In the last few moments of Coil's life, the memories said to spin a tale of one's life never came.. Instead of a calm, feather like descent into oblivion warmed by cherished remembrances Coil was gripped by the same primal panic that grabbed hold of every poor soul she had been sent to end. Had she any sense of humor during this frantic struggle for each pulse of her heart, she might have called it "ironic". But she couldn't focus on anything of higher intelligence than the fierce and futile scramble for longer existence.|
She had been stalking someone new, a young man who had somehow earned the ire of her Patron. Judging by the looks of the fellow, it likely had more to do with the wayward and fleeting attention of her Patron's daughter than any grand scheme, political or financial. Not that this would sway her attention to detail or the result that was sure to come.
He had made a turn, west, down a sad stretch of road and small houses, forcing Coil to drop to the ground level from the sturdier rooves in the newer districts of the city. Her quarry had made no moves to shake her from his path, completely oblivious to her presence and the constant surveilance she kept up over the half hour she followed his trail. She knew where he was going, and could have met him there, waiting to snap shut the justice her long knife provided, but where is the fun in that?
She watched him pass the last home that was occupied as she turned her trademark fine chain around her forearm locking the knife in place, relaxing her wrist and rolling her shoulders.
In one swift motion she sprinted down the alley to her left, the hunt painting a wild grin on her face, half a dozen steps to go. Visualizing the point where he would step out, practically impaling himself on the knife that she would thrust, backhanded into his chest, up and threading through the middle ribs.
Blinding pain sank into her body, seemingly from everywhere, centering and focused on her heart. Cold iron buried itself deep, piercing the flesh of her thudding heart as her foot came down at the end of the alley. Her grin never faded, her eyes barely had time to register the surprised look before the blade was twisted and pulled out, scraping bone, tugging her forward.
Coil fell there, surprised and gasping. Clawing at the hard ground as if it were the way back to life. The young man spoke to her, low and soft, words that echoed into her and yet never truly registered.
Her target, her killer, straightened from his task, his job, similar to hers. He'd done something she had assumed impossible, anticipated and frankly crushed her plans into dust.
He didn't wait and watch as the assissin died. He didn't need to, as he knew his blade struck true. He stepped over her dying body on the way back up the alley, back up the identical path to their Patron's door.
"Retire Coil from service and you'll have your place in my house. You'll be buying your life with her death," their Patron smiled, "always an even exchange."
The young man, Kardin would have to take on a new name after such a high profile kill.
Perhaps something Snake-like...