Just a few snapshots of the assassins on their days off  Assassins on a strange blog

american-sociopath:

masterassassino:

The assassin, not even 30 and already a grandmaster, was tired and weary from a long, painstaking battle with his former master, Al Mualim. It had not been easy to have to lay to rest someone so close to him, but it had been for the best.

Back in his chambers, Altair studied this ‘apple’ carefully. What was its purpose? Why was it here?
Suddenly, as he tightened his grip on the apple, he heard a click from within the shiny, metallic object. It began to glow, brighter and brighter until the light dimmed and it dropped from his hands, emitting a transparent image of what looked like a future assassin. He wore an apron, the same eagle-shaped hood and a large chef hat over it.

“Who are you?” Altair asked with a hint of fear in his voice.
The picture was now staring straight into Altair’s eyes, as if they were old friends.
“I know what you want!” Yelled the picture with a thick, Italian accent.

Suddenly, the apple started to glow again, brighter and brighter. Altair couldn’t see anything, and eventually he fainted. His body seemingly lifeless on the dark, wooden floor. 

As he woke, Altair slowly regained his senses, and all of a sudden, he shot up to sitting position, his eyes wide open like an eagle hunting its prey. The apple was gone!
But Altair could smell something, not something he’d ever smelled in his life before. It was a relaxing, hunger-inducing smell.
He looked towards his study table and there it was, the source of the smell. Fresh on the old oak table.

Altair rose to his feet and walked towards the table, observing this strangely beautiful thing he saw before him.
He pulled his chair back and took a seat, his eyes beaming with confusion and slight excitement. It was in 8 identical pieces that fit into a perfect circle.

Lifting one of the pieces, he studied it hard, trying to figure out why his mouth was now moist and his stomach grumbling. He just had to figure it out.
So, while squeezing his eyes shit tightly, he opened his mouth and places part of the now separated piece in his mouth and bit off a bit.

This was fantastic! It was nothing like he’d ever had! Quickly cramming down the rest of the slice, he enjoyed every bite. The other pieces shortly following.

With a satisfied burp, Altair sat back in his chair, and relaxed.
Suddenly, another bright light appeared, and the apple was on his his table with the same grinning Italian being emitted from it.
“Remember to tell your friends, Auditore’s Slices are much-a-better than Pazzi’s Pizza!”

The picture faded as Altair darted forward, grabbing the Apple. He observed the apple once more, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Have you nothing left to feed me? Or would you lead us all to hunger?” he said calmly as he licked his fingers that still carried the delicious taste on them.

From that day, Altair made it his purpose in life to figure out how to use this apple to obtain more of these ‘Auditore Slices’. It was all he could think about until the day he died.