Nyx leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the cluster of the tiny apartment blocks. The frosty Dublin air chilled her face and hands, but that wasn’t important.
The only important thing was finding him.
He was the next victim assigned to her by Dusk. He always gave her their address, and a short description of them, but never their names. Names didn’t matter, only that she got the job done.
Another roof appeared, this one a bit taller than the others. With her eyes now accustomed to the darkness, Nyx could make out the layer of purple paint in the highest room that had been messily applied when the man had moved in. Starting at the end of the roof nearest to the building, she ran at the building at a terrifying pace. Suddenly, when she reached the very end of the roof, she pushed off with all the strength she could muster in her legs. Flying towards the roof, she stopped her whole body from hitting the apartment by holding on to the corner with both hands, and putting her feet in front. She still felt the impact of hitting the brick wall, but not as bad as what it could have been. Steadying herself, Nyx peered down at the open window directly below her. A small amount of light was coming out of it, which meant that he could still be awake. She needed the element of surprise, or else the man might disturb someone within hearing range. She slid down the wall, careful to not make any sound, and keep one hand on the edge of the roof. She landed on the windowsill and slid inside in one fluid movement (thankful that the window was open).
She stepped in to face a giant, green sofa. Boy, it was ugly. Nyx mentally shook herself, “no time for your opinion in terrible interior design,” she scolded herself in her head. “Just get on with it!” She noticed a tuft of brown hair sticking out of the top of the sofa, like a dead shrub popping up from an, ugly, meadow. Only this shrub was moving. She stepped around the obstacle, careful not to make a sound. Now, facing the man, she stomped her foot on the wood floor, so loud that he woke up instantly.
It was a rule of hers, a moral of sorts. She agreed that if she was going to kill someone, she might as well let him or her be awake and know it was going to happen, rather than her just slaughtering them behind their backs, or when they were asleep. Even she had to draw the line somewhere.
Sometimes she’d let them fight, just to toy with them, other times she’d make it quick, out of mercy.
But today she was going to draw his death out. She had had a bad day. It was too full of memories. Memories that had lead to her discovering the secret world of magic. And that she was part of it.
She sent the shadows toward him before he had time to scream. He stared at her wide-eyed, chocking on pure darkness, shadows of the dead. She gave him a malicious smile as he fell to the ground, trying to breathe, and failing miserably. She would have pitied him, if he weren’t so pathetic. Even now, she could imagine the darkness swirling through his veins, squeezing his lungs. He dropped to his elbows, his whole body shaking, just a few more seconds now… The man dropped all the way to his face now, no longer moving, no longer breathing. The death in the room shot towards the jewelled dagger, resting in a hidden pocket inside her leather jacket. Just before she left, Nyx checked all places in the rooms for any valuables. She came across a small crystal. Not very precious, but it would do.
Climbing the dusty stairs to her tiny hotel room, Nyx wondered how many other magic wielding people were there in the same city, the same suburb, the same hotel? How many were aware of the amazing secret world?
How many would she kill?
Stopping at the tiny door, the number 3 hastily scribbled on with black marker, she pulled the rusted key from her pocket and turned the lock. Stepping in, she found all her luggage next to her bed, stacked on top of one another. Dusk had kept his promise. Still not tired enough to sleep yet (and really, looking at the bed, anyone would have preferred to stay up late), she opened up the tiny suitcase at the top of the pile, taking out the small crystal as she did so. Opening it up, she found her whole collection of assorted gems. She had rubies that sparked like drops of red blood, sapphires that twinkled like the night sky, emeralds that were like dewy grass, opals with a rainbow of colours swirling together and many other precious stones.
But the one that she valued above all was a small fragment of obsidian. When lava from an active volcano cooled off, it transformed into a gem. But it wasn’t so much the fact that she had found it after she survived the volcanic eruption in Iceland recently, but that the gem was a deep, glossy black. Just like her heart.
She carefully placed the crystal in a pocket with the rest of her crystals. Some gems had been given to her in her former life, when she had been “blinded” and oblivious to the dark, magical world that was changing all around her. Before she had found out about this world, she had wished for a normal life with her best friend, Kristy. She realised now what a fool she had been. She was more powerful than ever now, and was working her way to the top of the strongest magic wielders list. She would have probably been close to first on the most wanted list too, if any one had ever caught her. Or even seen her.
Now that she had been revealed to the new world, and her true powers, Nyx only wanted three simple things: one: to kill. Two: to gain money and power from her kill. The third, she kept to herself.
The wind poured into her room and licked at what bare skin was revealed. Despite her jacket and long, thick pants, Nyx shivered. By now, she didn’t have to check her eyes to know that they would be a dull grey: meaning that she was tired.
She crept into her bed, under the dirty but thick cover and wished to whoever was listening her third and final wish.
I wish I could go back home.