An Assassin's Journey Part 1 I'm an Assassin, I kill people who go against me, I serve the people and live to protect society from collapse. Some call me a hero, others call me a villain, I am neither; I am just a guardian to stop the tyranny of our superiors. It's 1876, I'm in England, where I grew up, I'm 26, it's been 5 years since I've been here last, not much has changed. I'm slowly and aimlessly walking around the capital, London. Then suddenly a man walks out from an alleyway adjacent to the large street that I'm walking along, he produces a long slender knife and attempts to drive it through my stomach. I stop him. I push his arm which holds the knife down so his head follows in the direction and he faces down; now that he is in this position the large leather greave on my right wrist brandishes a hidden blade, I penetrate his head with the blade and it goes straight through. Blood splatters on the floor, I lay him there and carry on walking. Never mess with an assassin. I reach an old pub that I remember from my teenage years, above the door is a banner, on it is a large stylised A. I walk in to find it busy except for a corner on the right side of the main room. A man sits there with his large tankard of beer, I take a seat next to him as its the only seat free, he grabs my arm and whispers; 'And who are you?' I find it odd to find this man questioning my presence. 'My name is John Bain, I mean no harm, but by the look of your small dagger attached to the left hand side of your belt I'd think that you did mean harm, am I right?' I answer, shifting the question back to him. He doesn't answer but simply gives me a piece of paper and walks off.
Sorry about the short introduction, it's just to suggest my writing style to the reader and I want feedback before writing too much so that I can improve
Tch, I'll consider writing more, I need a way to transfer a document from my Mac to my iPhone, I enjoy writing so much more on my Mac