Three shadowy smudges of humanoid figures emerged from the crumbled ceiling, locked in combat against a woman in a rhinestone suit, vehemently blitzing through the chords of her guitar. A string of musical notes orbited her, keeping her foes at bay.


    “What’s de matter, ninja dress up chumps?” she asked. “Did yer resolve wane ‘fter meeting l’dy Rock?” Whipping out a comb from her sleeve, she drove the teeth through her slicked back hair, flashing a blinding row of pearly white incisors.


    One of the three ninjas leapt forward, curving his sabre in a lethal arc aiming to cut through the string of musical notes and lady Rock, in a single blow.


    Plucking the strings, she willed a floating quaver forward, deflecting the oncoming blade while a crochet was swung like a golf club, caving in the sabre ninja’s head in a bludgeoned wedge. The remaining two assassins inched back, keeping their distance.


    “What’s de m’tter? Should I m’ke me way dere?” Lady Rock took a step forward, sliding her fingers over the chords of her guitar noiselessly. “A shame I must bring ‘dis show to an end.”


    “Milady,” said a voice, followed by the appearance of a brunette caked in debris.


    Snaking through the fallen remnants of the ceiling, a burst of crimson tore through the rubble, swinging a longsword at the circlet of musical notes orbiting lady Rock.


    “Off de rocker aren’t ya, young’un.” She ran her fingers over the chords. On command, a semiquaver slashed the redhead’s wrists off his forearms, followed by a pair of quavers that rushed him, severing his throat off his torso. “Sucks to have been you, slowpoke.” She kicked the remains of her pulverized opponent to the side, making her way towards the pair of shadow clad assassins, who were joined by the brunette.


    “It’s been one hell of a day, thanks to scum like you.” The brunette spat, wielding a cleaver.


    “Didn’t ya halfwits learn a ding or dwo? Bloody dypical.” Lady Rock hung her head, clutching her guitar firmly. “Let’s finish up den.”


    Suddenly, a dark-skinned baldie with a longsword emerged from a mound of cracked ceiling, wrapping a protective arm around an unconscious blondie. “The main course for the night is finally out.” Imbuing miasma into his longsword, he struck his blade into the debris caked ground. In response, hundreds of naked blades, unbound by hilt nor shaft, surged towards lady Rock.


    “So not slick me guy.” She frantically plucked the strings of her guitar, manifesting every musical note she could summon. Quavers, treble clefs and crotchets were occupied by an armada of forged steel. A clash of miasmas from both sides put lady Rock and the bald male, at a stalemate.


    The two remaining shadow-clad assassins and the brunette rushed towards the distracted lady Rock.


    Twisting about, she creased her brows, playing her guitar in a heightened fever pitch. Slick wet rolled off her face, her miasma pushed to overdrive. Out the periphery of her vision, a crimson strand entered her visual field. Caught by surprise, she fumbled backwards.


    The surge of naked blades faltered, decimated by the fading musical notes, right when the redhead thrust a longsword through her guitar, fraying the strings.


    “Dammit, ya damned pests!” Lady Rock swung the ruined instrument, parrying away the redhead’s second blow. “Now I’m goin’ to make ya pay.”


    A shadow infused projection emerged amidst the commotion, bordered by jagged canines for teeth. The canines chomped down on lady Rock and the redhead in a single bite. A gurgling set of screams bubbled out the dying duo, reducing them to a blood-smeared tangle of tattered torso and limbs, splayed like crimson ragdolls.


    “My, my,” said the ninja at the centre, dispelling the shadow imbued steel trap. Removing her veil, she let loose electric blue hair over her shoulders. “Finally, someone dismantled her barrier. That thing was impervious to all our attacks. Once we deal with the remaining two intruders, we can finally call it a day.”


    Juke fell to his knees, holding Marr close. Leaning against his longsword, he uttered, “right when we find you, the situation looks bleak.” Breaking into a coughing fit, his grip weakened, his longsword quaking.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    “It’s not supposed to be easy. Otherwise, everyone and their grandmas could get their hands on the head of the Yang!” The electric-blue haired assassin hissed in distaste, curling her lips. “Was it you that burned down the mansion we had seized from the Yin’s? I heard some newbie assassins, one with a flaming miasma and another with an elusive type were the culprits. In the wreckage, I found a mechanical contraption masquerading as my daughter. Ring any bells?”


    “Milady Haern,” said the brunette cautiously. “Be wary of the redhead. His resurrection miasma is troublesome.”


    “Resurrection?” Haern shifted her gaze towards the bloody mesh of lady Rock’s and Azael’s remnants, her eyes widening. “Uncover their remains. Something doesn’t seem right.” Motioning the shadow clad assassin at her side to the fleshy mess, she made her way towards the fallen couple. “You two were involved with the Yin mansion mess, weren’t you? I remember one of the survivors mentioning a redheaded assassin.”


    “True, my associates might have been involved, but we have no idea what you speak of,” said Juke. “You can ask Azrael himself, since it was his mission.”


    “Throwing your comrade under to save your hides? Not bad,” lauded Haern. “Is the woman that important to you?”


    “I am willing to do anything if she will survive.” Juke tightened his hand around Marr, holding her close, while his other hand supported his dipping head from touching the ground, with a longsword clutched firm. Sweat poured freely off his clammy palms. “I can reassure you my associates did not take any hostages.” Abruptly, his body went limp, planting his face in the debris caked ground without warning. A stab of pain shot up his arm, noticing his longsword laying nine feet from his frame, an untethered wrist clenching the hilt of the blade.


    A spike swathe in shadows was retracted, slithering its way back to Hearn’s feet. “Audacious, aren’t you? Making demands when you broke into MY home, trying to assassinate ME! Know your place, VERMIN!”


    “No one move.” The redhead arose from the mound of debris, holding a longsword over the shadow clad assassin’s throat. “If it’s me you want, I’m right here. And while you’re at it, why don’t you take a look at the guitar freak’s corpse.”


    “What do you mean?” asked Haern.


    “A mechanical contraption, you say? You might find more clues here than torturing the two of ‘em.” Azrael kicked up the remains of lady Rock, tossing her head towards Haern.


    Bending down, she examined the severed head, noticing the flesh peel off the skull. Puckered crimson glittered beneath, brighter than blood, closer to a substance dyed red and tethered to skin. She knelt over and peeled the skin off the skull, unveiling a dull grey sheen. Tapping the skull, a hollow clang resounded, the bone as hard as metal. “Well look at that.”


    “Why don’t we call a truce?” suggested Azrael, motioning the brunette to join her boss. “Something fishy is going on here, and we could either cut each other up or get to the bottom of our problems.”


    “You take us for fools?” asked the brunette, glaring daggers at the redhead. “We can’t let those two go either, after turning my men to stone–” Her lips stopped in a noiseless flap, losing steam. Liquid crimson dribbled down her temples, her brunette hair wafting in front of her.


    “Spoiler alert,” said a familiar face.


    After the brunette woman, Azrael and the assassin he had held hostage fell forward, sliced vertically in half.


    Juke met the redhead’s unchanged expression, falling unawares to the ground. “What are you doing!?” he asked. Panting, his expression twisted in agony, worse than the pain he had felt when he lost his hand.


    “Oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing, waltzing in here?” Haern extended her hand hurling a dozen spears imbued in darkness at the intruder.


    “Is that all?” Waving a hand, the intruder dissolved the shadows, dispelling the spears. “Anything else up your sleeve?”


    “What the hell are you?” Haern launched herself at the intruder, her head flying off her shoulders and her body lurching forward in a headless tumble of electric blue.


    “That was quick work. Now, what do you have up your sleeve? Any neat tricks?”


    “What is this about, Lil–” Juke’s world was inverted, gravity lulling him along like a tumbleweed in the wind till he was stopped by a severed hand gripping a longsword, plunging his vision into the void.


    “What did you just do!?” Lilith stormed in, her footsteps thundering. Firing a cerise flash off her fingers, the blade fell from the other Lilith standing over Juke and Marr.


    “None of your assassins are on par yet,” said an androgynous voice. An all-too familiar face with magenta hair and cerise eyes met her gaze, mirroring her in every aspect. Except the coldness within the confines of heartless pupils.


    “Oi, what’s going on?” Azrael scratched his head, rising from the mound of jumbled limbs.


    “Or maybe...” The imposter grabbed the redhead by his face, moving quicker than a fired bullet, slamming him against the debris caked ground. With a vial drawn from the waist, the fake Lilith grabbed a discarded cleaver, cracking open Azrael’s skull and tipped the liquid within. “I suppose we have a winner. The amnesiac I administered should wipe his memory of this ordeal, though hopefully, not everything.” As Lilith’s features melted, the sinister outline of the Silhouette surfaced.


    Lilith rushed towards the fallen Marr, scooping up Juke’s remains in her hands. “I am going to kill you one day.” She glared daggers, cradling Juke’s severed head in her arms. Bending over, she assessed Marr’s pulse, out of the Silhouette’s field of view.


    “But you will not. So long as your child is with me, you cannot lift a finger against me. Oh, and lest the young lady recalls anything from tonight, do not forget to–” The Silhouette slid a finger over the throat, mimicking a gag. “You know the drill.”