The glint of a knife in the dark.

I tighten my grip, leather cool against my rough hands.

The brief flash of cold, unfeeling eyes.

I see him tremble as my gaze pierces into his soul.

The blade slips easily into his defenseless body.

I hear him gasp for breath as my knife drains away his life.

The blood flows slowly down his body.

I silently slip away as he succumbs to the darkness.

So it is for all condemned to a discrete execution; there is no warning for the damned before falling prey to Lord Beckett's clerk—to me.