Manhunt

Walking down the street, her icy blue eyes flickered as she glanced around her. The lack of emotions set her face to stone-frigid expression as she headed toward the enormous church, seeing people stepping aside from her path, afraid.

Ryiah's clothes were black, pants hugged her legs, knee-high boots with straps hitting the cobblestone as she moved forward with confidence, not interested in the surrounding people, looking at her demeanour. The top tank left her shoulders bare, a hood attached to it, covered Ryiah's head, the gloves she wore reached to her elbows, and the corset supported her middle. On her hips hang a pair of Sai, one on each side, on the lower back, she had double short swords.

Approaching the wide stairs, Ryiah's silent advancing alerting the citizens of what was about to happen, but she ignored their shouts, trying to warn the clergy inside the church. Some of them filmed her, some took photos, but she didn't stop, didn't even look at their way. Ryiah was on a mission and she would achieve it, even if it meant to blaze through the mob.

Climbing the stairs, Ryiah saw two priests glancing at her, their faces growing pale, taking an unsure step back when she walked passed them, reaching for the handle of the wooden door and opening it. The priests debated if they should stop her, or call someone for help, but the way she shot a glare in their way just before stepping inside, made them both scramble down the stairs to safety, motioning a cross on their chests.

Cool air washed over her as she stepped in, a quiet, almost serene environment greeting her. Endless rows of benches reached from the back to the shrine. Above it crucified a statue of Jesus Christ looking down at her as Ryiah walked the aisle forward. Behind it, a beautifully painted glass window illuminated the entire hall.

In the past, she would have kneeled, motioning a cross on her chest, but now, Ryiah merely scoffed.

Losing faith in her profession was a horrible thing to happen because it turned a human being into a monster without a moral. That was what happened to Ryiah, her supervisors could predict it, they knew it would happen because the head of the church ordered secretly someone's execution and she was there to witness it.

Normally, it wouldn't have affected her as much, Ryiah had witnessed more than once that the church could do so, the history was full of it. But it never affected her so deeply, because it didn't happen to her personally.

Until that one fateful night.

Her fellow assassin. Her beloved. Her soulmate.

They killed him one rainy night, and Ryiah was too late of saving him. He died in her arms, causing her heart to shatter into million pieces, as Ryiah screamed her pain and agony into the pouring rain.

When she found out exactly who was behind the order, everything she once knew in her world came crashing down. Everyone she knew was expendable, even herself. Once they had done their job long enough filling their purpose, they signed their death warrant because they knew too much. They had seen too much. And that happened to him.

It was cruel reality of being assassin but it was still a reality, but it didn't mean, she would have to accept it without a fight.

Vengeance filled Ryiah's mind like a poison. She wanted blood; she craved for it and she would have it.

Ryiah became a rogue. Abandoning her guild, she vanished from the radar.

Every assassin around the world was after her because Ryiah's foreman was afraid of what she might do. They needed to stop her.

They had a suspicion who Ryiah would target; they warned them, but she stayed hidden for months.

And now, after staying in the shadows for three years, Ryiah had accomplished the one thing she wanted her enemy to do.

Being afraid for years, they finally lulled themselves into false peace thinking they were safe. Ryiah hadn't come after them, so they thought her fellow assassins had hunted her down, and she was finally dead.

How very wrong they were.

For the past three years, Ryiah had been following this priest's every step, learning his routine, what he ate, what time he took a bath, who he met, what time he met them. She knew every little detail and now, it would pay off to her being so patient for months.

Sitting in the booth, Ryiah waited patiently until she heard someone sitting on the other side. Their deep inhale told her they were getting ready to hear the confession of a penitent.

"Good evening," the priest greeted her.

"Good evening, Father. In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen," Ryiah hummed hollowly, not bothering to make the sign of a cross. She had sold her soul to the devil a long time ago.

"May the Lord help you confess your sins," the priest spoke, signing the cross in front of his face as he prepared to listen to Ryiah's confession. She could picture the warm smile on the man's face as the voice was a soft hum.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been too long since my last confession." Ryiah lowly spoke, quietly pulling out the Sai on her right thigh.

"I have killed countless lives in the past, and I sometimes regret it. All but one life, I won't be regretting when it ends. I want to torture them, kill them, watch them choke on their blood and the mere thought of it, it's a most pleasurable one, with no measure," she lifted the Sai in front of her face, looking at it menacingly, slowly turning the blade horizontally pointing the tip at the wall between her and the priest.

Ryiah's gaze followed the blade, eyes growing cold and her lips formed a tight line, a flash of a memory of her beloved face as he coughed blood, caused her grip on the handle tightening ever so slightly her head lowering while her glacial glare pierced the wall.

The priest glanced at the wall, confusion visible on his face, then he heard her muttering something under her breath, he didn't hear what, but the icy tone of it chilled him to the bone.

"What was that, my child?" he asked, leaning closer, nearly pressing his ear against the wooden wall.

"You killed him,"

Words dragged from Ryiah's mouth as if they hurt her, pain, and grief clouding her mind, anger pumping blood through her veins faster, and her heart were pounding against her chest so hard it hurt, but Ryiah ignored all of that as she pulled her hand away from the wall and suddenly thrust it forward shoving the blade through the wooden wall, right into the priest's neck, just barely missing the jugular.

Cry of pain echoed in the halls the second the blade sunk through the skin, a grim smirk growing on Ryiah's face as she yanked the blade back.

A gush of blood painted the wall with red and the man gurgled pressing his hand over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding as he hauled himself further away from the wall, blood trickling slowly down forming a pool onto the floor.

Stepping outside from the booth, Ryiah's gaze roamed across the hall looking for anyone who might have come inside hearing the cry, but seeing no one, she opened the little door coming face to face with the dying man. His eyes widened with horror when his wavering gaze landed on her figure standing there, Sai in her hand, blood dripping from the blade.

"Father Aelric," Ryiah looked down at him a faint smile flickering on her face but then it faded when Aelric pointed at her when she pulled the hood off of her head.

"You...how..." he tried to speak but blood was filling his throat, causing him to cough, as he was slowly choking on it.

"Did you really think you were safe? That I wouldn't come after you? By ordering Griffin's execution, you signed your death warrant," Ryiah's monotonous voice made him shiver.

All this time she had hunted him down when he thought he was safe because there were no signs of her anywhere. She had vanished from the face of the Earth, and everyone assumed she was possibly dead.

Aelric now realized, only too late, that was exactly what she wanted him to believe.

"You will pay for this," Aelric said, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength merely to speak up.

"People will hunt you down, it is treason to kill a man with my status,"

"I am fully aware and yet, here I am," Ryiah smiled a little softer, watching as the life was gradually dimming from his eyes.

"You... knew.." Aelric breathed, slithering downward, not able to hold himself upright anymore.

"Yes, but I don't care. My only mission was to make you pay for what you did. I know I will die because of it, eventually. I never assumed I wouldn't pay the price. When the time comes, I accept it," Ryiah sighed, for a second looking over her shoulder, seeing they were still alone, for the time being.

"I have made peace with my demons, now it's your turn. I'll see you in hell," she leaned down, whispering to his ear.

Withdrawing she saw the light dying in his eyes, last gurgling breath leaving him.

The hand on Aelric's neck dropped onto the side and Ryiah turned away, closing the door and putting the Sai back on its place on her thigh.

Pulling the hood back over her head, Ryiah walked between two bench rows, stepping on the aisle, and headed toward the door.

Shouting from behind one door, on the right side of the shrine alerted her, Aelric's fellow-men had heard his screams heading down to see what was going on.

At the same time as Ryiah reached the door opening it, the back door opened and three altar boys rushed through the staircase, passing the shrine, one of them spotting Ryiah as she stepped outside the door, sunlight making her bath in it.

Ryiah glanced over her shoulder, a shadow of a smirk showing her lips, then she turned away, walking down the stairs ignoring the people yelling inside to call the ambulance when they found Father Aelric.

Making her way on the side of the major street where she had parked her black motorcycle, Ryiah didn't feel anything. No satisfaction, no peace. She was dead inside and nothing could fill the void inside of her heart.

Mounting the bike, she looked over the square of the church, people rushing forward, yells filling the air. News of Father Aelric's murder travelled fast, everyone adored him, he was a very important person, but no one knew the real him. No one in the country knew what he was capable of. In their eyes, Father Aelric died as a martyr, but Ryiah couldn't care less.

He was dead.

That was all that mattered to her.

Pulling out a photo of her beloved, a faint, genuine smile flashed on Ryiah's face as she stroked the picture with her thumb.

"It's over love. I avenged your death. I will join you soon,"

Placing the photo back into her pocket, Ryiah started the bike kicking the pedestal back steering it in the traffic disappearing in the middle of it while Aelric's helpers were desperate to keep the man alive but it was useless.

The community had lost their most loved man, and the manhunt for his murderer was about to start.