Shackles are placed around the wrists of those who's hands have committed countless sins, and each blood spilt from a wound from the knife you bare, will tighten these chains. However, they do not have to be visible always to the human eye, but they are still there.
Each life you take.
Each last breath they take.
It will leave a scar your mind, forever. It will be the invisible weight on your shoulders that you can never compress, but that is the consequence of choosing the path of an assassin. After many years of practice, it becomes a part of you, and as you yearn for the crossroad leading you to a normal life, it never comes. The satisfaction from each soul you collect is just too much, the freedom that we desperately try to reach for is just too perfect for us to hold in our dirty and calloused hands.
It refuses to let us get a taste of what it's like to be normal because once you have decided to commit to the life of an assassin, you are aware of what will you become, a weapon.
---
Chapter 1 - The Warmest Welcome You Can Give
I stare at my wrists, swallowing hard. I had been imprisoned in these chains for months, so much so I had grown used to the feeling of metal bars tightened around my bare skin. In the past, when I had been captured years ago by other kingdoms, prisoners would be treated with much punishments, chains wrapped around the ankles and stomach. You could say that I could easily have plenty of experience with being imprisoned, and most importantly, escaping.
The thought of escaping made me chuckle slightly, but the cuts covering my arms and legs began to sting more than they usually would made me wince, the dried crimson liquid stained my skin like red paint across a blank canvas. I already knew, I had been sitting in my cell for months, thinking about various things.
Today was different, very different.
I was walking down the longest hallway you could possibly imagine, the oddest thing about it was, there were no windows. On the wall were candles, flickering by rhythmic each step that I took.
I wasn't alone however, there were a few people guiding me towards the large doors at the end of the corridor. I examined their clothing, it was a uniform, very old fashioned. There was a common theme of capes that all the guards wore, and I honestly, never saw the point in it.
Many of them seemed hesitant to even steal a look at me.. I wasn't complaining though. However, one brave soul decided to do so, their gaze was burning on the centre of my back, and I looked over my shoulder, eyes narrowed, it was the guard holding the chain connected to my hand cuffs. The man glared back at me and I flashed a bitter look, which gave him a fair warning. He shortly retreated his curious gaze back to his feet. It hadn't silenced him though, as I felt him tug slightly on my shackles. The chrome scraped my ripped skin, but I didn't falter. I had grown to appreciate the pain over the years of my training with the master, it began to be, somewhat comforting. I looked once more at the man, flashing him a smirk.
My mind wandered, for it was all I could do in this boring situation, and I absolutely loathed being bored. I remembered a not exactly pleasant thought, the grey cape I had obtained from one of my recent battles had been stripped from me, as soon as I arrived and I was dearly wishing to get it back. I had wondered what happened to my weapons too. My katanas especially, which you could say are most definitely my only true love. Engraved on each of them was my name, 'Blood Scythe', and that was why it was only right for me to miss them so much, they had been specially crafted for me, by a blacksmith who had asked that in exchange he wanted me to wipe out a guild which were "getting on his nerves".
I had gladly agreed and completed the task easily for him.
The man with the chain made a sudden jog in his footsteps, pulling me harshly to the right. A sharp pain stung my wrists once more and I nearly winced, but refused to be put in any sort of agony. I looked around and began to recognise my surroundings, I didn't know where from, but somehow I still did. Gold chandeliers hung majestically from the ceilings, contrasting perfectly with the marble walls. I saw two maids shuffling past quickly, smiles wiped on their faces as they glanced at me.
Once we walked past them, I could have sworn I heard them giggle slightly.
We approached two wooden doors, which without hesitation were opened by the guards protecting it.
Once the doors creaked open it revealed an absolutely beautiful room. Sunlight spilt into the room, and danced along the marble floors, blinding my eyesight for a second. I admired its beauty for a couple of seconds, lost in its gorgeousness.
"Forward." One of the guards finally spoke, and we walked further into the room. I was sat on chair, on the other side being another in which another person sat. He had his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his head resting in the palm of his hand. It was the warmest welcome I could have got, seeing his despicable eyes once more.
The familiar smirk.
The familiar chuckle.
It was, of course, no one but him.
Izana Wistalia, The First Prince of Clarines.
YOU ARE READING
Kiss of Vengeance | 復讐のキス
Fanfiction[Obi x Reader] Set in the Snow White with the Red Hair / Akagami No Shirayuki-hime universe. ❝ At the age of ten, she was given a new identity by the people that took her in to protect a history she does not want to remember. She trained for six yea...
