THE CLAW PLUNGED INTO THE victim’s heart.

She waited several minutes to ensure the victim was not going to move.

Then she carefully wiped her hands on the victim’s clothes, satisfied with her work.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor.

She continued her work, unfazed. Everything had been planned and considered. She loved this corridor. How convenient it was, to have a place with great acoustics that powerful people walk through daily. She corked a small vial of the victim’s blood, and pocketed it. Then she laid down beside the victim. She took a deep breath and let out a loud scream.

The footsteps stopped. She smiled. How easy it was to have something go smoothly. She had been practicing the art of fainting, perfecting it to the last detail. Her limbs were positioned naturally, yet in such it way it would be easy to leap into a fight. One hand closed around another bear claw. The other gripped her pistol.

The footsteps quickened, coming for her. She calmed her pounding heart, reminding herself that the mission was not yet complete. She closed her eyes, activating all her other senses. It’s a wonder why so many forget about their sense of smell, she thought with amusement, they’re missing out on something beautiful.

They arrived. She waited a painfully long second, until someone leaned over her. She felt the person’s hot breath on her face. It smelled faintly of mint, with a citrus twist. Someone pressed two fingers on her wrist, checking her pulse. Finally, the person let go.

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“She’s only fainted. It’s alright.” This came directly above her. The same person who had been checking her pulse. She was undoubtfully female.

“Must’ve been from the shock of seeing the other.” This was a second voice, deeper, but still feminine.

“She’s—”

“Dead.”

She willed herself not to smile. She won’t let her joy destroy everything she’s done. But that short exchange of words could only mean one thing. She had done her job correctly.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go,” The first girl said.

“Where?” Bewilderment was buried in the words.

“To class. Come on.”

“Class? After all this?”

“Well, we have to tell someone about this.”

Yes. Leave. She thought.

“But shouldn’t I stay? Someone has to look after them. It’s in the rulebook.”

You won’t be able to look after me. She gripped her weapons. She didn’t want to use them just yet, but some circumstances call for action.

“And you’ve never broke the rules?”

“Qwynn, you’re being a little edgy.”

Qwynn?

“Oh, yeah. I just saw a dead body. In a corridor. After I heard a scream. Yeah, just something you see every day. Nothing to be nervous about,” the first girl, “Qwynn” said.

“Still, I really should stay behind. You go get help”

“Look, it’s not going to work if you keep arguing. This attacker, she’s killed our people. For all I know, she’s still somewhere right around the corner. I’m not sure I can fight off this assassin, a prepared assassin, may I add, by myself. And neither can you.”

“Qwynn…”

“Oh, stop whining. I’m leaving.”

Someone walked away, presumably Qwynn. She could still sense someone else hovering around her, but soon a second pair of footsteps joined the first. She strained her ears for the echoes of the receding footsteps. Soon, it was silent once more. She sprang up.

In ten minutes she was outside, fanning wind on her sweaty face. The air smelled of wet earth from a light shower. She beamed, enjoying her success.

As she was soon to learn, that was the worst mistake she could have made.