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.