Two guards.
One laughed.
"...Can't believe Andrew wrapped that thing up like a present."
The other chuckled.
"Better safe than sorry."
Metal keys jingled.
One guard sighed.
"By the way..."
"They moved that weird scythe."
"Evidence warehouse."
"Captain's orders."
The assassin stood motionless behind the door.
Listening.
The lock clicked.
The first guard pushed the door open.
The room looked...
Empty.
"Huh?"
He stepped inside.
Confused.
A shadow moved.
One hand covered his mouth.
The other twisted.
Crack.
His neck folded sideways.
His body never hit the floor.
The assassin caught it.
Lowered it gently.
The second guard frowned.
"...Oi?"
No answer.
He stepped inside.
Too late.
A palm struck his throat.
His airway collapsed.
He clawed desperately.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't scream.
A knife appeared.
Not the scythe.
A tiny blade hidden inside a boot.
One clean motion.
Across the neck.
Blood painted the wall.
The body dropped.
Silence returned.
The assassin knelt beside the corpse.
Picked up the prison keys.
Unlocked the final restraints around the ankles.
The broken cuffs remained on the floor.
Bent.
Twisted.
Covered in blood.
The assassin walked into the hallway.
Another guard rounded the corner.
He opened his mouth.
Never finished.
A flash.
The knife disappeared into his eye.
His body collapsed before the alarm could be raised.
Another.
Another.
Each death happened before sound could travel.
The hallway slowly filled with bodies.
Footsteps.
Then nothing.
The prison doors creaked open.
A lone figure disappeared into the night.
Behind—
The cell remained open.
Blood slowly spread across the stone.
Broken restraints lay scattered across the floor.
As if they had never held anyone at all.