As Hazel Duvall sat in the fancy hotel's bar, she eyed each guest with the slightest insecurity. Her ice-blue eyes, rimmed in midnight-black eyeliner, scanned every person in the room with a kind of thirst, trying to absorb every detail like a sponge absorbs water. As she glanced at the oak bar, she saw the Irish bartender flirting with an English businessman. She was whispering something to him as she ran her dainty hands through his slicked-back brown hair. Next, Hazel noticed the drunk American man gazing at the bartender and the businessman with a greedy look in his eyes. Finally, Hazel looked at the young woman sitting in the chair across from her. She was reading The Circus of Darkness, a book that had topped the charts that year. She was wiping her eyes of tears, most likely of sadness. Everyone looked so calm, so happy, none of them carried the burden that Hazel had carried for almost her entire life.

"Excuse me, miss?" Hazel turned her head to look at the young man standing next to her. He was wearing a red polo shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. His golden name tag read CHRIS in dark block letters. "Would you like some more coffee?" He held up the coffee pot that he was holding. Hazel nodded, and he pored coffee into her cup. She took a sip, and smiled as the warmth of the coffee filled her.

"Excuse me, Chris?" I asked. "Do you happen to know if a man named George Forwell is currently staying in this hotel?" He thought about my question for a couple minutes.

"I can check on the computer and see. Did you say his name was George Forwell?" Hazel nodded, and he went over to the front desk. Hazel began to sip her coffee, quietly enjoying every sip. When Chris came back, she placed her cup on the table next to her.

"Mr. Forwell is currently staying in Room 347, should I call him and tell him to expect some company?" Hazel shook her head, her long brown hair flopping from side to side.

"No thank you Chris," she responded. "I want my visit to be a surprise." Chris nodded, and went over to the bar to refill his coffee pot. After he left, she stood up and left the bar. As she did, she pulled out the ruby pendant from inside her shirt. That pendant showed her membership in the Ruby Assassins, one of the most well-known groups in Fray.

Later that night, Hazel crouched on the balcony of Room 347, her black assassins cloak billowing out behind her. Inside that room was one of the most feared Drug Lords in Fray. George Forwell had transported over two million dollars' worth of cocaine across the city just this year. Overall, George had been made the number one priority on Hazel's kill list. Hazel carefully opened the sliding glass door, looked behind her, and slipped into the dark room.

As she stayed low to the ground, she took in her surroundings. The walls were a navy blue color, and the carpet was the same color. There was a black leather couch in the center of the room, and a small table next to it. The main thing that caught her eye was the large table a few feet away from the couch. On the table was three black duffel bags, and Hazel guessed that they were all filled with cocaine. Just as Hazel was going to get a closer look, she felt the floor vibrate under her feet. She quickly dove into the corner of the room, just as two men entered the room. Due to her cloaks Camo-Tech, she could basically turn invisible, her cloak would turn the color that was behind, next to, or underneath. When she saw the man that had walked into the room, she smiled. George Forwell had arrived.

George had changed from the last time Hazel had seen him. His once bald head was now full of messy, raven-black hair. The scar on his face that she gave him when she first tried to kill him had healed nicely, but had left a white line across his tan skin. He was wearing a fancy black suit, and a black fedora rested on his head. In his hands were two more duffle bags, most likely filled with his drug money. He turned and looked out the door.

"Hey Sam, did you see anyone follow us here?" He asked a man who had just walked into the room. Hazel cursed under her breath. Of course he would hire a bodyguard, she thought angrily. She looked at the man, Sam, and took him in. The man had short dirty-blond hair, gelled up in a spike in the front. His leaf-green eyes darted around the room, passing over Hazel two or three times before answering his boss.

"Nein, Herr Forwell," Sam replied. He seemed to have a German accent. "The room and the hallways are cleared." George grinned, and shooed Sam away with a flick of his hand. Sam nodded, and walked back out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Hazel breathed a sigh of relief. Having that bodyguard out in the hall should make my job much easier. Hazel thought to herself as she quietly made her way over to George. As she started moving closer, George sat down, and opened the duffle bag. As he pulled out the cash, he began to count the money. As Hazel reached the couch, she slowly came to a stop, right behind George. Then, as fast as she could, she lashed out, one arm wrapping around his arms, and a hand covering his mouth.

"Hello, George," she said. "Remember me?" Georges' eyes widened as he registered the voice, and started to yell.

"MMMMPH! MMMMMMMPH!" George cried out, tears rolling down his face. Unfortunately, his bodyguard has excellent hearing, and burst into the room, his gun drawn. He slowly took in the scene. His employer struggling with an invisible assailant, Hazel could see the confusion cloud his judgment. George got his mouth free from Hazels' hand.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" George screamed. "JUST SHOOT!" Sam nodded, and raised his gun. Hazel began to panic. Just as she was about to dive out of the way. Sam shot George right in the middle of his forehead. Hazels' jaw dropped. Sam put his gun away, and sighed.

"Why don't you come out now, Frau Duvall?" He says. Hazel hesitated. How the hell does he know my name? She asked herself. Finally, Hazel let the Camo Tech deactivate, and she pulled back her hood, letting her long hair tumble down her back. She looked at him, asking herself a lot of questions.

"Who…are you?" She finally asked him, her hands slowly reaching for her daggers. Sam seemed to notice the movement, and he chuckled.

"Guten Tag, my name is Sam Heindbeurg, your new partner," he responded, a gleam in his eyes. "Shall we report to Queen Elisa? She must want to know everything about Herr Forwell's death, ja?" Hazel nodded, and they set off together.