unseen.
Trigger Warning: Blood
“Ah well. Isn’t this awkward.” Lyra tilts her head at the sight of the lone male at the balcony in the night, her eyes creasing lightly as she wiped off her knife of blood, the body beneath her cleanly slaughtered and cut–the only visible signs of her assassination being the wide red line that gaped against the male’s throat.
“Were you ordered to take care of him too?” She tilted her head, wide-eyed and utterly innocent as she moped up the small splatter of blood from the arterial spray on her face. The man had been awake and at his desk when she’d slipped in and slit his throat–a simply, extremely effective way of ending a person’s life without letting them know–a quick, fast but lethal slice from the left to the right of their throat, just deep enough, and quick enough for it to be lethal. Of course, that meant that there would be arterial sprays, jugular blood, and the gurgling sound of the trachea of a victim struggling not to lose a life–as well as the worry of how to return safely without being caught or seen, of which, she had failed miserably-- as she blinked innocently at the male in the balcony, knife flipping lightly over her fingers, head tilted as she assessed the situation with cold, calculative eyes.
Gone was the usual childish lightness that she usually had when interacting with others. What came as the most important to her–as of now– was the thought of how she was supposed to leave this place alive. Her breathing slowed gently, the sound of eerie silence permeating the still night air, the pads of her feet turning soft but silent as she measured her breaths lightly to blinker her own presence. Tension flowed away from her shoulders, every inch of her muscles relaxing as she moved towards the male languidly but smoothly–as though she was but a mere passerby without any ounce of killing intent. Before either of them knew it, she’d moved quickly to stand before the male, the cool blade of her knife pressed against the skin of where his liver lay.
“I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement about this, can’t we?” Her voice was lightly muffled behind the mask, her eyes creasing into crescents as she smiled. “Of course, one move that I see that could endanger me and this knife slips very neatly into your liver. Whether you’d like to die of a hemorrhage or stay alive–that would be entirely up to you, though I’d prefer if it were the latter.”