The Assignment
Shinrai
Disclaimer: CCS belongs to CLAMP. It doesn't belong to me. Don't sue.
Author's Notes: Lot's of OOC, specially on Syaoran's part. If you think he's mean in the series (not that I mind), he's a whole lot meaner here. And this is AU so don't expect Kero-chan to pop around any second. And though I completely adore Yue, he's not in this fic either. I've had this fic written at the back of my notebook and I decided to post this much to my friend, rei-chan's, encouragement. R&R
Prologue
In a dark alleyway that was nearly swallowed by the night were two men. One kneeled. The other stood. One prayed for his life's redemption. The other held life's judgment in his hands.
The older man, the kneeling man, pleaded with the younger one to spare him. His eyes misting with anxiety and fear. Sweat framed his thin scraggly face as he tried to stop the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His hands were held together in front of him like saints do when in fervent prayer. Each breath becoming hoarser and shorter as he shook at the touch of the gun on his forehead.
His scared pleading eyes were met by blank, hollow ones. That of the young man's. He stood looking down at his prey in blank amusement. And unlike the older man, the hand holding the Lugger was eerily calm.
Another shaking victim…another pleading eyes…another pious prayer…
The young man mused to himself. He lingered at the last thought. It was fascinating how man turns instantly pious at the face of death. A man could spend his whole life ignoring Divine Mercy yet pleads for God's grace and pity when death confronts them with all virtuousness.
It disgusted him in a way. But it only adds up to his convictions. A reason to clear the earth of treacherous, lying bastards. In other words, another reason to kill.
He looked at the eyes of the older man. It wasn't the first time he was faced with eyes like this. Pleading eyes. Scared eyes. Haunted eyes. The eyes in the face of death. Lord knows how many times he has faced this state. This wasn't the first, and this definitely won't be the last.
His lips curved into a small smile at his prey, his young face almost seraphic. He saw the hope building up in the iris of the older man. And just as he must have thought he was spared, he pulled the trigger.
One eerie sound.
Then follows the silence.
The young man looked down on the ground. His victim sprawled lying facedown bathing in his own blood. No emotion reflected on his face.
Another body…
He replaced his gun in the holster hidden under his coat and left without looking back.
Another job done…
Tomorrow he'd be collecting his full payment. The price of killing. Basically the price of one's life. He couldn't argue since the price of life is always well-paid.
He quietly slipped out of the alleyway and melted into the throng of late night shoppers. None of them knew that no hundred meters away from them was a freshly killed son of a bitch. And that the murderer was in their midst.
This was his life.
A damned life, yes. But it pays good.
to be continued
A.N.: Ayt. Review but be nice. (Loads a Desert Eagle with bullets and polishes it adoringly.)
Shinrai
Disclaimer: CCS belongs to CLAMP. It doesn't belong to me. Don't sue.
Author's Notes: Lot's of OOC, specially on Syaoran's part. If you think he's mean in the series (not that I mind), he's a whole lot meaner here. And this is AU so don't expect Kero-chan to pop around any second. And though I completely adore Yue, he's not in this fic either. I've had this fic written at the back of my notebook and I decided to post this much to my friend, rei-chan's, encouragement. R&R
Prologue
In a dark alleyway that was nearly swallowed by the night were two men. One kneeled. The other stood. One prayed for his life's redemption. The other held life's judgment in his hands.
The older man, the kneeling man, pleaded with the younger one to spare him. His eyes misting with anxiety and fear. Sweat framed his thin scraggly face as he tried to stop the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His hands were held together in front of him like saints do when in fervent prayer. Each breath becoming hoarser and shorter as he shook at the touch of the gun on his forehead.
His scared pleading eyes were met by blank, hollow ones. That of the young man's. He stood looking down at his prey in blank amusement. And unlike the older man, the hand holding the Lugger was eerily calm.
Another shaking victim…another pleading eyes…another pious prayer…
The young man mused to himself. He lingered at the last thought. It was fascinating how man turns instantly pious at the face of death. A man could spend his whole life ignoring Divine Mercy yet pleads for God's grace and pity when death confronts them with all virtuousness.
It disgusted him in a way. But it only adds up to his convictions. A reason to clear the earth of treacherous, lying bastards. In other words, another reason to kill.
He looked at the eyes of the older man. It wasn't the first time he was faced with eyes like this. Pleading eyes. Scared eyes. Haunted eyes. The eyes in the face of death. Lord knows how many times he has faced this state. This wasn't the first, and this definitely won't be the last.
His lips curved into a small smile at his prey, his young face almost seraphic. He saw the hope building up in the iris of the older man. And just as he must have thought he was spared, he pulled the trigger.
One eerie sound.
Then follows the silence.
The young man looked down on the ground. His victim sprawled lying facedown bathing in his own blood. No emotion reflected on his face.
Another body…
He replaced his gun in the holster hidden under his coat and left without looking back.
Another job done…
Tomorrow he'd be collecting his full payment. The price of killing. Basically the price of one's life. He couldn't argue since the price of life is always well-paid.
He quietly slipped out of the alleyway and melted into the throng of late night shoppers. None of them knew that no hundred meters away from them was a freshly killed son of a bitch. And that the murderer was in their midst.
This was his life.
A damned life, yes. But it pays good.
to be continued
A.N.: Ayt. Review but be nice. (Loads a Desert Eagle with bullets and polishes it adoringly.)