Assassin in the night.

I feel this one deserves a short introductory comment. I found this extremely short piece when I was looking through my old writing files.  I wrote this one as part of an assignment for my English class in yr 7.  I had completely forgotten I had written this and when I read it again I was shocked – It’s a really nice piece for an amateur,  I envy my younger self – she wrote with much more ease then my current self does.

Assassin in the night.

Genre: Short story

Audience: Anyone who enjoys fantasy.

Purpose: Assassin in the night is the prologue to my novel ‘Werewolves’ (working title) and it’s purpose is to explain why my character Rillikira is empting an urn of dust over a cliff. My overall purpose is to entertain and to send a message about the importance of tolerance and peace.

 

The forest was quiet as a mouse seeking to avoid the cat. A sombre moon hung in the cloudless night sky bathing the forest in an eerie light. A perfect night for hunting thought the young vampire as he crouched, spider like, waiting to pounce on the deer as it grazed slowly closer. Then deer seemed to sense it was in danger as it lifted it head and sniffed at the wind. Now or never he thought while leaping out of the shadows and braking the animals neck, quickly draining it of blood. Not to bad the thought came from behind him. “I was wondering when you would show up Nightwalker,” he murmured in to the shadows behind him. Then a thought stuck him. Yes that will work he thought excitedly. “Nightwalker will you and your pack share this kill with me?” He asked “after all it would be a waste to leave so much uneaten.” A large wolf moved out off the shadows and grinned a wolfish grin at him. Perhaps, Avonarian, you will not be such a bad mate for my soul-bond Rillikira she sent before lifting her muzzle to signal her pack. Avonarian smiled with satisfaction, as for a second he could have swore her saw Rillikira smiling at him out of Nightwalkers eyes. Then Avonarian bowed formerly to Nightwalker, “Farewell Nightwalker, soul-bond of my mate Rillikira.” Nightwalker flashed that wolfish grin again, this time with amusement; She is not your mate just yet Avonarian. “She shall be soon enough Nightwalker, but I must go, may the pack be skilled in the hunt.” And with those final words of farewell he leapt yet again and took flight into the dark night sky.

Avonarian flew slowly enjoying the feel of the stream of the air gently washing over his face. The night air felt fresh and crisp to him and drank it in as greedily as had the deer’s blood earlier. His heart felt full as though he could never be happier. Avonarian let out a content sigh as he landed quietly on his balcony, where he turned to gaze up at the moon whose power was at its peak. Tonight was the last night of the full moon so Rillikira would be in no danger of changing and tomorrow he would be married to the beautiful young werewolf.

So distract was he that he was taken completely by surprise when he fell forward when a wooden stake was pushed forcibly through his heart. The last thing he saw before his body crumpled into dust was a figure moving in that sure-footed way which only elves move. The figure smiled grimly in the moonlight as she opened a jar of powdered garlic. She would be taking no chances that this monster could be revived, after all she did have a reputation to uphold. Calmly she sprinkled the garlic powder through the dust. Then smiling with the knowledge of a job well done she went to collect her pay.