The woman stared into the gloomy darkness, her hair whipping around her as the trees creaked and bent. She drew a sharp, pointed dagger from the sheath around her thigh and the ruby red gem glinted in the dark. It was as red as the blood of her enemies and as alive as her heart was cold.
She had taken many lives with that dagger and tonight she would take another one, maybe two. She had been tracking the monster for weeks now. Truth be told though, he wasn't really a monster. He was a twenty year old man with a minor drinking problem and a reputation for breaking people's hearts. The woman who had hired her, a young blonde girl with tanned skin, had been his latest victim and if the assassin had anything to say about it, his last. That was her job, after all. She killed those who killed others. And a broken heart was definitely a form of murder, or at least it was for her.
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