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The Assassin (Candira & HeartOfTheDarkness)

HeartOfTheDarkness

HeartOfTheDarkness

Promise Nothing, Deliver Less
Joined
Jun 8, 2012
Stumbling through the woods on a rainy night, Christian struggled to remain conscious, bleeding heavily from a stab wound in his chest. It had been about a day since the disaster, and he managed to get away from his pursuers. Finally out of energy, he fell to his knees and his vision became blurry. His life began to flash before his eyes.

For as long as he could remember, Christian had belonged to a secret society of assassins. He never knew his parents, he assumed they were long dead. He was raised by his master and became a killing machine. Through years of rough training, he mastered the art of being a deadly assassin, killing without anyone knowing who did it. He took countless lives, all flawlessly, all for the greater good of preventing large conflicts....or so he was told. Then a couple of days ago, the leader of the organization was overthrown by the man who taught Christian everything he knew. The truth came out and all of the lives he took were only to fuel his masters goal of taking over countries with ease. After a long battle, the majority of the people who opposed his master were killed, and Christian managed to get away, but was seriously injured.

Finally collapsing on he ground, he awaited the kiss of death. His vision went black, everything around him grew cold, and he could barely hear anything. The final things that went through his head were the faces of all of the people he killed. Were they really killed for the greater good? Did he only kill them in cold blood for his master? Soon, all of those thoughts disappeared as he finally lost consciousness, lying in a pool of his own blood.
 
Natasha had been out checking her gardens when she heard something moving in the brush. Frowning, she armed herself with a rather lethal looking bow and went to check on the situation. Whatever it was was moving slowly, so it was likely that it was wounded. Usually, though, larger wild life like deer and the like stayed away from her little house in the woods. She'd gone off grid for peace and quiet, and she'd gotten it in the little glen where she'd built her home. She'd contracted people to help her build as quietly and covertly as possible. There was even a water system here to help her. She went without electricity at the moment, but she was working on solar panels and wind energy.

She farmed and hunted for herself here, relying on as few people as possible to give her what she needed--only going into the cities when absolutely necessary. People rarely came her way in return. So she was quite understandably shocked when she saw a young man dying just beyond her home. Once the initial shock of the sight wore off, she rushed to his side, finding the cause of all the blood rather quickly. "You'll be alright," she said, though she knew he was unconscious. "I'll be right back."

About an hour or so later, she had him in her home, stitched up, bandaged, and cleaned. He was currently resting in her bed, but she didn't mind now that he was cleaned up. She'd removed most of his clothes, leaving him as much modesty as she could, to see if he was injured elsewhere, and to get rid of all the blood. They were currently soaking in the sink she used to wash her clothes. Relieved that he still had vital signs, she set to making up a hearty meal for him. The blood loss would be quite noticeable.

Once she was finished, she set to cleaning her house because at this point, she needed something to keep her busy. The poor man in her room wouldn't get better any faster if she hovered around him, and though it might be nice to have someone to wake up to, she wasn't sure if he was dangerous yet. So for now, she kept him in her room--the door open--as she cleaned, working hard to get rid of any remaining blood.
 
Christian woke up to the smell of food cooking. That was probably the only thing that made him happy in his life, to enjoy his next meal. He slowly opened his eyes only to see that he was in someone's room, and that his chest didn't hurt anymore. Panicking for a moment, he tried to get out of bed only to feel the pain again and see that his wound had been bandaged. He relaxed a little knowing that he was most likely not in the enemy's hands, the room looked a little too relaxing to be a prison or anything. So there was one more question remaining in his head, who was his savior?

He tried once more to get out of bed, stomaching the pain this time, he was able to get out of bed and began moving around. Unable to see his things he started to wonder more about where he was. Maybe he was found by someone, but they were contacting the authorities because they found his weapons. He then faintly remembered dropping a few of his things to lighten his load and to lead his pursuers on the wrong path, but he couldn't remember how much he got rid of. It was more of something he began to wonder than worry. If he got rid of all of his weapons, he would need to find something nearby to improvise.

Deciding to finally see where he was, he stepped out of the room. It was still difficult to move due to his injury, so he moved slowly and did his best to remain quiet so that nobody would notice him. Once out of the room, he looked around seeing that it was just a cozy looking home. It reminded him of a cozy little home he went to, although it was to kill the person that owned the home. Just thinking about what he did brought painful memories, now knowing that everyone he killed was most likely innocent. Shrugging of his painful memory, he wanted to know who it was that saved him and if he should be suspicious of this person. "Hello?" He shouted cautiously.
 
She heard the voice of a man shouting to her and stopped scrubbing her charge's clothes. Drying her hands, Natasha unrolled the sleeves of her blouse. "Hello?" She returned, walking out of the laundry room and into the main room. She saw him standing outside her bedroom and rushed over to him. "Hey, you shouldn't be walking around just yet. You've lost a lot of blood!" Her expression was obviously full of worry as she came toward him. "You should be resting." She didn't touch him, stopping just a few feet short.

He didn't appear to be dangerous, though he certainly had a body capable of violence. Then again, everyone was. "Come and sit down," she said, leading him a little further out and into the kitchen. "That chest wound was pretty impressive, so don't strain yourself too much. I stitched it up pretty well, but it could still reopen." She nodded and got him some water. "Here, drink up." She waited until he'd had some until she took a deep breath.

"I feel like I should introduce myself before we get to far ahead of ourselves. My name is Natasha. I found you when I was checking out my gardens, and brought you back to my house. I don't get many visitors here, so I'm a little out of sorts. I've got stew going on my stove, so that should be ready soon, too." She paused here, obviously flustered. "I'd ask how you're feeling, but given your condition I can guess. I'm washing your clothes," she added, figuring he'd wonder about those. There was a brief awkward pause before she remembered to ask, "So, who are you?"
 
When he first saw the woman approach him, he couldn't deny that he found the woman to be very attractive. He didn't get to see very many women, and when he did, they were either targets or instructors. Sadly most of them were much older than him at the time. When she came towards him, he flinched out of instinct. Whenever someone unfamiliar approached him, it was usually to attack him. When he realized he was in a stance, he quickly went back to just standing there, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He slowly followed her into the kitchen, not really saying anything. He was never really a talker. If it were training, he would be punished for talking out of place, but when she gave him the cup of water, he gratefully drank it up and said "Thank you." He had never really experienced this kind of behavior before, not from anyone. People were either serious with him, or they were afraid of him. There was never any sense of caring when he interacted with others, it made him a bit uncomfortable experiencing this new feeling.

She didn't mention his weapons, so he most likely got rid of them all while running away. That at least answered that question. When she asked him who he was, he wondered what to tell her for a moment. He couldn't simply say he was an assassin, running from a man that killed everyone he knew. He knew was trained to get out of situations like these, but honestly, it never came up out on the field. This was his first human interaction that wasn't related to his profession. "I'm Christian. I was on a trip and I got attacked by some punks. I managed to fight them off, but one of them got a good hit on me with his knife. I didn't have money to go to a hospital, so I tried to walk it off. I guess this is where I ended up because of that decision."

Even he knew it was a bad excuse, but it was the best excuse he had. It didn't matter anyways, if he stayed much longer then she'll end up dead. "Thank you for your kindness, but I should be on my way. Can you please return my belongings?" He asked as he tried to get up, but there was a shock of pain that forced him to sit back down and reach for his wound in pain
 
"Well Christian, I don't really have electricity here yet. I'm working on it, but that means that your clothes won't be dry for a few hours," she said, not buying his story for a minute. He was in trouble and he didn't want her to get involved. That was fine, but she was already involved. Besides, with an injury like that he wouldn't get far before he needed to stop again. When he tried to get up, she saw the pain that shot through him.

"Really, you shouldn't push yourself, Christian. Just rest here for awhile okay? That wound isn't exactly small. And you've lost a lot of blood. You wouldn't make it far before you collapsed, and I just can't have that on my conscience." She smiled and then went to her oven, pulling out the big pot with some potholders from nearby. The wonderful aroma of cooked meat and vegetables filled the air as she lifted the lid. "Have some stew, rest awhile. You're safe here." She smiled and got a large bowl down, filling it with the freshly made stew. She grabbed a spoon, sprinkled the stew with salt and set it in front of him.

"The least you can do is eat for me."
 
She was right, he was in no condition to go anywhere, but he didn't want her any more involved than she already was. Even if his pursuers gave up on him, he felt like he had to finish the job. Knowing that his master could be putting his plan into motion already, it made him uneasy knowing that he was only a puppet this whole time.

Then it hit him, he felt useless. He was injured, hungry, tired, weak. In the past, he was able to find a way out, whether it was to trick to captor and catch him off guard, or find small ledges to climb up from and continue climbing until there's a way out. There was no captor to trick, nothing to climb. He was backed into a corner, and didn't know how to get out. His master fooled him from the start, and everything he ever knew was a lie.

The smell of food did calm him down a little though. He couldn't remember the last time he ate anything home cooked. When Natasha brought him a bowl of stew and a spoon, he began digging in. It was hot, but it didn't matter to him, it was delicious. Once he was finished, he mumbled another "Thank you", and held his bowl wanting seconds.
 
"You're welcome," she said, sipping some water from the counter. It was pretty clear this wouldn't be enough for him though. Besides, she really should be pushing food and water on him. She refilled his glass, took his bowl and refilled it before giving them back. "I have to finish scrubbing your clothes so I can get out the blood stains. I think you're better off with a new shirt, but until I can get you one, I'll just stitch that up for you. When I come back from hanging up your clothes, I expect that second bowl to be gone." She gave him a stern look and then walked out of the kitchen, back to her laundry.

She wondered what kind of man he was--what he'd really been caught up in that he was so worried about. For the time being, though, it was best to just let him work it through himself. Besides, she had no right sticking her nose into his business. She kept herself busy, scrubbing the stains out of his clothes before she rinsed them out, wringing them out for all she was worth. She put them in a basket and went outside to hang them up on her clothes lines. When she was done, she came back to the kitchen, wondering if perhaps he'd done what she asked.
 
He simply nodded his head and grumbled a bit when she gave him a stern look. Most people that talked to him like that were either his superiors or someone he was going to kill soon. He wasn't sure how to look at her. She didn't make him do any work, and she didn't give him any reason to wan to hurt her. She was just a beautiful woman that decided to help him in his time of need. Once Natasha left, he continued eating his food, thinking about the woman who saved his life.

Once she returned, his bowl was empty, and was washing it down with the glass of water. He looked up at her, his face a little red. "Thank you for helping me. Is there anything I can do to repay you?" He said to her, almost mumbling. It wasn't like him to offer help to someone else, but she helped him so much already. He knew it wasn't right to simply take everything she had given him and run off. At least, he hoped he could do something even with his bad injury.
 
Poor guy. He really was in a spot. He clearly didn't know how to relax, either. "For now, you can go back to bed and rest. You need to regain your energy, and the best way to do that is sleep. You'll be taking it pretty easy around here for awhile, but I'm sure I can find something for you to help me with." She smiled softly and took his bowl from him, rinsing it out and setting it aside to wash later with her own. She filled it and got herself a glass of water too.

"If you want to look around the house, I don't mind. You're already in my bed, after all. Just don't push yourself, okay?" With that she leaned back into her chair and started in on her stew, pleased with the way it turned out. "Tomorrow, maybe you can help with my solar panel project." It wasn't really labor intensive--he could do it in bed if necessary. But now, she wanted him to sleep off most of the pain--she was sure he would be feeling it for quite awhile.
 
He nodded and stood up. He suddenly felt tired. It must've come from everything he had been through, the lack of time to relax, the intense guilt he felt when the truth of his profession was revealed. Making his way to her room he turned back and gave Natasha a weak smile. "Thanks again." He began to think to himself as he went into the bedroom. Had it really been that long since he last smiled? It just felt so odd to make that facial expression, was he really that much of a robot?

All of these thoughts just hit him harder and harder, his life no longer had much meaning to it. Lost in his thoughts, he lost his balance and fell flat on his front. He landed on his chest and the pain rushed to him like never before. "DAMMIT ALL!!!" He shouted, trying to get up, but he didn't have the strength to life himself. It was painful to be in the position he was in, and it was even more painful to know how worthless he felt. One of the top assassins, now struggling to get up after falling over.
 
She returned the smile, feeling sorry for him. He must have been through a lot. She was just starting on her stew when she heard a rather loud thud and his frustrated cursing. Rather than leave him there, however, she set down her spoon and rushed in. "Are you alright?" Natasha was by his side in an instant, gently rolling him over to his back, looking down at him from her knees. Her red hair fell around them as she checked to see if his wound had opened again. Thankfully it hadn't. Her blue eyes locked with his and she sighed in relief. "Well, I imagine you're probably embarrassed, but you shouldn't be. It's kind of a miracle you were up and walking around at all in your condition." So she got up and reached down for his hands, pulling him back up and guiding him to her bed.

"Call me if you need anything, Christian. I won't be far." With that, she left him alone to deal with his feelings on his own. She closed the door a little so he could have more privacy, and then dug into her stew, wondering what she should do about him.
 
It was embarrassing for his to have to be rescued like that. He took her hand and got into the bed. After she left, he felt this rush of anger running towards him. Where did it all go wrong? He was satisfied with his life. His targets knew to fear him. His comrades respected him. It wasn't paradise, but he was satisfied. Then his mentor decided to turn the tables on him, and now he was nothing more than a weakling. It made him want to go on a rampage. Killing, it seemed to be all he was good for. Just a soulless killer, and now that he was tossed aside, he had no purpose anymore.

At least there was something good he found in all of this. If this never happened, he probably would've never met Natasha. She helped him and cared for him, and they barely knew each other. And she was so beautiful. Her soft red hair against his cold shaved head. Her beautiful blue eyes locked on to his soulless brown eyes. He started feeling warm inside thinking about her, thoughts of her made him feel......happy. As his eyes grew heavy, he found it a little easier to fall asleep, keeping only thoughts of Natasha in his head.
 
Later that evening, she went to check on her charge and found him fast asleep. She smiled softly, and felt relieved that he was finally getting some peace. She watched him from the doorway for a little while longer before she got a glass of water to place on the night stand in case he woke up and needed it. He was so innocent like this. He was handsome in his own way, but she could tell he'd been through a lot. It was in his eyes. So for now, she took her pajamas from the closet, with some pillows and a blanket.

For tonight, she slept on the couch. A dreamless sleep greeted her like always, and the next morning she woke up early. Dim light filled her house through the window treatments, which she pulled open to reveal the day. It was fairly nice outside. Yawning, she stretched a bit and then headed into the kitchen. She wore a soft t-shirt that came to the top of her thighs and a long pair of light pants. Her red hair was only a little messy as she wondered what she should make for breakfast.

Christian would still be a bit weak from yesterday, so a nice meal would be good. She could go to the market in town to get some things, but that would mean leaving him alone. She had fruit and some sweet breads she could make into something. She had some juice in the cellar where she kept what she needed to be cool. Yes, she would do that. She put on some shoes and went to the cellar to get some juice and jerky. Once those were in the house, she hurried to get his clothes down from the line. "All better," she said, pleased with her abilities to get rid of stains.

She folded them and brought them inside, setting them on the counter as she put together some breakfast. When she was finished, she set it all on a tray and took it into her room, wondering if he was awake yet.
 
It was pretty much another dreamless sleep for him, but somehow, it felt more relaxing. When he woke up, he felt like he had a lot more energy than he did yesterday. After stretching a little, making sure that he didn't overdue it because of his injury, the door opened and Natasha came in with a tray of breakfast. Different fruits and what looked like sweet breads with a glass of orange juice on the side. He felt his stomach grumble the second he saw the food.

"Thank you." He said a little louder than he usually did, and he gave another faint smile. Seeing all of this, it made him admire Natasha in a way. She had such a simple life with very few worries. It made him wonder how he would've turned out if his life. Would he have been able to have such a happy life? What if he met Natasha in that life? And why was Natasha suddenly so important to him? He couldn't explain it, but every time he saw her, all of his problems seemed to vanish. It was as if by the mere sight of her brought joy to him.

When she put down the food, he began eating, savoring her food more this time.
 
She smiled at him when he said thank you. It appeared as though it was getting easier for him to say. He seemed to have more color now, too. Rest and food were apparently what he needed. "I'm glad you seem to be feeling better. You look better, at least." The woman left him to eat as she went into her closet for a pair of jeans and shirt to wear. "Your clothes are dry now, if you want them. I'll set them at the foot of the bed for you." With that she left once more. She dressed in her living room and then folded up the sleeping materials to bring back to her closet. She left the bedding there, and instead returned with his clothes and her pajamas.

"Here you go, Christian." She set his clothes down and smiled. "Did you sleep well?"
 
When she came back, the food was gone and he was drinking the glass of juice. It was all delicious. The bread was like a pound cake, and it went well with the fruits. When she saw his clothes, he felt hesitant. He didn't know what he wanted to do anymore. At first, the only thing on his mind was getting his revenge on his master, foiling his plans. When he felt so helpless, he simply wanted to fun away, leave everything behind and try to start a new life somewhere. Now the he was here with Natasha, he was starting to consider staying with her. For the first time in his life, he had a choice to do something, and he didn't know what to do.

He knew that he'd still have to heal. The injury he received could take weeks to recover, so it wasn't like he had to decide this instant. He looked up at her. "I think I can try to help you with that solar thing you wanted." He felt like he should help her. It wasn't because he felt that he should repay her, but he wanted to help her. He wanted to try to please her.
 
She smiled when she saw the food was gone. Yes, he should be recovering nicely with all of that. It was good to know that he was determined to keep on living. Kind of refreshing, actually. That he wanted to help her spoke to what kind of man he was. Maybe he simply felt gratitude for what she'd done, or maybe he felt like he had to do something to repay her. But it was good to know that he wanted to do something with his time instead of loafing about.

"It's good to know you like my food. You'll be earning it if you help me with my solar panels. I'm trying to be self sufficient and get energy independently. I know I can do Solar panels pretty easily, but they're not exactly reliable sources of power, so I'm working on wind as well." Natasha tilted her head and thought for a moment. "Mmm, you should probably stay in bed or at least sit for most of the day. I can run and get any supplies you need while we're working. Oh, and thank you for offering," she said with a grin.
 
Seeing her smile like that made him blush a little bit. It made him feel warm inside again, but he didn't know why. When she said she had to leave to get supplies, he wanted to come along, but he hesitated. The first reason was because of his injury. She wanted him to rest, and if his cut reopened, she'd couldn't fix it if they were in town. The other reason was the fact that there were people looking for him. They could see him in town and follow him back to Natasha's house. If that were to happen, there was a good chance that Natasha will get killed if they find that she has been helping him.

He just nodded and allowed himself to remain in bed. As much as he wanted to help her, he also wanted to please her, and it would appear that resting would please her. When he listened to her, it did seem like she was pretty well off on her own, even without much electricity. "If there's a river nearby, you can also get power from running water. Unless something happens to block the water, that should be able to constantly gather power." He said without really thinking.
 
His comment about hydro power made her smile. "I thought about that, too, but I'm not sure how feasible that would be. There aren't a lot of water sources around here, and it's more difficult for me to build that kind of energy gathering device. I should probably look into it though," she said. Shrugging, the redhead got to her feet and took the tray from him now that he was finished. "I'll just do the dishes and get you all set up to make the panels," she said, hurrying out to do just that. When Natasha returned, she brought him all the materials and set them within reach. "Okay, so I wrote out some instructions for you here," she said, handing him the paper. "Well, really, I wrote them for myself, but you'll be using them. If you can get a start on them, I'll run to town to pick up some more supplies and I'll be back before you know it."
 
Christian read the instructions she gave to him. He then looked at the materials. It didn't seem to complicated, and he started putting things together, it really started to look good. He heard Natasha leave, but he simply continued working as he requested. He wasn't sure whether it was the fact that the paper had good instructions on it, or that it simply made sense to him somehow. Within about a half hour, he used up most of the pieces and built a stack of multiple solar panels that could go on to her roof.

When he was done, he wanted to do more to please her, but she wasn't around to give him something to do. He could always wander the house, but it wasn't really his business to dig into someone else's privacy. He decided that if his wound wasn't going to heal sooner, then he would have to just build up a higher tolerance to the pain. He got out of bed, laid down on the ground, and began doing push ups. He started out slowly, trying to get use to the pain. When it didn't hurt much anymore, he began speeding up. All he wanted to do was to return to his original potential and become more useful to Natasha.
 
Natasha spent time selecting the goods she wanted and needed, deciding that she could buy Christian another shirt...and probably some other clothes too. Since she knew what size he wore now, she picked a few pairs of jeans and some t-shirts out, plus some pants to sleep in. She didn't mind spending the money. After all, how often did one fall into such life-threatening situations as he had? If he didn't want them, she'd just use them for patches and the like. Shrugging, she got what food she needed and then headed home.

When she arrived, she called out to Christian, wondering if he was doing alright. She put away the food she'd bought and then brought the bags of clothes in to him. Of course, when she saw the panels she was pretty surprised. "Well, it looks like you made quite a dent," she joked. "Hey, where are you?" she asked, not seeing him in bed.
 
Christian locked himself in the bathroom for a little while. While he was trying to work out, he seemed to have reopened his wound, and it was bleeding again. It wasn't as bad as it was when the initial wound was made, but his bandages were soaked in blood. Cursing under his breath, he heard Natasha come home. She was going to see that he wasn't in bed, and that he injured himself even further. He wanted to do his best to avoid that.

Grabbing some tissues, he tried to soak up the blood, but all it did was create blood soaked tissues. The blood continued to flow, and the mess only got bigger. Finally, he just gave up. He opened the door and allowed Natasha to see his screw up. "I wanted to become more useful, but I only reopened my wound." He said, his face red again. His weak smile was slightly bigger, thinking that his situation was a little funny. He wanted to help, but he made things worse instead.
 
Natasha set the clothes down on her bed and looked around. After awhile, she heard his voice from her bathroom. When she saw his wound, she couldn't help but gasp. Her blue eyes met his as he told her what seemed obvious. His reasons for doing so were touching, but also stupid. At least he was smiling about it. She shook her head and held up her hand. "Just stay there. I'll get my bag." With that, she went to the kitchen for the bag of medical supplies she kept handy. She grabbed more gauze from a grocery bag and then headed into the bathroom to deal with it.

"I appreciate that you were trying to help," she said, reaching into the bag and putting on some latex gloves. "It's a good thought, really. But it's not smart to push yourself after you get a big injury like this one. Even if you can push, your body needs to rest." She got what she needed for stitching and then pulled away his old bandages. "Wanna tell me what happened?" she asked, coming closer to him as she removed the old stitches that had reopened. It wasn't the most pain-free experience, but that was what you got for not listening.

She deftly removed the stitching before putting it in a plastic bio hazard bag and sealing it. Next, she set to stitching him up all over again. Her fingers moved quickly, smoothly, as though she'd done it a million times before. When the wound was finally closed she sighed and cleaned off her instruments, removing the gloves and putting them in a small bio hazard bag as well. She would burn these things later, like she did with most of her trash.

With that, she started cleaning up around his wound, wiping away blood gently. She looked up at him now and then, wondering just what he had been thinking. He'd wanted to be more useful? How did that lead to reopening a wound? Sighing, she worked until he was all clean. Finally, she bandaged him up again using extra gauze to pad the wound, just in case. "Now, can I trust you to take it easy? Or do I have to tie you down?" she teased.
 
Christian watched as she fixed his wound and cleaned the blood. It wasn't really all that painful, removing the broken stitches and restitching it back up. He wasn't really sure how to feel when she scolded him. It was nothing like when he was scolded by superiors. Back then, he would've been severely punished. Here, it was as if she was teasing him.

When she asked him how it happened, he shrugged and looked at her. "I felt powerless, even when trying to do something to help you out. So I tried to get my body back to full potential, or at least endure more of the pain so that I could do more work. I did that by exercising, like push ups and sit ups. Afterwards, I noticed that my bandages were bleeding, so I must've reopened it sometime while I exercised."

It was nice having her this close to him, but he felt like he let her down. It was a worse pain that any of his punishments. It was as if Natasha mastered an even more painful way to torture him without physically harming him. "I'm sorry." He looked down and went back to the bedroom once his wound was all cleaned up.
 
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