UNTITLED :AN EXPERIMENT IN FICTION

The shadow moved into the moonlight and the guard gasped in shock. Two pistols leaped into his hands and spat lead at the shadow but he was not fast enough. The shadow wove through the space between both of them like the wind, the moon trying hard to track it's movement. Suddenly the guns stopped barking in the night and the last shell landed on the concrete floor ping!
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_{pixabay: Michaelwuensch}

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The guard staggered back then his hands dropped to his sides, losing grip on the guns. His eyes were wide with horror and pain. As the guns fell from his hands, he raised his hands and touched his chest. He staggered again and grunted. He tried to speak but blood pooled out of his lips then he fell.

The shadow cleaned the black sword on the dead guard's shirt and moved again. Soon the space was except until a cat crept out leisurely, paused before the dead man and began to wash it's fur.

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The boy leapt from his seat on hearing gunshots in the night. He dove to the ground and placed his hands over his head. Sweat beaded his lips and his eyes were wide with fright.

The door banged open and two men rushed in, brandishing two cut off shotguns.

"Who has come for you boy? Whoever they are, we will kill you before they get to you." One of the men said, seizing the boy's collar and jerking him up.

The boy mumbled in terror, his body shaking as the men led him out of the room. They entered a bigger room filled with men, all carrying guns and machetes. At a table sat Chief. He seemed undisturbed by the murmuring voices about him as he sipped a cup of tea. He raised his head and looked at him.

"it would seem I underestimated your family's tenacity and stupidity. They sent an assassin after you instead of simply paying the ransom. If they can afford an assassin then they can pay the ransom ten times over. Why not pay it and move on? Now your death will be on their heads." The Chief said.

The boy cringed with each word that came out of the man's mouth. Then he jumped in shock as a scream filled the air. The room suddenly filled with guns cocking.

The boy studied the men and he saw determination and fear battling in their eyes. He started muttering his prayers but one of the men heard him and gave him a slap. He stumbled backwards and fell against the wall. As he slid down, the man that had slapped him jerked backwards towards and slumped to the ground, an arrow jutting from his throat.

All the men started firing into the darkness of the rafters and bullets rained on the floor like small stones in a dust storm. The boy folded his body into a fetal position, making himself as small as possible.

The Chief's voice soon rose above the din and the men slowly eased the pressure on the trigger of their guns. The silence was eerie after the noise. The men's eyes roved around, trying to pierce into the gloom above.

"You will not win here. We have enough guns and bullets for us to shooting at you for weeks. If you came for the boy, I suggest you come down as a gentleman and negotiate for his release. We are not murderers. Don't make us start by killing this innocent boy. Bring him here." Chief said and one of the men dragged the boy from his position to the table before the Chief.

The boy was shaking , his eyes moving about from one place to the other. His body jerked to every little sound. Suddenly a shadow separated from the steel grid that held the roof and twisted into a ball. The men began to shoot again. The ball unfurled and hit the wall then twisted and soon men were falling, arrows quivering from their throats.

Soon the shadow was among the men and the butchering intensified. Their guns were not good enough as the black sword flashed again and again and the gurgle of bleeding throat filled the air.

The boy covered his ears and tried to hide but the Chief stood behind him, a pistol pressed to his neck. He had urinated on himself already and he was too scared to be ashamed.

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The last man fell with a thud to the floor and the shadow stepped forward. The figure was dressed from head to toe in black and a black ski mask covered it's face. It stood still leaning on it's black sword. A trickle of blood gathered about the hands that it held to its side. A bullet had gone into the figure's body but besides the leaning and the leaking blood, it gave no sign that it was injured.

Chief smiled.

"You are very good. I have not seen such skill in a long long while. It reminds me of a legend. Ha, good old days of cleaning fighting. When warriors had honour and defended it with their life. Well this is the modern world, my friend and in this world, your skill means nothing. He who holds the gun, makes the law. Drop that sword." he said.

The figure gave no sign that it had heard. Chief pressed the gun hard on the boy's head and squeezed the trigger gently. The figure let the sword fall to the ground immediately. The beginning of a smile widened Chief's lips even as a knife pierced his forehead.

His gun hand jerked backwards and spasm, making the trigger finger squeeze and bullets wiped out of the pistol close enough the boy's ears. The boy fainted right away and fell but the figure was there, catching him before he hit the ground.

Some minutes later the boy opened his eyes and stared in shock at the face staring at him

"mama, it is you." he said.

His mother smiled and nodded. She signed with her hands,

"You know I promised to never let you endure pain. I am sorry I was late. I got out of the river late." the sign said.

The boy nodded and hugged his mother, taking in all the fishy smell that always followed her about. She sold fish in the river market. But she was also the last assassin of the Old Kingdom. He hugged her closely.

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THE END

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©warpedpoetic, 2018.