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#1 Anak


    we spent life inside of our heads

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Posted 06 April 2012 - 12:38 PM


It wasn't as if all of the assassins in the world had never, even if somewhat, shyed away from where they were assigned targets before. But the sense of foreboding lingering around this place was on another scale, a beckoning aura that pulled you in and spat you out straight after. To this day, the twenty-third day of the celestial phase 'Vima', 5086, Riakmar continued his long term of bewilderment in the particular manner. He then dismissed the thought, walking on through the corridors, not even bothering to look back at those doors that allowed one to enter the building.

There weren't many doors about the interior, just the exit, the main office and two other doors probably leading to piles of folders and important papers. The walls were painted a bleached white, the paint noticeably wearing away from many nervous people scratching on it. There were no benches or chairs in the hallway, implying that every visit would be a lonely one. The exit and the doors to the main office were made of glass, surrounded by navy blue plastic. The other two being horrendously made from the wood of a Linapo tree, a cowering beige.

Riakmar gave a smirk as we walked past them. How anyone could be unsure of how their job, at the current point, would carry out, he didn't know. As he approached the double glazed doors of 'terror', he checked to see if his apparent businessman was there. The pale, black haired fellow was sitting somewhat contently in his grey chair, arms crossed, ready to pass over someone to murder. Riakmar nodded, walked inside and sat adjacent the wondrous man who caused horror to many people through personal workmen.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the process, Riakmar," The suited man started. "From what I've heard, many big people seem to...'favour' you." His bright hazel eyes were unmoving, what was expected of people like him these days.
"It seems you've heard them correctly, as many people can be unreliable," Riakmar took a breath. "People which die quickly." Acknowledging the man's failed attempt to hide his eagerness in the conversation, Riakmar stopped himself from giving a sly laugh.
"Well, I believe it's time to get down to business," Fumbling through a folder on his lap as he replied, his eyes never moving from the assassin. He then slapped two photos on the desk, Riakmar, assuming that these were the targets he was being assigned to, quickly studied them.

"Like most, they're probably not what they look like. Easy," Riakmar somewhat mocked them, his face being somewhat emotionless.
"You've probably been awaiting this question." He announced.
"I'm sure I have."
"Why?" The answering man faltered. It was as if he had the exact reply, yet paused between looking foolish and starting the sentence. He was lost. Riakmar reminded himself that this meant his 'boss' was warned of a long and touchy subject, or that he was frail and soft. The latter would be extremely dissapointing in someone who could possess great power in people.

"I'd rather not dwell into a long story on the account of such short time," Riakmar sounded a big gust of relief in his head. His faith in the man had returned.
"So what are their names?" He queried.
"Aénex Makander and Keámá Oritra," Riakmar stared down the photos for a few seconds. The names were fitting. If ever they were, the job would be challenging. He grunted.
"Not that you'd need to, but I advise to be cautious," The pale man warned. "These adversaries are powerful and wise, it may take a while to track them, even longer to eliminate."

Riakmar smirked. "Oh. I'm sure that they won't be a problem." After a pause, the man nodded at him, a sign that allowed him to leave. Riakmar then stood up, taking the two photos, and walked outside without uttering another word. He paced down the corridors once more, knowing that this wouldn't be the last time he would see them. He pushed the glass doors as far as they would go, and stepped onto burning, sunbathed sand. Riakmar looked up at the clouds. Aénex and Keámá. I'm coming. With that single thought he left the torn remains of the two photos, one boy, and one girl, on the doorstep of a large building filled with torment and disgust, and wallked away.

Aénex and Keámá.

He's coming...

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