Duo knew who he looked like, even if no one else did.
He looked like Death.
They both had long brown braids and violet eyes. They both dressed entirely in black. They both carried scythes. If not for their gender, they could have been clones.
He knew all this because Death had told him. She'd come to him when Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had died and told him that she had a purpose for him. That she owned him, mind, body, and soul. He'd been only eight at the time, scared and alone, so he'd agreed to do her bidding.
Now fifteen, Duo roamed the streets of his home at night, going where Death commanded, killing whom she told him to.
Each time he killed, he left no clue save the Death card of a particularly well-made tarot deck. It sole purpose was to keep others from being blamed for his crimes.
Under his mistress's directions, he took life to save others. Murderers, rapists, sociopaths, all of his victims were criminals in their own right. He stalked and slew, hating it even as he did so, knowing that if he did not, more would die.
Duo. Death's voice resounded in his head, calling his attention from the movie he'd been watching. Get ready. I have another assignment for you.
"Where?" He asked out loud, flicking off the TV and standing up.
Downtown. Bring your guns with you; his friends might interfere. Her presence disappeared; he'd receive further instructions when he got to the designated area.
"I devoutly hope not." He muttered, going down the basement, where he stored his tools.
They were exactly where he'd left them; waterproof black cloak, mass-produced black boots, black leather gloves, obsidian mask, gunbelt and guns, and his scythe, washed clean of any visible sign of blood.
From a shoebox on a nearby table he pulled his calling card, tucking it into a pouch on the belt. He pulled on his work clothes, donning the mask last, then used the magics Death had given him to transport himself to a back alley in the heart of downtown.
Prompt as always, I see. Death sounded amused to Duo's mental ear. Your target is a man named Dekim Barton. Hard on the heels of the name came a clear mental picture of the man; a skinny, balding man with cold eyes. He plans to bomb three theaters tomorrow afternoon. The bombs have been set, but he is the only one who can detonate them. I will lure him to your current location; do not move.
"Gotcha." Duo muttered under his breath, melting further into the shadows so no chance ray of light would reveal him by reflecting off his mask or weapons.
After less than a minute of waiting, Dekim stumbled into the alley, followed by four or five men with a military air and a slim, well-endowed woman with a cascade of chestnut brown hair and the skimpiest, reddest, outfit Duo had seen on her yet.
"I certainly hope you're not expecting me to do all six at once." Death was saying. "I may be good, but I'm not that good."
Duo rolled his eyes behind his mask. Death was far from dead herself; in fact, he didn't know of anyone with a sexual appetite as big as hers. She'd want to have some fun before they got down to business, unless this Dekim was a bad kisser.
Come out, Duo. Death instructed him. The man must have learned to kiss practicing on balloons.
Duo rolled his eyes again and stayed in the shadows until the entire group was well in the alley, then moved behind them.
"Dekim Barton." He barked, gaining the immediate attention of his quarry.
"Who the hell are you?" Dekim asked, his hands still busy on Death's greatest asset.
In a flash of streetlights on steel, Duo made certain Dekim would never ask anything of anybody again.
A bullet pinged off his mask, and he drew his own gun and returned fire. Within seconds, there were only two people left standing in the back alley.
"Well done, pet." Death said, clapping softly as Duo placed the Death card on Dekim's blood-soaked chest. "Go get some rest; you should have tomorrow off." Then she was gone, leaving Duo alone with six bodies and a heavy heart.
It was all Duo could do to stay awake; he hadn't gotten much sleep last night, and math was boring anyway, since he already knew everything they were trying to teach him. He was two chapters ahead of the class, and the teacher knew it, so she left him alone.
But he still had to stay awake, if only to make sure no one pulled a prank on him. And even that was barely enough to keep him conscious.
Then something came along to snap him back from la-la land.
Something was tall, thin, brown-haired, and green-eyed. He was dressed in jeans and a turtleneck. He handed the teacher a slip of paper and was waved to the empty desk on Duo's left.
"If you have trouble settling in, ask Maxwell to your right." The teacher told the new guy. "I can't guarantee he'll answer you at all, much less help, but..."
Then the lesson moved on, leaving Duo alone with what had to be an angel in his little corner.
"Hi." Tall, Thin, and Gorgeous said quietly, smiling from behind bangs that covered half his face. "My name's Trowa."
Hello, Sexy. Duo thought, although he simply raised one hand in greeting before going back to writing in his notebook. He didn't talk to other kids; he had absolutely nothing to say that they'd want to hear.
For the rest of the block, Duo kept sneaking glances at Trowa and writing down what he saw. It was unusual for him to pay so much attention to one person, but it wasn't like anyone would notice. And if they did, who really cared?
Trowa was a good multitasker; it was no problem for him to pay attention to the teacher and the person next to him at the same time, no matter how much more interesting said person was.
Build was slight from what he could see; face was fine-boned and feminine. Eyes were huge and violet, which also bespoke femininity, as did the yard long braid hanging off the edge of the desk. The teacher, however, had referred to the person as male. Male he was. A very pretty male.
Down, Trowa! He instructed himself firmly. Remember what happened every other time you jumped first and asked questions after the lynching mob showed up. Not everyone shares your taste in dates.
Of course, that didn't make this Maxwell kid any less attractive; if anything, it just made him that much more so. Lure of the unattainable and all that fun stuff.
This is gonna be so much fun. He thought with an inward smile.
Yes, this is a very short first chapter, but I wanted to get it up before I forgot it. Tell me what y'all think of it, and I'll get to crackin' on chapter two.