I gave you part one to taste, and now it’s finished. See Kivas on the job that finally makes him question everything…
The studio had no windows. Instead, it used warm, artificial lights that were soft on the paintings.
He examined each one with an appreciative eye; literally. One eye was covered with a black patch, the other shifting between shades of crystal blue, and violet.
He could only imagine the horrors in the artist’s mind to make such powerful, grotesque pieces. Some were paintings of world damnation; strange creatures frozen amid epic slaughters where people were indiscriminately torn into pieces. Faces forever stuck in terrorized screams. These were pieces that were all chaos and mayhem, no need for subtlety. Just straight to the point and horrible.
As he moved on further into the room, he found portraits of happy mothers holding their precious infants, and young boys grinning in excitement, showing off their missing teeth. Onward still and he found more dark images painted of quiet suicides. A young girl with tears dripping off her chin and a gun against her temple. A man in a bathtub cutting the rope of a pully system keeping a large weight off his chest.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
A smile formed on his lips. He had been waiting for her to wake and join him. Not that she knew ahead of time that she had company, though.
“Well darling, I am here to kill you,” he declared through a handsome smile as he turned to face the girl.
She had soft, sloped cheeks and a gentle jaw. The face of a child, though his documents stated she was in her early twenties. Her storm washed eyes had an edge to them that spoke of a maturity her features couldn’t. Something sharp within their depths that was familiar with danger and isolation. They stood out against her dark skin and darker, thick hair. For as young as she was, she did not seem frightened with impending doom. In fact, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her shoulder against the door frame she stood in.
“Oh really?” She prompted with a deep frown on her pink lips.
His eyebrows rose, as did his amusement. In his silence, she appeared to realize the severity of her situation as her gaze fell to his covered eye. Recognition filtered through her face, chased soon by what he could only describe as awe.
“You’re him,” she stated, pointing her finger as if finally placing his face. “You’re the Hollow Angel.”
He was impressed, but not surprised. He was well known as the guardian to a powerful family full of magic and dark secrets, which was why he was referred to more often as an assassin rather than a guardian. Though they were certain to make him hard to find, his identity was difficult to hide.
He complimented, “clever girl,” through a devious smirk and took two steps towards her. “My reputation precedes me. That will make this all easier.”
She chuckled, shaking her head somewhat and glancing to the ground.
“No, you don’t understand,” she whispered. “I have dreamed of you, Kivas. I have painted you.”
It was his turn to stand confused and frozen with awe. She stepped away from the door frame and turned her back to him; a sign of trust or blatant stupidity, he pondered?
“Come, I’ll show you.”
Into the blackness, she faded. A heavy frown caught his lips as his midnight eye narrowed.
The other room was much smaller, the walls cluttered with paintings of a much different nature. Some were crude, with harsh brush strokes displaying blatant urgency. Others were smooth, well blended by a calm hand.
It was all death and completely familiar. Every last one caught the very moment of that final spark in the victim’s eye. He recognized every face frozen just before their lives ended.
Directly before him was the man he’d killed last week. In the corner, a woman assassinated with her bastard son. Staring up at him from the left was the teenage girl, too calm for what he was doing that night.
To his right he saw himself as an almost perfect reflection. The thick black hair curling about his shoulders. The sun kissed, olive skin and the square, defined jawline. The eye wasn’t covered though. He stared, bewildered at the perfect shade of faded creamy blue mutilated by thick scarring like spider legs reaching out across the flesh. He knew without a doubt; she was well aware of him long before her name was penned into doom.
This was why he was contracted to kill her.
“You are a seer, and your gift is fixated on my life.” It was not a question.
He seemed to suddenly become aware of just how small the girl was beside him. She barely reached the middle of his ribs and her skinny frame was being swallowed up inside of a huge hoodie that was three sizes too big. Her chin slightly trembled, but it was the only response that he received to his statement.
He frowned at her for a moment, calculating his next words with great care.
“You have seen who I am. You understand why I am here. Yet you do not seem to fear me.”
She bit her lip for a moment, shaking her head. “Of course, death is frightening to accept. But I know how you do things, I understand your namesake… Why you’re called the ‘Hollow Angel’. And I think if I am to meet a premature end, I would rather it be at the hands of someone gentle.”
It was the single most absurd thing he’d heard in a long time. He almost laughed. Probably would have had the situation been any different. He let out a heavy breath.
“How long would you like me to wait,” he asked in a whisper. “Is there anything you need before we begin?”
She stared at him in silence for a long moment. Her pale eyes were in such incredible pain. What had this child endured all this time? Was she ready for this?
He realized her hands were shaking at her sides.
“It is strange…,” she started, slow, as if testing the words. “I knew that this was coming, I had prepared for it… But to actually live it now… I could have never calculated it.”
He gave her a solemn nod of understanding. One truly cannot be prepared entirely for death no matter how long they await it.
“It is not weakness to be afraid. I do not want you thinking that your final moments must be some kind of act,” he told her. Continue reading “Full: Hollow Angel”