The wind chimed silently through the air. It carried hidden music that swayed through the melodic breeze, whisking away all thoughts of death and blood from the murderer’s thoughts.
Vincent sat still on a round stone, leg crossed and hands on his knees. His golden eyes were closed in an attempt to block out the memories from his past, memories from before he ever became a full fledged assassin. It was only when stray thoughts came through the barrier he tried to hold up a tear would fall. And then the wall broke.
Vincent held his head and took a deep breath as he stood and struck a nearby rock, shattering half of it. His knuckled bled lightly, but he hit the rock again, leaving another large dent. Vincent took another deep breath that ended ragged and warn as if he was about to cry.

A while off, high in the cliffs, stood Mikial, who stared down at the broken mess Vincent had become. A smile played on the edges of his mouth, but the fun would come in a matter of moments. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword and chortled.
“Wait…it isn’t the right time. Just wait a few more minutes,” he mumbled to himself.

Vincent collapsed on the ground and gasped for air. Shards of stone surrounded him. His knuckled were bleeding. A smile was on his lips, a memory was in his head. It was a long time ago, a mission with his team from the old days. A small laugh came from his throat at the old jokes said and the old pranks played.
His eyes snapped open. His muscles stiffened. He saw a shadow. He saw Mikial.

Mikial dived down and unsheathed his sword, burying the blade into the soil only a few meter’s from Vincent’s head.
“Hello, Vincent,” he laughed.
Vincent rolled over and got to his feet, crouched down low. The two were only an arms length away.
“What do you want, Mikial?” the murderer sneered, venom in his voice.
“To kill you of course. I’ve set it off for way too long. What if I die before I get a chance to kill you?” Mikial smiled.
“You’ll have to catch me first.”
In a few seconds smoke covered the area. Vincent perched on a boulder miles up the mountain. His rival was no where in sight. He drew his sword and spun. The clash of metal rang out. A malicious look stained Mikial’s eyes.
“You can’t hide, old man,” Mikial started. “You can’t win.”
Vincent saw something glint in Mikial’s other hand and flinched. He held his breath once the hidden blade burrowed into his flesh. Only a minute later did the two part.

Vincent’s blade skidded across rock and fell down the side of the mountain as he jumped back. Blood coated his white shirt where the dagger had hit. His hand gently touched the wound, his eyes never leaving Mikial.
Mikial just grinned at Vincent, his tongue running across the bloodied steel. A chuckle escaped his lips. A chill ran up the spine of his victim, signaling the turning of the battle.

The two fighters stood about a foot apart, circling. Vincent’s hand clutched his wound, eyes never parting from the look of amusement in Mikial’s eyes. His opponent twirled the knife in one hand as if nothing was really going on.
Then he struck. Mikial advanced forward. His arm swung out, slicing the air meters from Vincent’s neck. Only two swipes of the knife before Vincent grabbed Mikial’s wrist, receiving a hit to the back of his head and a knee to his gut. The demon murderer quickly recovered and sent a blow to Mikial’s face.
A small flash of shock rushed through his features, replaced by his twisted grin in a matter of seconds. Mikial knocked Vincent’s hand away and ran the blade down Vincent’s side. Blood dripped out of the wound instantly, stunning him momentarily. Taking this chance, Mikial lashed out, cutting Vincent’s chest.
Vincent let out a cry of pain and jumped back. He ducked low and jumped out of the way as more attacks came out. His hand took hold of Mikial’s wrist once more, making the knife fall after a few more hits. The favor was wit him now.

A swing to Mikial’s throat and another to his gut. There was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through Vincent’s veins as Mikial fell to the ground after several more hits.
He took in a deep breath and stared down at his fallen opponent.
“I thought…..you said you were going to kill me,” the murderer chortled.
Vincent tilted his head and suddenly yelped as his legs were kicked from under him.
“I promise I will,” Mikial smirked.
He got to his feet and kicked Vincent’s ribs, hearing a small crack. Vincent let a moan of pain escape his lips, almost screaming once Mikial hit his ribs again.

Mikial knelt down to grab his knife and smirked at the site of Mikial attempting to get up.
“Poor thing, you look so weak. Having a thousand little needles stuck into you is much worse, you know. Let’s try a thousand swords.”
The steel dived through Vincent’s back, sticking out through his stomach. Blood slowly trickled through Vincent’s lips. Tears went through his eyes. A ragged breath as let out once the sword retreated. Vincent fell back to the ground.
“No….I’ll be nice. Just scream,” Mikial cackled
“Burn in hell…Mikial,” Vincent winced as the words came out.
He felt something grab his hair and jerk up. A knife was placed up to his neck and there was a scream, but not because of the knife cutting his throat apart.
Mikial pulled away, wiping the blood off his mouth. His licked his lips and bent down, cleaning the blade of the knife on a small patch of grass. His eyes trailed upward to stair at Vincent’s corpse. Several cuts on the body, along with a chunk of flesh missing from his neck. Mikial laughed.
“I have to say, Vincent….you weren’t much off a fight,” he said, spitting out bits of flesh and blood.
The assassin grinned and turned, picking up Vincent’s sword, stabbing it into Vincent’s skull. A small laugh from Mikial as he turned and left.