"Grandma, I'm here."
The grand house stood unusually silent as the young man walked in through the front door. Curious hazel eyes looked around as he took slow careful steps. No jingling of the small yorkie's collar as the dog ran around the hall in search of someone to play with. No pots and pans of the cooks in the kitchen working for his demanding grandmother. There weren't even marching steps of the butlers or guards that always littered the house.
With a sigh the young man set down his stuff on a side table of the spacious living room and threw himself onto the couch. Either his grandmother had gotten away from his nosy questions again or an emergency came up that required the attention of the whole family. But then where were the guards and the house keep?
"Assassin house keepers! While the headmaster is away they keep the house safe and keep everything in it's place. Maybe they run up walls to clean chandeliers and change light bulbs." A laugh escaped him as he quickly reached over so he could grab his notebook to write down these notes. It didn't sound very likely but then again what he wrote wasn't always the truth. The family had to keep some secrets, as his momma always told him.
"Maybe they hide guns in the pantry and ammo in the cupboards, underneath the tea cups."
A pen and a notebook were wiggled out of the messy backpack with a rabbit patch sewn onto it and he wrote furiously, his attention drawn into the world of his imagination.
There were two large groups of 15 mercenaries were coming from both the front and back of the house. They wasted no time in trying to be quiet and some of them were so loud that the dogs from five houses down were starting to bark.
"Fifteen men in the back perimeter. Three armed with large club-like weapons." It was the main cook that spoke up from her post near the small country styled window. There was a quick voice on the other side of the house and she gave a nod and motioned to a larger male.
Immediately he reached into the cupboard and pulled out four guns and handed them out to the three other cooks then reached back in to pull out three more. Two of those were handed to the cook on the counter who checked the bullets.
"Aim for the large ones first, they are harder to take down in hand to hand combat." A round of affirmatives came from the armed chiefs behind her and the round of shots went off in unison.
Hazel eyes opened wide and the male jumped off the couch and stared down at the paper and pen that had fallen to the floor. Slowly a hand reached up and clutched the cloth of his shirt that lay just over his heart to try and calm himself down. The noise had sounded too loud and was too close for his liking.
The sound of glass shattering made him turn his head and quickly run to where the noise was coming from. Maybe someone had thrown something into a window, there were kids that liked to come down this street and harass the people living in the houses, he should know. He used to be one of them.
And that was the sound of someone hitting a body part against the corner of the old oak table that held up the picture of him, his sister and his baby brothers.
He turned down the hall the noise was coming from and almost ran right into the shadowed body of the burgler. No, not burgler. Burglers didn't wear worn out leather gloves and tight clothes that were easy to move around in.
Well.. okay, he didn't know what exactly they wore but it wasn't this. Maybe.
And they certainly did not look at him like a deer caught in a headlight.
"Hey. Um.. are you a" The sentence remained unfinished as the lithe male, or maybe female, turned around and ran out the way they came with a hand on an earpiece.
"Someone remains in the house. Distraction team fail" And they were gone around the corner.
"WAIT UP!" With a rush of adrenaline he climbed out the window and followed the path he thought the other had taken through his grandfathers' favorite flower patch and into the vegetable garden. He stopped in the middle of the stone path to the water fountain and the garden shed to find that he was alone.
"Damn it!" In a frantic search he looked on top of the shed then on top of the house. There was the shadow of the person and he took off back to the side of the house then scaled up the fence and jumped onto the small room of the kitchen that was used as a walk in pantry.
"Don't look down, just for another foot holder and ledge in reach."
In a matter of minutes he was on the roof, eyes closed tight as he tried to get used to the feeling of being high up.
"Never be scared, Michael." He could hear his momma's voice whisper into his ear just like when he was little kid high up in a tree. "Just trust in your balance and keep your goal in mind."
He gave a nod to the air and took off down the middle of the roof only opening his eyes when he was three steps into his running. Up ahead he could see the other staring at him then looking down almost like a panicked rabbit stuck in a toy chest.
As soon as he got into hearing range of the other he held up his hands and gave a weak smile while he tried not to show how breathless he was.
A flash of metal and there was a small pistol pointed into his face and he nearly dropped down laughing. Of course this would happen, what else did he expect from assassins? It was one thing his momma always warned him about; Every assassin has a weapon and they know how to use it.
"A-ah, calm down. I'm unarmed." Slowly he reached down and patted his pockets before holding his hands up again. "In fact, I don't even know why I chased you." Finally he allowed his legs to give out on him and he sat down on the roof over looking the empty street and yards below. "What's your name?"
Bright green eyes widened at the question and he let out a soft chuckle. It probably wasn't the best conversation starter to an enemy assassin but hey it was a start and it wasn't as if he was trained in this sort of thing- he was only a writer with an interesting family.