I was never the type to believe in love at first site or any kind of love for that matter.

When you’re in the industry that I was love is just a weakness,  a needless distraction and folly

It’ll make you sloppy,  dull your edge and put in the grave.  

Those word’s were drilled in my skull from the time I could crawl,  by my would be Father,  or should I say the man who molded me into the perfect tool for butchery.    

My name is Bel Serpico of the Serpico clan of Assassins.   There was a time that name Serpico made men shit themselves far and wide but that was long time ago.  

Now they’re all worm food while I the last living descendant sit in a dingy dank dungeon in the middle of somewhere eating rats while I wait for my execution.   

Another day in this shit hole and I might do them a favor and take myself out of play.  

 The snapping of bones breaking and the chattering of broken teeth in the torture chambers might make the other patrons of this fine establishment piss themselves but It’d be a welcome change of scenery for me.

The pattering of foot steps came casually strolling down the hall way,  the jingling of keys might as well be a death whistle at this point.   

The same routine they call the number engraved on your collar,  they take you away and you never return.  

The guard was an older gentleman small in stature with grey thinning hair,  dressed in crimson and black the noble colors of the Grand Duchy of Tisolia.   

“Prisoner Number 52,  Bel Serpico,  Step forward!”

I picked a cockroach out of my hair and shoved it in my mouth swallowing it with a satisfying crunch.

“Revolting!  Now, move along,  Number 52.”  The Warden groaned reaching for his pistol.

“Don’t judge me Warden,  I was just enjoying my last meal.”

“Can’t go to hell on an empty stomach after all.” 

Name:  Bel Serpico

Age:  Unknown

Race:  Human

Sex:  Female

Hair:  Long, Dark, Greasy.

Elemental Efficacy: N/A

Danger Classification:  D

Seeing the sullen faces of my cellmates was almost sad as two more guardsmen appeared from the darkness and escorted me to my date with the reaper.    

“So Mr. Warden how will go out today,  Headsmen,   Hangman,   Breaking Wheel?”

The Warden glared but offered not so much as a syllable in response.  

“Good talk guys,  Good talk.”   I said with a cute little whistle.

The journey to our destination seemed to take much longer than anticipated as the winding underground corridors seemed to continue on forever.   

It was probably designed like a labyrinth to intentionally disorientate and dissuade any would be escapees.   

 I could tell we were getting closer to the surface,  one of my myriad  talents is my impeccable sense of hearing,  I could hear the gentle summer breeze rustling the leaves above.   

A few moments later and we had arrived towards and ornate silver door guarded by three additional guardsmen, just as dull and ugly as the rest.   

“So this is the prisoner,  don’t look all that special to me”   A guard said snubbing a cigarette against the black stone wall of the dungeon.     

“You sure she’s really a Serpico?”

“That’s what the intel tells us,  either way it’s none of our concern we just do as our betters demand.”   

“It’s your lucky day insect,  You’ve got an audience with royalty.”  

“See that she’s made presentable,  Can’t bring this urchin before the Duchess.”

So I wasn’t going to the heads men axe today,  I’d almost be grateful but this sinking pit in my famished stomach refuses to go away,  I fear I may soon be subjected to something far worse than death.