”

Shit. Again.

“No, do your thing.”

I should have said no, but if I said no, he would know that I was bothered by him. I want to give in, but I keep thinking about this stupid switched-at-birth thing. I felt guilty. I mean it just happened. I needed time to figure all of this out. Pride clearly seemed to be bothered by it all but also made it clear it didn’t stop him from wanting me. What I didn’t know was how he wanted me. Was this some carnal lust of wanting sex and exploring something he’d never done before. Or was it more?

A few seconds later he’s naked. My eyes are closed. He looks at the back of my head. I can feel it. A carnal desire almost vaporizes from his pores. He hears the underwear plop on the bed. I notice he still hasn’t gotten on the bed. He is waiting for something. He’s waiting for me to stop pretending to be asleep again.

This time I don’t.

I can tell he’s irritated when his breathing gets hard.

“Ardor, can you turn on the light for a minute?” he asks.

It’s a very amateur approach.

“Why?”

He stammers. He hasn’t thought that far. Again. Amateur approach. Still, I want to give him an A for the effort so I quickly respond with, “Nevermind I’ll just do it…”

I turn the lights on and look at him. He is flexing. I can tell and I have to admit he is sexy in a way that I’ve never seen sexy on a human being before. He’d shaved and I had no idea when he’d had the time to do that. It makes me think that he may not have been talking to his father for as long as I thought he was. He groomed himself rather well for a man who didn’t have many social skills or common knowledge.

“What’s up,” he states.

Amateur. That’s not what you’re supposed to say. None-the-less, I smile. Now he was just getting more cute than sexy. But I think that’s overall a good thing.

“Are you trying to flirt with me, Pride?” he asks.

He releases with this deep sigh as though letting a heavy burden off. I believe he’s done it again in this conversation. And I’m starting to realize I’m spending so much time with him that I’m picking up on his little habits. For some reason, I find that releasing shrug he does to be rather endearing too. I was really starting to appreciate everything about him.

“Is it working?” he asks.

“No. You’re awful.”

He isn’t embarrassed. I don’t think it occurs to him in this situation to be embarrassed.

“How should I do it then?”

“How would you do it.”

“The way you want me to do it.”

“Well, I want you to do it how you want to do it so you have to figure out how you want to do it…” I state.

We pause for a moment and then we both break out in laughter. It’s weird laughing with him. It’s weird seeing him become this human figure. He is slapping my leg and scooting closer to me on the bed. I know most of the laughter is exaggerated because he is still flirting super hard, but it’s still a human thing really.

“OK, if I were to flirt my way,” he states, “It would just be a look. A stare maybe. And that’s all it takes. And we would just rip each other’s clothes off and you know like fuck. I really want to like really fuck you.”

“Is that what you want? Sex?”

“No. Not just that. I’d be the only one you’d have sex with. I’d protect you. I’d kill for you. I’d kill anyone for you.”

“That’s a big thing to kill for me, huh?” I smile sort of blushing in a way.

“Yes, it is,” he states, “For free at least. Not like Tom, forcing us. I’d never cared about anything but killing. How to kill. Never thought about anything outside of that. I was designed that way. And then I met you and you opened up this whole world to me.”

“You don’t need me to live that life, you know? You don’t need me to escape Tom.”

He pauses thinking for a second.

“No, but I prefer you until I die.”

He says it as though final. As though he’s sure for no reason in the world he would ever change his mind. I wonder if he really understands what he’s saying.

“I think what you’re saying is that you want to be in a relationship with me,” I state smirking, “That usually isn’t how this happens but I guess I’m open to it. Not like you aren’t the biggest crush I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Relationship. Fine. Sometimes half the stuff that comes out of your mouth goes completely over my head but I hope me simplifying it has made us more clear on where we were.”

I nod, “Very clear sir.”

He does his adorable release thing, “Great. That was tedious. You people talk so much. So can we begin?”

I smile and that’s when it happens. The stare. And just because it wasn’t planned didn’t mean a damn thing. There is this creature staring across the room from me and he’s stalking me. Not because he wants to kill me. It’s the mating season and he’s chosen his partner. Not just for sex. Some animals mate with their partner for life. He was one of them.

He’d protect me.

He’d kill for me.

And that was the greatest honor a killer can give you.

That’s when he comes a0 me yelling out, “You’re mine…”

It sounds crazy. The idea of this wild man rushing towards me. it was crazier than anything it could ever sound like. A wild crazed man coming at you, ripping your clothes and throwing you on the bed. By the time I look up at him, I feel like a piece of meat. There are no soothing kisses. There is no sense of ease. He wants to FUCK me, in the way that he does so almost immediately he turns me around.

My ass is up in the air. At this point, he grasps the little bit of skin I have on there and shoves his tongue in between the cheeks. I don’t think he does it to please me. I don’t think it occurs to Pride that he needs to please me. Regardless he’s licking me for the purpose of lubricating me. Instead of soft wet kisses when having your ass eaten, he’s lathering in loads of saliva with every lick. He plays with the sticky spit a few times making sure that it’s nice and wet.

“Creamy,” he states as though confirming the consistency of his spit mixed with my anus secretions which are now oozing down his fingers.

He takes those same cream fingers of his and presses them up against my mouth when he manipulates me into a doggy style position. He thrusts forward multiple times dicking me down over and over. He’s grasping me by my hips as he does this. I feel the smell of my own spunk on my fingers as he pulls me up forcing an arch into my back.

This is all about him in his own eyes but he has no idea he’s driving my entire body wild. He keeps going and by the time we are in our 8th position I’m ready to nut.

“I’m ready to go,” I plead.

“No.”

“I can’t hold it anymore. I need to cum.”

“No. If you cum you won’t be able to take it.”

“I could try.”

“It won’t be the same for me if you cum.”

He slaps my hand away again. For a moment I’m offended like who the fuck does he think he is? But after a few more thrusts of that huge dick, I realize the idea of being pushed to the limit like this is a blessing. This man is literally making me almost cum on myself without even touching my dick. In those moments I have an out of body experience. One that I would have never had if I came.

And finally, in the 3rd hour of pounding me, he grunts and heartily says, “It’s cumming.”

“Where do you want it?”

I’m trying to act freaky as though a few seconds ago I wasn’t dead tired feeling like I was going to pass out if Pride kept going. I want him to enjoy this time with me badly.

“In your ass,” he grunts releasing by thrusting fully into me, “I want to claim this.”

He meant it in the most legitimate way possible and I can tell as he claims it, thrusting so far deep into me that he was sure that no man’s dick would ever be able to explore those areas. He wanted to make sure that he left his mark on me. He wanted to make sure that he set himself apart.

And he succeeded.

Afterward, dripping from my thighs but being held in a headlock because he refused to let me go, I turn to him.

“You want me Pride? As in to be in a relationship.”

He nods, “Till death. Yes.”

He’s always so heavy with his words. I smile none-the-less.

“Well I agreed to work on that, but we are going to have to agree to work on our sex at some point,” I admit.

“You didn’t like it?

I pause. I want to put it in a way that he would understand.

“I did. However. Sometimes it’s necessary to consider the other’s pleasure when you’re having sex.”

“Damn…I…”

The fact that he seemed surprised by my reaction was cute enough. I just put my hand on his finger and smile. I liked this guy. I really did.

And I know he likes me back when he puts his finger up to his lips.

~

“Don’t move…”

The voice is deep like milk chocolate. Hearing his voice in the morning was the most soothing thing. I think he’s joking as I open my eyes and see him laying beside me staring off in the distance. I open my hands to him.

“Huh?”

“Don’t…”

I move. Just at that moment, I feel a bullet graze my shoulder. The fierce pain shoots through my arm. It’s very clear that the person was giving me a warning shot. I fall to the ground at that moment. A few seconds later I see that Greed is standing there.

Greed has on this femme fatale outfit. The whole red trenchcoat, expensive glasses and high heels going on as though she learned how to be an assassin from some romance novel.

“How original,” I roll my eyes.

“I never liked you,” she states.

“How’d you find us?”

She circles around me. I’m thinking Greed is pissed about the false idea that I poisoned her when Sloth set me up. But thinking about it now, I strongly doubt that Greed really was pissed about that. Now she didn’t even seem pissed.

“I got someone to help me.”

Weird thing to say.

“Where is his father Greed?” I ask, “If you know what I know I pray you didn’t kill him. I know Pride. The horrible things Pride would do to anyone who took the honor of killing his father away from him is frightening.”

I’m trying to scare her, but she’s uninterested. Knowing Greed, she was too cool to be scared. So she just shrugs and says, “Who says I’m here for him?”

“Where is he?” I ask again, more forcefully.

“I let him go. He’s walking around somewhere. Didn’t seem in that much of a rush. Probably knows you’re going to track him down. If I had to guess he’s going to get a beer before he dies.”

I look over at Pride. The look in his eyes proved it. He was debating. He was struggling with it. Should he go get his father or should he stay here with me in case Greed got crazy? He must have really cared about me.

“Go,” I tell Pride.

He looks at me, “I’ll be back as soon as I find him. Stay alive until then. You’re stronger than you think. I’m wouldn’t leave if I didn’t truly believe you’re more powerful than you think.”

“Go,” I state, “You don’t have to explain.

He stops, seeming to think about it again, seeming to reconsider but then decides to run out of the door as fast as he can. Faster than he would ever move for any reason in the world actually. I’ve never seen someone run that fast in my life. He wanted to get back to me. He wanted to secure his father and get back to me as quick as possible.

I put on a brave face but the moment he leaves the room I break down. I’m talking about heavy tears running down my face.

It feels like I’m walking into my death.

He’d left me with a monster.

“Sucks,” she states, with a smile.

She’s way too happy. As though someone had just cut her a deal.

“When you said that you weren’t here for Pride’s father like Tom said, then that means you were here to kill me right.”

I turn back towards her. A gun is pulled out of her trenchcoat. Her eyes catch a reflection of the light and they almost look like straight up cat eyes.

“Bingo,” Is her reply, “Someone really wants you, dead darling.”

“Who?”

“Defeat me and I’ll tell you.”

Well, that wasn’t happening and I doubt she was the type to be convinced so I just sigh a little bit.

“Why not just kill the old man?” I ask, “You please Tom and you can use his reward to choose that I will be the one killed. Not that I want you to.”

“I’m not stupid. I kill the old man and beast boy will go absolutely bonkers on me. I don’t want to be ripped to shreds today, thank you very much.”

“What do you think he’ll do to you if you hurt me?”

“You two not that close.”

“He says I’m his,” I state, “He says he wants to die with me. I’m not a liar. You know it’s true. So why not just. Do you know? Let me go.”

“You make a good point. He will probably be pissed if I kill you, huh?” she states, “Dammit. I’ll  take that chance. Made a deal.”

Must have been a big deal to ignore the wrath of Pride. Maybe more like a big dealer. Whoever it was definitely got Greed sure of her decision.

“That serious?”

“Yeah. And what’s unfortunate in this situation is that I can’t use a gun.”

“Someone has something to prove…”

“Yes. So you prepared to die?”

“Not really does next Tuesday work?” I ask.

She shakes her head, “Unfortunately the most I’d be willing to give you is maybe 2 minutes. You can use the bathroom, cry or beg if that would make you feel better about meeting your maker.”

I smile at this point, my eyes tearing up but really wanting to laugh at the circumstance I found myself in. So this was going to be the way that I died? Some two-bit assassin with high heel pumps was going to do me in because someone wanted me dead.

“No point of the 2 minutes, unless I can convince you.”

“You can’t.”

“Ok yeah then carry on.”

She comes to me. At first, all I see is hair and a whip of red from her jacket. She was being quite dramatic with it. She wanted to make a statement. You would think she was in an action movie. Her red cape whips aside and reveals a long, pretty blade that she has concealed this entire time. She’s smooth as though she was the great descendant of some badass female ninja who went around Ancient Japan cutting dicks off.

And I’m so prepared to die that I don’t even think about dodging it at first. But then I think about Pride. I think about Pride and him telling me that I was special.

And I liked Pride…a lot.

What if he was right?

But I’m not sure how until I see something that I’ve seen a million times. I’ve paid attention to Greed. She attacks with her left foot all the time to try to trick people into thinking she was left-handed. She was quick at lightning with this attack. Usually, there was some distraction and a concealed weapon. Why really all it would take to avoid that would be moving slightly into the left and giving her a slight little push. Why hadn’t I ever thought about that?

Why hasn’t everyone? I’d seen man after man falls for the attack including Gluttony during training who managed to get his entire arm sliced. He had to get stitches and was pissed at her.

So I do it.

And surprisingly, it works.

“What the—-”

She stumbles backward unsure of what just happened. The confident face that she had a few seconds ago and all but disintegrated.

“Black Widow’s bite,” I state, “I saw you reading some Japanese scripts one day. I should have known back then that you were reading the works of An Yu. An Yu was a female assassin who trained her daughter. I’d read about her in my books.”

“No time for talking.”

She attacks me again. This time quicker. Lightning fast on her feet, but heavy distractions. Whether it be the loud colors of her clothes, the look of her breasts, the fullness of her lips or even her wild hair now completely out of a bun it’s clear that distraction was the key to An Yu. That was the secret. Why hadn’t I noticed that so long ago?

I dodge every attack. You don’t have to be fast to counter An Yu. You just had to be smart. Don’t get distracted. Focus. My hands move through her attacks. I find an opening. Just a little force will do.

She cracks, falling to the ground.

I continue my story, “An Yu trained girl after girl but always her bloodline. They were called the Black Widow Lineage. You are of that lineage, aren’t you? That’s why Tom chose you.”

She was special.

Very special.

Greed gets up off the ground, “I don’t understand how this is happening. I don’t understand how you know I am a Black Widow. How do you know how to stop my attacks.”

She’s confused. More than that I think. I’m really calm surprisingly.

“It’s simple. What I don’t understand is why this person would send you. The person had to know you were a Black Widow. But then I remember the story of the Black Widow. Something happened. In the last generation. In the scrolls…it says that one Black Widow decided to teach a young woman her arts.”

“She was murdered for betraying the secret code of my order,” she states.

She was basically confirming I was right. She was part of the Black Widow order. It had to be a very powerful woman to convince a member of an order to betray her order and release fighting techniques. Ninja clans all through history held very tight to their secrets.

“But not the person she told. The beneficiary of this betrayal is still alive. Right?”

“I don’t know who that is. I don’t understand what that has anything to do with me being here right now. I was kidnapped and brought here.”

“You were chosen,” I state, “By Tom and through Tom most likely by the very same girl that hired you to come to kill me.”

“What are you saying.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The little girl who knows the secrets of the Black Widow Order knew you were always an enemy to her. She grew up and she fell in love with a man named Tom. She then decides to have a child she named Desire who she thought was going to be an heir. Reluctantly she had another son…me. But when she found out that I just Tom’s weapon, she had me swapped at birth so that she can secure the legacy and greatness of her son Desire.”

“You’re saying…” she states…”Oh my god…Oh my god no…”

She comes to me again. One last time. I grab her without looking, throw her over my shoulders with one hand and snap her arm back so hard that I hear crackling noise and she squirms in pain.

“That woman hired you to kill me. She figured either you can prove that I am not the weapon Tom thinks I am or she’d finally be rid of the last Black Widow who could discover who she was at any moment. What is that woman’s name?”

“Willful Ignorance.”

With that, I hit Greed again. I hit her hard in her face and she passes out. I don’t blame her. She’d nothing more than a tool for bigger players. My mother wanted me dead. That was clear now. All that mattered to her was making sure that Desire was the most powerful assassin in the world. Maybe even the mixture of Desire and Urge. It’s not like the two of them didn’t work hand in hand with one another. They were powerful. The most powerful assassin, though? Perhaps he was…until now.

Until me.

She knows now. I probably am the weapon that Tom thinks I am. I am a bloodborne. It’s time that Willful Ignorance learned that as well.

it’s time that she knew that her beloved son Desire who she plotted for all these years wasn’t the greatness of her bloodline.

I was.

And I was planning on spelling that out for her in blood.