She stealthily climbed up the stairs, silent as the night, deadly as a warrior, and prepared for a fight. The child’s room was unprotected. Slowing opening the door with almost no sound, she crepted up the the crib, huddled in a poised position, she prepared to attack… what she saw was unexpected.
The child stared at her face, curious newborn eyes scanning her, and she stepped back. She cannot will herself to bring the knife down, so she left. The child’s right ear was missing, she recalled. That was scaring, and disturbing. Whatever happened to her?
It was unlike an professtional assasine like herself to have mercy. She wanted to go back into the room. Kill her, she urged herself. If she left without acheiving what she was there for, her boss would be rather angry, plus he was a nutcase, so she often did not understand what his plans were. Him or her, she did not know. She never met her boss. But still, why murder her? She went back, again closing the door slowing without a sound this time, ran out the door, looked at the house, this house, one last time, then knew, from her insticts, that later on in the future she’ll regret it.
That child was Relda Kangami.
So this is my story, called 'The Unravelers'. I originally posted this onto my blog, but only five people read it. Critique this, please? Need some suggestions, or click the link in my signature...to read more. I'm getting Writer's block, and currently waiting impatiently for the next ten days until Mark of Athena arrives...