The night was dark and slightly overcast. Unfortunately the whole day was stormy so the sky had no stormy left for the night. High on a hill a young man looked out his window over the grounds of his estate. With a small glass of brandy in hand he turned back to his room and shed his bathrobe as he slipped under the covers of his bed. Flipping on the local news; he chuckled at the first story he sees. "I love it when the news is about me," he mentions to no one. The cute local anchorwoman a Miss Virginia Dole was presenting a piece about the new local man bringing up the per capita income of their small town.
"Angelo Alar has moved into the old abandoned "house on the hill" and already started renovations to the extensive manor. No one seems to know what attracted this influential young gentleman to our humble burg, but I'm sure I speak for all of us when I express a big welcome to Worthington."
With an audible click the television goes black as Angelo shuts it off. "Must be a slow news day," he chuckled to himself. He had moved away from the hustle and bustle of New York in order to avoid seeing his face every night on the news. Although a local fluff piece is far better than the usual allegations of embezzling and other nonsense any strong businessman generally faces in the course of doing business.
"At least no one is out to get me here," thought the young man as his eyelids started to droop.
"Hmmm," he articulated; "I think this brandy is starting to get to me. It's only ten o' clock!" With those words still hanging in the air, he pulled his new copy of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens off of the bedside table. Despite the complete lack of any magic whatsoever; Mr. Alar decided that his purchase was not as bad as he originally thought. However, he could not remain awake much longer. Angelo was starting to put more effort into staying awake than he was to reading. So, placing the tome on his bedside table and with a big yawn; he turned out the nearby lamp and snuggled under the comforter.
Unfortunately, Angelo was not aware of the figure stalking across the massive lawn and up to his house. The humanoid shape barely perceptible against the dark night made its way up the hill and to one of the many back windows the mansion boasted. Silently it raised the window and slipped inside.
The figure slowly and deliberately moved through the room it found itself in until it spied a stairway leading upstairs. Alighting on the landing, the dark form is guided to Angelo's room by the snores emanating from his open doorway. "Could this be any easier," the shape thought to itself. As it approached the doorway, it noticed the door wasn't open; it was missing. The renovations weren't completely on schedule, although the room appeared to be furnished well enough with a big comfy chair in the corner and the king-sized bed containing the sleeping millionaire. These were the only discernable shapes in the darkness. The moonlight slicing through the solitary window left all else in darkness.
The intruder sidled into the room. It made a path for the foot of the bed moving carefully to avoid stepping on anything and ruining the "surprise." As the shadowed creature stepped into the light pooling at the foot of the bed it became clear it is a thin human in dark clothes. The figure reaches into its tight black top and pulls out a small blowgun. "No use wasting the heavy weaponry on a sleeping target," the trespasser thought soundlessly. However, as the assassin drew breath and released the poisoned dart from the tube; the man turned in his sleep causing the dart to affix itself to the headboard with an audible thunk.
"Shit," the assassin cursed in a barely audible yet decidedly feminine voice.
Getting a hold of herself, she reached back into her shirt to retrieve a second dart. She chided herself for the brief outburst. With a slight smile the killer thought, "I have all night." It seems fate took slight at her presumption and decided she needed to take all night. As the blowgun was once again employed, the sound sleeper pulled one of his many pillows over his head as if to block out the minimal noise the intruder brought with her. The dart smacked into the pillow but instead of going through it became embedded in the expensive memory foam pillow; nothing but the best for this young businessman.
The woman decided enough was enough. She was starting to become irked by the inability of her poisoned barbs to find their mark. She reached towards her back to pull a katana out of the scabbard attached to her back. Stepping lithely upon the bed, she turned the blade to stab at the snoozing target. Unfortunately, Angelo settled into the bed pulling the covers up around his neck. The suddenly shifting ground forced the failing assassin to become a flailing assassin as she fell backwards off the bed. She managed to catch herself on the furniture shrouded in shadow against the wall. Regrettably her sword was not as fortunate as it went spinning out the open doorway. She could see it standing up in the carpet, but as she moved to retrieve it she noticed movement from the corner of her eye.
Angelo was sitting up with his back against his pillows and headboard. "Hello there," he uttered jovially; "it's not nice to enter someone's house uninvited."
"Well I'm being paid a good bit of money to be here," she replied.
"Still, the courteous thing to do would be to announce your presence. Although I guess you did the way you tromped up my stairs."
"That's ridiculous I was quieter than the proverbial dead church mouse."
"Well I have very good --" Thunk, thunk, thunk. ". . . ears. You know I think that might have been even ruder. I was just getting into that book."
The assassin thinking her mark distracted had extended her arm letting loose three kunai she had hidden up her sleeve. Acting quickly Angelo had grabbed the new copy of David Copperfield off the bedside table and used it as a shield. Still, the blades were thrown with enough force to poke through the description on the back.
"Guess I should get the hardcover copy next time."
"Damn, how are you so fast?"
