Anya stared in shock at the young girl. River, an assassin. A girl Anya’s age. Sent out to kill her, the princess, only to defy orders because the princess was her twin sister. The only thing she could whisper was: “How?” “I don’t know.” River looked down. “All I know is that I was raised my whole life by the society of spies and assassins for the other side of the war. I only learned of my parents a few weeks ago. I only know we were separated when we were very young, perhaps two. I don’t know why or if the king is even our father or of the late queen was our mother. I don’t know if the two people who raised me are our parents.” “So what now?” Anya asked. “You say you are not going to kill me, but that will ultimately kill you. The spies and assassins you worked for will turn on you once they recognize your betrayal.” River stared back at her with those chilling blue eyes, so unlike Anya’s brown ones. “I am not about to kill the only family I know I have.” “I refuse to let you risk your life for me!” Anya whispered loudly. River shot a look at the door. “Keep it down, will you? Listen, tomorrow morning tell the king you were attacked by the assassin in the dead of night. Tell them you fought them off, stealing their dagger and killing them one-on-one.” She drizzled something over then tossed Anya the dagger she’d been sharpening. It was now tipped with a dark red substance. “A mixture of corn syrup and red food colouring,” explained River. “Take it. Tell them you shoved the body out the window and it fell from the cliffs into the water of the river beneath your room’s window.” Rider pulled out another vial of the liquid on the blade and dripped it around, creating what looked like a veritable battle scene. She shot another look at Anya. “I’ll come back tomorrow. That is, if you want me to come.” “But—But—why convince the king and the guards and everyone that you’re dead? And where are you going? Of course I want you to come back, but why leave now? Why do you want to come back?” “That’s a lot of questions,” grinned River. “About me looking to be dead? Well, if you think about it, the king will get more and more anxious about the assassin lurking in his castle. Everyone important, including you, will be practically surrounded by guards all the time. So, if I appear dead, he relaxes a bit, enough so that I can start seeing you again every night without having to be cautious about the guards. “As for question two, I’m not sure where I’ll go. Probably I’ll head into the town not far from here and snatch some food. I can’t be stealing from the castle when I’m dead, can I? For question three, it’s almost dawn and your maid will be coming in soon. I can’t let her catch me. Finally, question four… well, you’re my sister. I want to get to know you better.” She smirked at Anya before slipping out the window. “I’m sure we can get to know each other before we start driving us crazy.” Then she was gone. Anya ran over to her window and peered out. River was rapidly climbing down the steep walls of the castle. Anya settled back in her bed and smiled to herself. A twin sister in the form of an assassin… she wondered what on earth was to come next.

Anya yawned and stretched. Another day in the middle of a war, another boring day as the princess. She swung her legs out of her huge canopy bed. A maid rushed over to tend to her needs. “Do you wish for anything?” “Yes. A glass of water, if you please.” As the maid rushed off to grab the water, leaving Anya to get dressed, Anya hopped out of bed and wandered over to her closet door. Opening it, she pulled out a dress that was not as frilly as the others. She pulled it on and walked over to her vanity, brushing her hair and applying lipstick. The maid came back. “Here you are, princess. And your father has asked that you wear your new dress.” “Ugh.” Anya went back to her closet and grabbed her least favorite dress, a new pink one her father has bought for her. It was eyeball catching, with purple highlights and white lace, poofy sleeves, ruffles and a corset. She despised it. “Why must I wear this?” She complained after coming out of the closet, all dressed. “Your father is holding a convention of lords and ladies to speak about the war effort.” The maid pursed her lips. It was not right to speak against the king, or the princess, or question their orders, so Anya couldn’t tell which side the maid was on— her side, or her fathers side. But there would be no arguing with her father, especially today. Even if she was going to be forced to sit through a long, boring convention in a tight, itchy and heavy dress. She couldn’t afford to take his attention off the war, even if it was rather tedious. And so, that was how a few hours later she found herself sitting at the officially most boring meeting ever held and in the most uncomfortable dress ever created. The leaders of the towns and cities of her father’s domain were huddled over a map and talking. The map was of the battle zones, and they were talking about war stragtegies. “But maybe we can push him back here, a sneak attack here,” suggested the town leader of Folhelm. “No, no. They would spot us. See here? There’s another camp here,” countered the leader of Gangeo. “I guess. But what about here?” Anya sighed and tried not to slump. When would this be over? “Sir! Sir!” A solider dashed into the room. “Your majesty!” “Yes?” The king looked up. “Devan? What are you doing in here? You are on watch duty.” “We captured an intruder, sir. An assassin. She won’t say anything but she sure is an assassin.” “Silence,” said the king, quieting the murmurs that swept the room. He turned back to Devan. “Bring them in.” “Very well.” Devan opened the door and two guards trooped in, holding a small, hooded figure in between them. The guards threw back the hood to reveal a young face with shockingly blue eyes, wide in fear. The king sat forward. “What is this?” He asked. “You said there was an assassin. That child is an innocent civilian, I would bet anything.” Anya nodded. The girl, who looked about her age, was clearly not in the murdering business. “It’s true, your majesty,” said the girl in a small and scared voice. “I have no intention of murder.” “It’s settled. Show her to the interrogation rooms if she has something to tell me, or the door if she does not.” The king raised his hand to be dismissed, but— “Sir, wait.” It was Devan. “We found something on her that you might like to see.” The king leaned back. “Yes? Show away.” “It was this. Hidden in her boot.” The solider pulled a knife out of the girl’s boot. It was glitteringly sharp and the tip was dipped in what looked to be black ink. “This is a very sharp blade, sir,” the solider went on. “And very dangerous, too. The end is coated in a deadly poison. This is not the blade of a child passed on by her mother in a wish to defend herself. This here is the work of a deadly predator.” All was silent. Everyone looked in shock at first the solider, then the girl, who was staring at the floor. Finally, the girl looked up. Her blue eyes, now free of any fear, startled everyone yet again. “Caught me,” she said in a singsong voice. She no longer looked a scared little child. She looked capable of anything. “Now, let’s play a little game,” she continued, her voice sharp and carefree. “You searched only my first boot, so you left me some toys. Now…first you see me…” She looked straight at Anya. The princess jolted as she looked into those electric eyes, knowing in that moment who the girl’s target was. “Now,” continued the assassin softly, “You don’t.” The next things that happened were so sudden it took Anya’s brain a moment to catch up. Devan yelled, a small explosion of smoke came from the little group of guards and the assassin, and there was a small pattering of feet away. Anya felt something land on her lap, hidden in the folds of her corset. She looked down, then back up at where the commotion was stopping. The smoke had cleared. The girl was gone. And the guards, including Devan, were all slit in the throat. Devan’s hand was open, but it looked as though he had been clutching something. Then Anya remembered. She sucked in a breath, frantically glancing at the floor around the dead guards. There was no doubt about it. The knife and the assassin were gone, and she was in danger.

…

That night, Anya lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. Her four-poster covers kept her concealed from the rest of the world, but she knew even this and the two guards outside her door were not enough to calm her nerves. After seeing what had happened earlier, she was still shaken. Even the patrol sent around the castle searching 24/7 for the assassin wasn’t enough.
She sighed. One o clock in the morning and she hadn’t gotten a wink. She swung her legs out of bed and reached for the curtains of the bed. She should probably get some water.
Naturally, it gave her a heart attack when she saw the assassin sitting on the chair by her bed, sharpening her knife quietly and casually. She let out a squeaking sound. She wasn’t sure where it had come from, but it was probably just her trying to ask a question.
In any case, the girl looked up. She was unsurprised. “Hello, princess.”
“H-how did you get in here?” Anya’s voice finally returned.
“An assassin has her secrets. Those that she tries to generally keep from targets.” The girl looked back down at her knife. Anya opened her mouth, with half a mind to call her guards.
The assassin glanced up, guessing her motive. “Don’t try it. By the time they react you’ll be dead and when they open the door I’ll be gone.”
“Isn’t that your intention after all?” Anya asked. “Why wait to kill me?”
“My dear princess,” smirked the assassin. “It was just by my orders that I’m here at the castle. That means not that I will follow them. I brought false expectations to my boss, you could say.”
“So you’re not an assassin?” Anya asked. 
“Nope, I’m most certainly an assassin. This blade has killed many upon my own doing, and purposefully. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to kill you.” The assassin glanced at the door. “After all, we are linked souls. I did some digging when I heard you were my next target. It’s what I do often. What I found surprised me. I will not harm those of my own blood.”
“What do you mean?” Anya asked, curious in spite of herself.
All act of sharpening the knife gone, the girl stared out the window. “You know, family.”
She looked up at Anya, her blue eyes peircing the princess’s for the second time. 
“My name is River, Anya, and I am your twin sister.”

Matt scanned the misty, Irish seascape, his mood getting darker with every second. Where was that assasin? His boss should have known better than to hire HER. This was real life war, and she was just a mere child. Ok, she was thirteen. But still. Finally, a figure appeared, jogging towards him with impeccable ease. At last! Glaring at the ninja-clad figure, named River, that trotted up to a stop in front of him, shocking blue eyes piercing his soul joyfully, as if she knew she was late and was proud of it. “You’re late, agent,” Matt noted grumpily, an obvious point. “I am,” River responded. “Well, report,” he sighed. “The victim has been dealt with.” “And?” “Kai is dead.” “What?” The master spy that had gone with River on their mission— dead? “How?” “Enemy blade. He got caught. I escaped.” “Well, you have a new mission. The princess.” River’s eyes widened. “The princess? Why?” “Grubby urchins like you aren’t concerned it the matter. Do you job.” “Ok.” River shrugged and turned to walk away. “And Agent?” She turned. “You’re walking on thin ice,” he said softly. “Stop disobeying orders, Agent. Get the job done.” “Of course.” Chewing a wad of gum, Matt turned to walk away. Shaking his head, he thought about how River was such a good agent, if she just had some direction. That was when the arrow pierced his neck. He slumped over, dead at once. A figure appeared out of the mist, placing a foot on Matt’s body. Yanking the arrow out, they turned and looked seaward. Pulling some more gum out of Matt’s pocket, they popped it in their mouth, turned, and started walking away, in the direction of the palace. They were River.

“Zoe get up we have a mission in 10 minutes!” Valerie my PIC (partner in crime.) Says as she shakes me awake.

Hearing that I bolt out of bed and rushed into the bathroom to get in my assassin suit on and put my hair in a French braid, and then do all the basic hygine.

Unlike other people me,Valerie, and the whole UCAA (under cover assassin agency) likes to kill.

The THRILL,THE SESPENSE, AND THE BABYISH SQUEAL THE VICTIMS MAKE WHEN THE WEAPON PLUNGES IN THIER BODY! (There such BABIES)

I smiled at myself in the mirror and grabbed my lucky dagger I named (yes I named) Valerie in honor of my PIC Valerie and Valerie named her lucky dagger Zoe in honor of MEEE!

I gripped my dagger as I step out of the bathroom and me and Valerie sprint out of our dorm in the UCAA building.

We sprint to our cool black invisible space jet and I start the engine and it made a roaring sound as I felt the steering wheel vibrating under my hands I play my assassin playlist on Spotify. I started to fly above the clouds to LA as the plane flew up.

I landed the plane after 5 minutes of flying since the jet was FAST. I felt the gun strapped to my side.

This was our biggest mission yet cause we have to murder the princess of this town called ‘Queen’s village’ the princesses name was Vanessa.

“Go time.” I whisper as I break down the door with my black shiny explosive gun. I easily took out the guards with Valerie and finally we got to the princesses quarter.

I explode the door and rush in, grabbing Vanessa and holding her in place while Valerie grabs the gun.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Just don’t kill me!” Vanessa trembles. “……..Fine.” I gruffly say, putting handcuffs on her.

We drove home and decided we would have some “fun” with Vanessa. Immediately once I got to my dorm with Valerie and Venessa officially captured. I handcuffed her to the bed frame and we started.

I put peanut butter all over her. I then bring in dozens of dogs. The dogs were EXTRA with saliva.

Vanessa screamed like a child! Now the classics. We poured ice on her and slobbered her with toothpaste.

“NOOOOOOO!” Vanessa cries in embarrassment.

Pierre apprend que son frère Jean a violé Emmanuelle, sa fille de quinze ans qu’il adore. Le crime s’est produit quatre ans plus tôt, et entre temps Jean s’est établi aux États-Unis, à Memphis, dans une superbe maison georgienne située à quelques kilomètres de la résidence du défunt Elvis Presley. Mais peu importe la distance qu’il devra franchir, Pierre sait qu’il devra tuer son frère et il commence tout de suit à préparer son meurtre.

Most like me keep to the shadows. But, that would be typical. Expected. I find that the element of surprise is far more useful when you’re not sulking in a corner like a common criminal. Why blend in when you were born to stand out? I wear my orange (though never a jumpsuit) with pride, and accesorize with an accent of red. A tasty snack. You’ll be itching to know me. I can promise you that much. I am many things, but don’t you forget this: I put the “sass” in “assassin” and I never miss. Would you care for a kiss? Maybe by the eye or right on the lips?

K I S S I N G

If I bug you, set me free.

Carolyn ran wildly through the fields behind her grandparents house. It had been a horrible day today. Social Media was lit up with false accusations and doctored photos. Who could hate her that much? She collapsed against a huge weeping willow tree. She was panting hard, trying to see through her tears that soaked her face and blurred her vision. How had this become her life in one short day?

Dylan got up and started her routine. Today was the day. She was tired of being pushed around. She was seen as an outcast. She had a complicated home life. Her father was in jail and her mother was stretched thin. Dylans younger brother was a handful. He has all kinds of neurological problems, behavior issues and trauma from before he came to be her adopted brother. She was tired of feeling like he got all the attention. She missed time with her mom. She missed her dad. Her mom tried, but Bryan was always a limiting factor for everything in their lives. She was a good student, but didn’t have many friends. She was afraid to bring anyone home to her messy house or troubled brother. She didn’t want to make things harder on her mom even though she encouraged her to have friends - go out, invite them over or whatever. Mom just couldn’t keep up with everything and Dylan didn’t like feeling like she had to be the other adult in the house. It wasn’t fair.

School was hardly better. She tried so hard to fit in, that she ended up not fitting in. Her mom was right, not that she would ever tell her that, but maybe she did try to hard. But today that was going to change. She was done being the one that was made fun of and dumped on each day. She did what she needed to and knew everything she needed to know. She had bided her time and watched those around her. As people spoke and gossiped like she wasn’t there, she began to know everything. It was intoxicating. She knew that she was no longer going to be the one everyone pointed and stared at or ignored completely. Today her new blog was going to go live. She just needed to stop at the coffee shop on the way, it would blur her online fingerprint and keep her anonymous. Today, she’d begin to get her revenge.

By lunch, the whole school had shared the newest gossip blog: The Assassin. The first article had come out, with pictures to boot. The pictures were blurred so as not to be sharing pornography, especially nude minors, but everyone could see the face. Carolyn Maxwell, the most popular girl in school was splayed on the top of the article that read:

						Carolyn - She who is worshiped by all. As you can see from the picture above, she sure is
						worshiped by someone. Carolyns family is no longer the wealthy socialites she’d have you 
						continue to believe. The IRS has been paying awfully close attention to her father’s financial 
						dealings. If her best friend E is to be believed, Carolyn is in the family way. What will she do now?
						Who is the father? How can she support someone with her family in ruins. This blogger wont 
						rest until they find all the answers. Until tomorrow, The Assassin

The whispers were awful. Carolyn had only told one person any of these secrets. She couldn’t believe that her best friend would write this. There was no real clue who the Assassin was, but he or she certainly assassinated Carolyn that day. Maybe She is still alive, but she wishes she wasn’t. Only time will tell how many more people will fall pray to The Assassin.

I finally worked my way to the top. My years of training have paid off. I’ve studied the ways the masters taught, using them as necessary to dole out justice. No one knows who I am, but that’s the beauty of it. My fame is in being unknown. My might is unparalleled in my circle, and I exude confidence in every tactic I use. Whoever decides to cross me will lose everything. I am an anonymous assassin, omnisciently operating my organization to topple tyrannical totems of the world wide web. I am a hacker, working tirelessly to end anyone who believes they can buy their way out of their monstrous crimes. I’m a digital shadow, ready to leak the secrets of the unjust. I will not rest until the world is free of oppression.

“Carly, we have a job for you.” Mike whispered over the phone. “Ugh, what is it now?” I sigh. “I’ll send you a file.” “Can I bring the crew?” “Honestly, I don’t think it’s necessary!” “Wyatt’s my husband, and Naomi’s my best friend. They’re coming along or you’ll have to find someone else.” “Fine, if you insist.” “I do.” I hang up on him and call Naomi. “We got a job!” “I’ll get paid, right?” “Course you are, just don’t tell Wy.” “Aight, I’m on my way.” I walk to my bedroom to wake up Wyatt. “Get up! Get up! Get up!” I yell jumping on top the bed. “Whatyohwant!” He groans. “We have a job and you and your sister are coming!” “Who?” “I dunno?” “You have to be the nicest assassin in the entire world.” “Yeah I know”

                       ……………………….

We pull into the address Mike gave me and pop open the trunk, where a I keep my collections of guns. I select my favorite ,and toss Wyatt, and Naomi one too. She picks the lock and Wyatt goes in first. “Lives alone, no family, he leads a gang, they torture, and sometimes kill innocents for money.” “Wow that makes the job easier.” I whisper. “Who’s there?” The man hollers. We trace the noise to a empty room in the back. Empty all but a man, his mid thirty’s maybe, jet black hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and a foul smile. “I had a feeling they’d send someone eventually! I just thought they’d send an adult, how old are you? Sixteen?” “Twenty-four, thank you very much.” “You honestly do not seem like a professional assassin.” The man pulls a gun off his belt. On instinct I swing my leg up and kick it out of his hands, and Naomi retrieves it. “That’s what makes me so good at it.” I spit. “You don’t have the guts to do it!” He spat back. “That’s what the last, uhhhh..” “Sixty-eight.” Wyatt answered. “Yeah what the last sixty-eight said. People always seem to underestimate me.” “And they tend to regret it!” Naomi adds. “Prove it.” “Never seen someone so eager, you lil weirdo! As you wish.” BANG. BANG. BANG. I shoot him twice to the head, once in the heart. And even though he’s a bad person, just like the others, I always feel a pang of guilt after I complete a job. Wyatt and Naomi know this, and I think they feel it too, because we all take a sharp breath and turn away. Naomi hands me the phone, “It’s Mike. ” “WHATS TAKING YOU SO LONG! DID YOU GET IT DONE!” He screams through the phone. “Yeah it’s done, just send me the money. Cash please.” I hang up and we head back out to the car. It’s only when we get home that I realize earlier, it wasn’t guilt. Not this time. This time, it was a sense of accomplishment. I enjoyed it.

I saw her out of the corner of my eye. Dressed in black hiding behind a car, then a wall then she was right behind me. Holding a knife, “any last words?” She hissed at me. I closed my eyes and prepared for the next step of my plan. Hunting.