Free Web NovelChapter 44: A bad dream
The night was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning wood and flesh.
A luxurious house on the street was engulfed in flames, its orange glow lighting up the dark sky.
The fire crackled loudly, consuming the furniture, walls, and the lives that once lived inside.
Around the burning house, a lot of corpses littered the ground.
Men, women, and even a few children lay scattered in unnatural positions with their bodies twisted in the pain of their final moments.
Some had been cut down cleanly, others ripped apart with brutal force.
Blood soaked the dirt, mixing with the ash that fell from the sky like dark snow.
In the center of the carnage, a man stood completely still.
A heavy, pickaxe-shaped weapon rested on his shoulder, its blade stained with fresh blood that dripped slowly onto the ground.
His face was hidden behind a simple black mask that only revealed his cold, emotionless eyes.
He walked forward slowly, his boots crunching on the gravel and broken glass.
The fire roared behind him, but he paid it no mind.
His gaze was fixed on two particular corpses lying side by side near the entrance of the burning house.
A man and a woman.
The man was the target and the woman was his wife, caught in the crossfire.
Both of them were killed quickly with their throats slit in a single motion.
The assassin leaned down with the pickaxe-shaped weapon against the man’s cheek and drew a mark, a simple, jagged symbol that looked like a broken pickaxe.
He did the same to the woman’s cheek, carving the same mark into her pale skin.
The mark was his signature. It told the world exactly who had done this.
He stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his weapon on the man’s shirt before resting it back on his shoulder.
His eyes scanned the burning house one last time, making sure no one survived.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked away into the night, his figure disappearing into the shadows as the house continued to burn behind him.
As the man left, a small figure emerged from the rubble near the burning house.
A little girl, no older than eight or nine, slowly stood up.
Her clothes were torn and covered in ash, her face streaked with dirt and tears.
Her small hands trembled as she clutched a broken piece of wood, all that remained of her favorite toy.
Her innocent eyes were filled with confusion and terror as she looked around the destruction.
She coughed as she stumbled forward, her bare feet stepping on broken glass and blood-soaked dirt.
She walked to her father and mother’s corpses, the two bodies lying side by side near the entrance of the burning house.
Their throats had been slit cleanly, and the assassin’s mark was carved into their cheeks.
The little girl fell to her knees beside them, her small hands reaching out to touch their cold faces.
"Papa... Mama..." she whispered as tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.
"As I thought, there was a rat hiding here."
Hearing the voice, the girl’s eyes shrank in horror.
She glanced up slowly and her tear-streaked face froze in terror as she saw the assassin standing a short distance away.
His silhouette was dark against the flickering flames, the pickaxe-shaped weapon still resting on his shoulder, stained with fresh blood.
In fear, she scrambled backward, her small hands and knees scraping against the blood-soaked dirt.
She got to her feet and ran, her bare feet pounding against the rough ground as she fled into the darkness.
The assassin’s gaze narrowed as he watched her run.
He looked up at the sky, where the sun was slowly rising, painting the horizon in faint hues of orange and red. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
"It’s above my paycheck," he muttered under his breath.
Without chasing her, he turned and left, his figure disappearing into the shadows as the house continued to burn behind him.
The little girl ran barefoot, her small legs carrying her as fast as they could.
Blood dripped down her legs from cuts on her feet caused by the broken glass and sharp stones on the ground.
She didn’t stop and didn’t look back.
"Papa... Mama..." she cried. "Don’t leave me... please..."
---
Arwen was sitting on the plane, her head resting against the window as she blinked slowly, trying to shake off the lingering haze.
’What a bad dream...’ she thought, rubbing her temple. ƒreewebɳovel.com
The plane was beginning its descent, and the captain’s voice came over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final approach to the airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened, tray tables are stowed, and seatbacks are in the upright position. We should be landing in approximately ten minutes. Thank you for flying with us today."
Arwen fastened her seatbelt and looked out the window.
The plane slowly descended and the engines hummed as it prepared to touch down.
She let out a soft sigh, trying to push the bad dream out of her mind.
The plane touched down smoothly, the wheels screeching against the runway as it slowed down.
As the passengers began to disembark, Arwen stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
She stepped off the plane and into the terminal, the cool morning air greeting her as she made her way toward the exit.
She took her mobile phone from her pocket and switched it on.
Seeing the calls and messages from Klein and Cynthia, she blinked in panic.
E-Eh? He is already home?
---
Klein, who was sitting on the chair at the dining table, frowned slightly as he looked at his mobile.
A small worry creased his brow as he stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button again.
Cynthia walked to him from the kitchen and placed the coffee cup in front of him.
She noticed his frown and tilted her head, her white hair falling over one shoulder "What’s with that face, Kay?"
Klein sighed, putting the phone down on the table as he looked up at her.
"I’ve been calling Arwen but it says switched off. She should have been back by now from her night shift."
Cynthia stood in front of him with an ’annoyed’ look on her face, "How dare you think about other girls when your ’girlfriend’ is right here?"
Eh? He glanced up her with a chuckle "Cyn-"
She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she reached down and pulled up her tank top along with her bra in one smooth motion, revealing her soft breasts.
They bounced slightly as they were freed, her dark-caramel skin glowing in the morning light.
Klein’s eyes widened slightly, but before he could say anything, Cynthia grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face forward, burying it between her breasts.
"I’m going to choke you," she said playfully as she pressed his face deeper into her soft, warm cleavage.
"Since you’re thinking about Arwen when I’m right here... I’ll punish you like this."
His face was smothered between her breasts, the soft, warm flesh pressing against his cheeks and nose.
Cynthia held his head there, "You like this, don’t you? Being smothered by my breasts. You always stare at them when you think I’m not looking."
Klein’s hands came up to rest on her hips, holding her steadily as he nuzzled his face deeper into her cleavage.
He kissed the soft flesh between her breasts, his lips brushing against her skin in a lazy, affectionate way.
Cynthia let out a soft, pleased sigh, "Stay like this for a while. This is your punishment for thinking about other girls when I’m right here."
