Heartless

A body made of steel

Muscles like stone

A hatred you can feel

She creeps across the snow

Graceful and quick

Slips neither once or twice

Her job description is clear

And when she fulfills it

Screams no one will hear

Her smile is fleeting

But beautiful and real

She looks so innocent

That you could never tell

Watch your back

Make no enemies

Or surely you'll be next

It's not personal

It's just a way of life

When you live by the knife

You can never think twice

Cinthia

The great assassin.



Her name was Cinthia Rodel, and she had always loved horror stories. Her favorite part of camping was always when they sat around the fire and began to share tales of murder and mystery. She always hoped that one day, just maybe she would be a part of a real life horror story, something that adults would tell their kids to scare them. Cinthia might have looked cute, but she had a wicked side. This side of her was not often seen, but was always there. She knew how to keep it well hidden, and this wickedness developed as she aged.

By the time Cinthia was 17 years old, there was no doubt in anyone�s mind that she was a cold hearted killer. She could laugh at hurt and stare every fear in the eye and overcome it. She was ruthless. She was strong. She was a problem. One day, her parents finally gave up on her, and sent her away to the Arctic to a boot camp. Cinthia escaped.

Four months later and Cinthia was a master of living off the land. She could find shelter in an instant and send even the fiercest of creatures running, such was her malice. She killed for sport and found joy in it.

One day, Cinthia unexpectedly came across a camp. This camp was full of all sorts of people. As Cinthia sauntered towards the tents, she came upon a little girl.

�Who are you?� the small child inquired.

�I�m Cinthia, and I�m very lost. Do you think you could help me?� Cinthia purred back.

�Of course!� the girl squeaked. �What do you need?�

�Do you think I could speak to your parents?�

The child grabbed Cinthia�s hand led her towards the nearest tent. When they made it to the entrance, Cinthia thanked her and told her to run along, ducking inside the humble shelter. Inside there was a woman, dressed in the common garb with her hair pulled back into a bun.

�Is there something I can do for you?� the lady asked politely, with a smile spread across her face.

Cinthia chuckled and pulled a dagger from her boot. �Yeah, I think there is.�

The last sound to be heard was a shrill scream.



Years later, Cinthia was a part of the most notorious group of assassins in the world. Not only was she a part of the group, but she was its leader. She was ruthless. She was strong. She was a killer.

Cinthia had always wanted to be part of a horror story, and now she was.

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