The echoe of gunshots thudded through the city streets as Elias ran, his legs taking him as fast as they could. They felt as if they would give way. Uneven cobbles threatened to roll his ankle as he turned sharply round a corner to enter the maze of dark alleys which bordered the city. Shadows creeped in every crevice, rats scurrying by his feet. More large footsteps echoed behind him. He turned to a dead end. Of course.

Sh*t. Elias cursed in his mind as he frantically searched for an escape. An old, splintering door stood before him and he barged through, his arms flashing with great pain when the door flung off of it’s hinges. An empty room with a low ceiling stood before him. There was no escape. Dust clung to every surface like Elias gripping onto his sanity. The thugs would be here any minute.

They had began to pursue him when he was associated with that assassin. He coukdn’t remember how they came to know each other, but all he knew that was his liking for her only got him into trouble. Now he would meet his end.

Above him, a voice resonated. “Take my hand!” An arm stretched through a trapdoor in the ceiling. He took it quickly, being hoisted up until reaching the harsh, stone tiles of the roof. It had began to rain and the roof was slippery.

Olyn crouched before him, the assassin. Elias suddenly stood, shock coursing through him.

“Don’t stan-“ She began. Then a bullet was fired.

It bit into his shoulder harshly, tearing away skin and tissue. Pain bloomed within him and he stumbled, the force pushing him backwards. The assassin caught him in her arms, and, hoisting him onto her shoulder, began to run across the rooftops, evading any arrows or bullets coursing through the air. The world faded black.

When Elias woke, he was laying in a narrow alley. It wasn’t raining and the sun began to rise. Hours had passed since he was shot, he realised. Pain still radiated from his shoulder and he winced as he tried to move. Olyn came into view, and she began to wrap his wound in a thin, long strip of cloth, carefully not to tie it too tightly. Her calloused hand worked efficiently. She remained silent.

“Thank you.” Elias breathed. Olyn merely nodded her acknowledgment.

He couldn’t help but say, “I though assassins weren’t allowed to care.”

Olyn paused, and looked straight at him with her beautiful, piercing eyes. “The reason to become a criminal is to not be bound by rules.” She smirked. “I’m an assassin. I can do what I bloody well want to!”

Elias chuckled. It was strange to think he was safe with a professional murderer.

(I know I say this with almost all of my writings, but this is genuinely not very good. I tried hard but realised my idea was going nowhere so I cut it short. Please let me know what you think, your feedback is really appreciated!)