Hit 'n' run//ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

I am no criminal

It had been one of those days again. A day where a lot of blood would be spilled on. He knew it. He could smell it already. The evening had fallen, which made this day even darker than dark. Even the moon was hiding behind some clouds. No star had the nerve to show themselfs. It wouldn't surprise Jacob if it started to rain soon, eyeing at the sky.  This grim atmosphere fitted his mood. He felt grim, something that didn't happen a lot. Normally he was a good spirited man, someone who liked humour and found most of the things "fun".  This very certain thing he found out though, was far from "fun". Actually it made him mad, extremely mad. While he was out for a little trip, a few days back, he discovered that there were slave children at the market in Sundarin. Young little children, around the age of five. Maybe six. Pulled away from their mom and dads to be made money off and being sold to some rich fucks. It was obvious that children were Jacob's weak spot, even though he was childless himself. Somewhat he liked to keep it that way for a while. Why rush anyway? He would stay young forever, unless someone killed him with fire. Or found another strange way to take away his life. And although he had no death wish, he was very curious towards his own judgement day. Today wouldn't be that day. Today he was going to take the lives of those cruel monsters who had captured innocent children for their own goddamn good.
Hidden under the hood of his long coat he walked towards a dilapidated building. The deep cracks in the walls showed him that it only needed a hard breeze to collapse. Most of the windows were sealed of with dirty old cloths. Behind one them, on the ground floor, burned a light. Around three vague silhouettes moved across the room, holding stuff. Probably food and drinks. Jacob guessed there must've been atleast six men in that building, exclusive the kids. Poor little kids... He hoped they would be far into sleepyland as soon as he entered, or they would get another trauma. A worry for later, if you asked him. Keep living on the way they did now was nothing too. Rather have another trauma than end up as someone's slave.
With a hard kick he bashed into the door. Angry adrenaline pomped through his veins, being driven by... Absolutely nothing but you get the point. There was no time for being quiet and sneaky. There was no need. Jacob wanted to finish this quickely, in his most favorite way; fist fights. He wanted to feel the crushing bones beneath his hands. A sadisctic grin layed upon his lips, while he entered the lodging of these heartless monsters. For a moment there was confusion. Jacob could read it from their surprised faces. But then they seemed to understand what was going to happen. There was no rocket science needed for that, really.  Jacob's appearance made very clear what kind of man he was. Two men ran to him. One holding a chair, while the other pulled a pocket knife. Whatever their plan was, it didn't work out. The assassin had analyzed their movements, immediatly reacting to it. As if it all came natural to him. In a smooth movement he avoided the flying chair by bending over. At the same time his hidden blade around his left arm unlocked, slicing along the man's stomach. Jacob turned directly, just as smooth as before, focusing his gaze to the armed guy. He was nervous, Jacob noticed, because the knife was directed forward uncontrollably. The assassin grabbed the man's wrist, turning his arm without much efford and buried the blade straight into the man's throat. Blood sprouted out of the wound, leaving splatters onto his own face. However, there was no time to waste. The remaining four men came into action, screaming angrily. Soon three of them were silenced after being hit by Jacob's throwing knives. Oh, he had many weapons. Hidden every and anywhere beneath his clothing. Obviously those weapons were his toys and he wouldn't want to miss them in the whole world. Silently he looked at the last person standing in front of him. All of a sudden it became very quiet in the room, while their gazes locked for a while. Both men didn't move, until Jacob broke the silence. In a flash he knocked the man over, towering over him. One of his knees held the man against the ground. ,,Karma is a bitch, hmn," Jacob murmured, not trying to hide his strongly british accent. And before his victim could speak, he cut his throat without any mercy.


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