It stopped.

Suddenly, it stopped and the darkness receded from my vision. I found myself glaring into a looming abyss of black, stretching over the horizon like a sunset from a world with no colour.

The alienated moon hung limply in the sky, it's silver aura dimmed in the tense atmosphere. Glimmering in the shadows of the sky, the constellations winked at me, as though they were trying to tell me something - a warning - but I couldn't turn back now.

Silhouettes and shapes of figures clotted the edge of my view; the sinister image of decaying trees. The emanation that hung over the graveyard seemed to pull on my soul, tugging at it restlessly, aiming to lacerate it from my body. I took a deep breath, but ended up coughing and spluttering; the air was sulphurous.

A retching sound escaped my mouth as I gasped for fresh air, but none came. None.

I took a step. Dead leaves crunched underfoot, mist swirled around my feet, but I trudged on, oblivious to the piercing eyes glued on my back, I trudged on.

"You're late," a snarl alerted me to a presence in front of me. A being egressed the shadow of night, slumping from his heavy weight into the path of moonlight. I could see his eyes squint at the brightness.

"It's done?"

I didn't dare speak. I was still new in his operation. I felt around my cloak for the knife he was presumably asking for. The silver blade, originally new, was now coated in dry blood, the smell of rotting flesh escalating from the only remains of the decomposed body.

"Y-yes master," I winced at my stutter.

"Good, villain, now, Mr Shorn is next."

My face pales - a bead of sweat collects on my brows, cold rushes to me, trying to calm me and stop me hyperventilating. "W-what? Mr Shorn? The assassin?"

"Well... Unless you want to be the next victim, then yes. That Mr Shorn."

I swallowed the lump of fear which was lodged in my throat like an arrow. I stumble backwards before running from the lair of my new boss. Leaves crunch in their winter decrepitude, but I refuse to glance back. Slipping the knife back into my pocket, I mutter to the trees. "This isn't the life I wished to live."

If only I had known that Mr Shorn was standing their, gun aimed at my head, frown upon his face, as he pulled the trigger.

And I fell into the warm arms of death, mission unaccomplished.