Damien

I hid behind a small bush looking for someone. That someone’s codename was C. Top assassin and hit-girl of our level 2 class for kid assassins. Genius and a loved assassin by everybody.

Well, not everybody. You could hear, "Hey C!" or "C, my girl, want to spar with me!"

Even the shrimpy level ones hang on her every word. She’s more popular than all the level 3’s combined.

Maybe it’s because we would rarely see a level 3.

That’s what they call her. I call her a bunch of names, including Princess Plastic, Whiner-girl and some others that would get my throat slit if any adult heard me say it, in ANW or not.

In our organization, recruits were only known by their first letter of their name, as you can probably guess.

So, back to C. Why didn’t we get along so well?

Let’s just say that the first time we met, I ended up with a black eye and she ended up with a leg bruise. We were both 5 at that time, but she swung as hard as she does now, and even better. I remember going home with my whole head hurting at once, and I couldn’t even move, but I really couldn’t tell my parents that I have a headache because an assassin nearly broke my head.

I honestly wonder how I keep this from my parents, especially that night.

I saw her lurking about for a sparring partner, but I had to stifle a laugh as all the other assassins steered clear from where she was standing. They also knew her strength.

Now that I think about it, the only other person who could beat her ruthless attitude was our leader, Poppy.

Poppy, (a codename) is a petite woman with delicate hands, but with an attitude so strong, she would make all the Disney, Marvel, and Netflix villains cry. I’m pretty sure most of the cartoon villains were based on her, if you lived to tell the tale.

Poppy is Clara’s mother, but I was the only kid who know that’s true. I know that for a fact that Clara’s also here, but because of the rules, it’s ridiculously hard to find anybody.

I started looking for C again, but she had mysteriously disappeared, like she does every night.

I tried following her once, but Poppy grabbed me by my shoes and told me to go back to work.

I really wonder how people actually deal with her when she’s not an assassin.

After C vanished I made the mistake of the year by telling Poppy that I had no sparring partner.

You’re wondering, “what in the world is he talking about?”

I’m part of this secret organization who takes in kids to be assassins called assassins nationwide, or ANW. Yes, kids.

Poppy yelled at us to talk about our ceremonies. It’s where we prove our loyalty to assassins nationwide.

It’s a five-day ceremony, where you get new weapons, your special power and where you earn your prestigious codenames. I just turned 13, so I would have my ceremony soon.

She yelled at us again to keep working since it was nearly 3 a.m, when I had to go home. She lifted me by the shirt and yelled at everybody again to see if they could spar with me.

Trust me, Clara’s mom is NOT like this. She wouldn’t even hurt a fly when I saw her in the daytime. She protects her identity pretty well. Too well, if you ask me.

As I got dropped to the floor like a little kid, a small sphere dropped out of my pocket. Before I even had a chance to pick it up, it exploded into a nasty gas.

Curse my pranks.

Here’s the backstory of how I started pranking.

Ever since I was born, my mom was worried that I couldn’t speak. And I didn’t. She ran around to every doctor, psychologist, and therapy person she could, trying to find a solution.

One person, Dr. Gorgon, told my mom not to worry. I just have a shy personality, and that I would start talking soon. He was right.

Even though I didn’t like talking to people, I loved pranking them. Other than my stuff I needed for here, and school, I always carried an assortment of gags, pranks, jokes, you name it, I got it.

I tried to run away, but Poppy grabbed me by the collar and gave a death stare. I looked around at everybody else, and they had matching glares on their faces too. I was dead if we had to partner with somebody today.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Sneaking out, Netflix, and Kidnappers