Dark Messiah
OOC thread is here
In the depths of Tokyo’s downtown a man stood sheltered beneath a bridge, the sound of cars rumbling overhead drowning out any stray noises. He glanced down at his wrist, pulling back the sleeve of his tailored grey suit to reveal his watch. The sudden sound of footsteps alerted him to the presence of an observer in the shadows and he turned with a gasp.
“It’s me.” The other man seemed out of breath. There was an agitated look in his eyes as they darted to and fro. He wore a beaten trench coat drenched in rain with a wide brimmed fedora. The first man relaxed slightly, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
“What took you so long?” He asked, allowing a relieved smile to cross his face.
“They found me. But I think I shook them.” The second man looked behind him as he descended the steps to the underside of the bridge.
“But you got it right?” The first man asked tentatively, looking into the other’s eyes.
“Yes.”
“Good.” The man’s expression dropped into one of neutrality. His eyes became cold and apathetic. He snapped his fingers and the trench coated man toppled suddenly, a fountain of blood erupting from the top of his neck where his head had once been. His body slumped to the ground with a thud. The suited man immediately moved to the corpse and began to rifle through its pockets before removing something from the coat pocket.
“Impressive. You crushed his head under its own weight. Gravity manipulation, correct?” The voice came from the shadows and the suited man looked over his shoulder as he stood. “That is your contract, is it not?” In the shadows of the bridge a tall figure in a black overcoat and white mask stood. The suited man took a step back and raised his hand. The figure in black lunged forward, his movements lost in a blur as he moved through the darkness with ferocious speed. The man stumbled backwards and collapsed, the same empty expression never leaving his face even as the knife sliced through his jugular in a thick spray of blood. The black coated man stooped to retrieve the item in the body’s hand. A small, thin plastic strip. A memory stick.
A few streets away and Ein dialled a number into his phone. He peered over the edge of the roof off into the brightly lit neon streets of Tokyo. The densely packed skyscrapers jagged against the skyline, the stars glittering in the night sky. It was beautiful, not that he noticed. His appreciation for such things had left him long ago. He removed his mask, allowing the cold night air to cool his skin.
“I have the Objective. Mission Accomplished.” He intoned coldly.
***
The next day Juste ambled through the university campus. He held a book in front of him, reading as he walked. His topcoat was unbuttoned and his shirt loose despite the season. Even in the middle of winter Japan was warmer than England, or at least it seemed that way to him. He took a moment to look up from his book. It was a beautiful day with clear skies and a bright sun. A cool breeze blew through the trees of the campus, evergreens, their rustling drowned out by the laughter and chatter of the other students.
