5:00 PM, Wednesday

The short, stocky man was chewing his usual cigar as he approached Wraith at the bar. But, unlike the usual job accepting, he didn't smack Wraith on the shoulder or do anything else silly. Wraith tensed with expectation, this had to be a serious job. Silently, the man handed over an envelope and left. Wraith slitted open the envelope and read it. The others were to drunk to be peeking anyway. The message read thus:

Wraith,

    Your latest mission is to assassinate a bussinessman called Lorenzo. While maintaining that he is an honest, he runs thugs in the neighborhood without due respect to us. All attempts to rectify his behavior has failed. Terminate him publicly, within three days. God speed.

Wraith sighed, leaning against the bar table. His body quivered with excitement. As a man who took great pleasure in artistic killing, this would be an ample opportunity to fulfill his craving. Forcing himself to relax, he set about collecting information on Lorenzo. Or rather, kicking out the inferiors to do it for him.

6:45, Thursday:

The Rosera Opera House had much to be proud of. For one thing, this was the Big Night, when Norma's masterpiece would be played out by a famous band. What was more, all the elites of the city had come to attend, and Big Man Lorenzo had booked the entire center box at an exorbitant prize. The owner could not suppress a shudder of excitement. There was a big night ahead. Well, he was certainly right in that aspect. The audience slowly filtered in while a constant stream of workmen moved the props to the backstage.

The show began with pomp and ado. The singers moved fluidly through the stage, wearing the customary eye-wear of pure white, with a few dabs of paint on each side. Just as the music swelled for the final crescendo, a hooded man entered the stage. The actors took absolutely no notice. After all, they were paid to sing. Who cared about the extras? The man moved slowly to the middle of the stage, stopping right in front of a fat female who, at that moment, was singing at a painfully high tone. His entire face was obscured by a white mask, with slits for eyes and three streaks of black paint on either side...

Across the stage, right at the center of the center box, Lorenzo patted his ample belly and settled down deeper into his seat. The cotton in his ears kept out the noise, and he was able to make public appearances for the sake of any enterprising thugs who wanted to join him. His four bodyguards filled the room with their deep, comforting presence, and about five other guys were right outside the door. This was the life... He watched a black hooded figure approach the center stage. For some reason, the very sight sent shivers down his back.

Smiling behind his mask, Wraith flipped back the hood with a flourish. Holding up a hand to reveal a gun specially modified with a cylinder and sponge filter, he inclined his head slightly in the director of the center box and squeezed off four shots in an instant. Four huge lumps of human flesh collapsed. Without losing a beat, he flipped that gun to his left hand and drew another that looked similar, and squeezed off one more shot. The process had barely taken ten seconds.

Laughing wildly, he threw his cloak in front of him to cover himself, and kicked on the floor to fall through the cleverly hidden trap door, which sealed itself again by a spring mechanism. Operas were such easy places to kill people in! Lorenzo would be found shot through the head, and the bullet fired at him alone would bear the insigna of a laurel inside which two bullets leaned on each other. His own trademark. The morning news would contain the latest 'Phantom Assassination'. He really would have to see about telling that it was 'Wraith' and not 'Phantom'.

its a good read

Wraith nods. Thank you, I have a plan to get seven other assassinations in mind.

I really like this and am looking foward to other ones you create

Wraith smiles. Thank you Sareth.

Aeolus sit in the
audience of the opera house, half asleep.  Two days before, he was given a ticket to the event by his friend
Wraith, who assured Aeolus that the show would be a great one.  He hesitated at first and did not want to
accept the ticket.  After talking it over
with Wraith for a little while longer, he decided to attend the performance. Now,
he wishes he had refused

With his elbow propped
up on the arm of the red, cushioned chair, Aeolus rests his head in his right
hand.  The only thing that was keeping
him interested was a beautiful, blonde haired singer but she was no longer on
stage. 

He is beginning to
doze off when an unfamiliar hooded figure takes the stage.  This grabs Aeolus' attention
immediately.  He watches as the person
walks closer to center stage.  Nobody
expects what happened next.

As soon as the hood is removed, Aeolus smiles.  He thinks to himself,

So this is why Wraith wanted me to come.

He witnesses the four
shots and the swift disappearance of his friend while the others in the crowd flood
the exits or hide behind their chairs.  As soon as this was over, Aeolus stands up and
cheers,

Bravo! Bravo! What a show!

He continues cheering and
then disappears in the large group of people leaving the opera house.

Wraith grins. "Hopefully, you'll accept any more tickets without that much of talk".

As Myrddin sat there watching the show he paid close attention to the hooded figure on the stage. Something seemed oddly familiar about the man on stage. After the hooded man removed his hood, his suspicions were  confirmed...

Wraith, he whispered to himself , Very nice. 

Myrddin smiled proudly, got up from his comfortable seat and left after viewing tonight's outstanding performance. 

amazing read

Wraith blinked. He hadn't known Myrddin was sitting in the crowd. So the boss had a taste for opera. He filed away that interesting bit of information and smirked.