Kailyn's World

Novadark silently cursed the client for this job. He was accustomed to being the silent killer. Sneaking in, doing whatever had been asked by the client, and then leaving as silently as he came, with or without Nebulan. But this client wanted the deaths to be known, and quickly. He wanted them to be savage. He wanted the city of Blackdoore in turmoil. Novadark reached out with his mind for the conscious minds within the Guild House. They were afraid, but doggedly determined to keep their Guild Master safe, hoping they could hold on until the local city guards came to their rescue, but not even that would be enough to save them. Not from a ventrilian.

“Can you sense the Guild Master? Nebulan asked, wiping the blood from his face. Novadark noticed how Nebulan looked at the gore on his hands as if to examine it, then wiped it on his trousers.

“Indeed, he’s on the third floor, his daughter is on the second,” Novadark replied after a moments pause.

“Well guarded?” Nebulan asked.

“Enough to keep us busy—”

“To keep you busy,” Nebulan corrected him. With that, Novadark felt his body rise as Nebulan lifted him into the air, his stomach flipped, and despite his objections, Nebulan threw him without hesitating through a window. As his body smashed through the glass into the hall, he was instantly surrounded. He felt for Nebulan’s mind. The ventrilian had just shattered the door with a single blast of energy, killing the guards directly behind it. Several more guards made towards him and then realised what Nebulan was. They paused, turned, and with pale horrified expressions, they ran. They had no wish to suffer the same deaths as their companions in the courtyard. Those that stayed to fight died very quickly.

Shaking glass from his fur, Novadark snarled, “You dick, why’d you throw me like that?”

“Distraction,” Nebulan replied bluntly, “I know you can take care of yourself so get over it.”

Nessingway smirked, still hanging behind Nebulan as if trying to avoid being seen.

Sighing deeply, Novadark followed them both up the corridor, shaking his head in disgust. Handmaids and servants scurried by, and Nebulan heartlessly cut most of them down, but others escaped into the night. When Nebulan swung round on Nessingway, Novadark froze.

“If it’s not too much of a hassle for you, could you please kill someone… this is your last job after all.” Angry, Nebulan thundered on ahead.

“Sorry,” Nessingway replied. Drawing a couple of daggers, he looked to Novadark and shrugged, adding, “Is he angry with me?”

“Well you know how he feels about humans, and you’re leaving us to marry one,” Novadark chided, his eyes flashing like gold.

Nessingway didn’t reply. He just frowned and quietly followed Novadark up the corridor.

 “Can you still sense them?” Nebulan asked.

“Yes,” Novadark replied. They had moved up a set of stairs and were on a broad landing.

“The daughter… Fayla, she’s on this level.” Novadark explained. He strode up the corridor with his companions close on his heels. Stopping outside a specific door, he swung round to Nebulan, gesturing at the door with a nod to indicate that Fayla was hiding inside. Just as Nebulan was about to smash through the door, Novadark felt the mind of Fayla’s father and snarled.

Nebulan paused, gazing back down the corridor.

Within seconds, Palatine appeared behind half a dozen guards.

 “Keep your hands off my daughter!” Palatine exclaimed.

Novadark felt the cold chill from Nubulan’s powers and felt the urge to recoil, but he was a professional and growled, revealing sharp fangs coloured with the blood of those he had recently killed.

“Deal with them!” Nebulan snapped. As Nebulan smashed through the door that separated him from Fayla, Novadark lunged for the closest guard.

​

                                                                                                  ***

 

Palatine’s guards were quickly slain, leaving Palatine alone to face the assassins. As the last guard hit the floor with a partially severed head, Novadark targeted Palatine. He leapt onto Palatine’s back, inadvertently knocking Palatine’s head against the top of the bannister. Palatine fell hard with Novadark’s weight still on his back.

“Is he dead?” Nessingway asked. He seemed disappointed.

“No, he’s alive, I can feel him breathing,” Novadark replied. He heard a gurgled scream from down the hall, then silence. Nebulan stepped out of the room he had smashed into, dragging Fayla’s mutilated body with him. He threw her against the wall, looking dark and sinister, he looked at Novadark, emitting a cold chill with his powers that left a thin sheet of sparkling ice in his wake.

“He better not be dead!” Nebulan warned, “Not yet.”

“He’s alive,” Novadark assured him, still on Palatine’s back.

“Wake him,” Nebulan ordered.

   Novadark nodded, snarling loudly in Palatine’s ear. What remained of the guards and handmaids that had been protecting Palatine’s daughter were scattered along the corridor, their bodies bloodied and twisted, large chunks of flesh ripped from their faces and torsos. Slowly, Palatine opened his eyes.

“Come on, wake up,” Nessingway said. He kicked Palatine in the leg.

With Nebulan’s powers swimming through Palatine’s body, Novadark felt the ice that coated his body gradually sinking into his claws, working its way up his paws. Cold, Novadark pressed his claws in a little deeper. Satisfied only when Palatine jolted awake in pain.

“Pick him up!” Nebulan ordered.

Novadark leapt from Palatine’s back, then stood back, watching quietly while Nessingway slipped his hands under his arms, hoisting him unceremoniously to his feet. Nebulan moved towards him, closing the gap between them, he said, “Creetus sends his regards.”

“Creetus?” Palatine repeated, his eyes wide with horror.

Novadark watched as Nebulan’s hand reached out, clasping hold of Palatine’s jaw in a firm grip. He felt his mind, and knew Palatine was well aware of what Nebulan could do. For a brief horrified moment, Novadark thought Palatine would have his jaw torn from his face. Instead, Nebulan turned Palatine’s head to the right. His eyes instantly locked on his daughter and welled with tears.

Fayla, his only child, was slumped by the wall. Both of her eyes and some of the bone around the sockets had been torn away, half her throat was missing, leaving her head sagging to one side.

“Monster!” Palatine shivered, so cold he felt his bones would break.

Laughing, Nessingway swung Palatine round, pushing him towards his dead daughter. In nothing but absolute silence, Novadark watched Palatine pull Fayla close, crying while cradling her lifeless, mutilated body in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as he rubbed his daughter’s matted hair. Novadark felt the boredom growing in Nebulan’s impatient mind, the ventrilian was ready to end it once and for all. The job was almost complete. 

“I’m getting bored… Nessingway, kill him!” Nebulan ordered, his voice was sharp. Novadark turned to look down the corridor scattered with bodies and blood.

“No, please, for mercy’s sake make it quick,” Palatine pleaded. Nessingway glanced over his shoulder to Nebulan, as if seeking approval. He waited. When there was nothing but silence, this prompted Novadark to look round. Nebulan was looking back at him, his eyes black as night.

“Do I make it quick?” Nessingway asked.

The ventrilian shook his head.

“It wouldn’t hurt, Nebulan, one quick death won’t be the end of your reputation,” Novadark said, feeling his fur bristle with irritation. He cringed his eyes shut as Palatine’s cries echoed down every corridor in the Guild House, but no one else was alive to hear it.

He was alone.

“Please, someone help me!” Palatine cried.

Nebulan snapped at Nessingway. “Get on with it! What’s wrong with you?”

Startled, Nessingway moved forward, then quickly moved back as Palatine lurched forward, spewing up bile onto the floor.

“Nessingway, you’re really pissing me off!” Nebulan snapped lividly.

“OK, OK,” Nessingway went to move forward.

“No, no, stay back.” Palatine choked back tears, thrashing his head from side to side while all Novadark could do was stand by and watch. The fact Palatine was about to die didn't faze him, but the way he was being made to suffer did. Most of his own targets met a very quick end, unless he sensed something cruel and twisted that deserved a suffering death. Palatine wasn't evil, not even in the slightest. knowing this made the job all the more difficult for him.

“Stay still,” Nessingway snapped, grabbing Palatine’s cheeks, causing his lips to pucker inadvertently. Sniggering, Nessingway said. “Look, he wants to kiss me.” He turned Palatine’s face to Novadark and his chest rattled with laughter. Novadark was less than amused by Nessingway’s antics. He glared back at him, whipping his tail back and forth angrily to show Nessingway he wasn’t finding any of his behaviour amusing.

“Sorry, nothing personal,” Nessingway said, suddenly very serious. The stern glare from Novadark had set him straight.

“Actually, it’s very personal!” Palatine sniffled back at him.

 Novadark looked on long enough to see Nessingway unsheathe a dagger, but he turned away from the man still holding his murdered daughter. He didn’t see the blade slice across Palatine’s throat, nor the blood that splattered the walls and floor from the open wound. But he felt Palatine’s last moments of life. He felt his last thoughts.

Terror.

He was afraid to die.