text: “How far is that?” He quietly mused to himself. “Twelve, maybe fourteen feet?” It was always more difficult to gauge distances in the dead of night. It was a formidable distance from rooftop to balcony, at least for most people. This, however, was no ordinary man. Dressed all in a dark navy, he flew across the night sky landing quietly on soft padded shoes and moved quickly into a roll to avoid injury. He tested the door to find it was locked. All as expected so far. Fortunately, his pick had yet to find a lock it couldn’t seduce into obeying his commands. The man slipped through without leaving a trace and made his way down the hall. “Third room on the right,” was where his contract said his quarry would be waiting. He made his way to the door and carefully pushed it open, his hand dropping to his dagger almost on its own. In a room dully lit by a single oil lamp was a single occupant, sat upright in a wooden chair, his back exposed and facing the door. The assassin closed the door behind himself and tiptoed to the point immediately behind the man he was here to kill. In one swift motion his empty hand covered and yanked backward the other man’s mouth and his knife plunged straight through back, rib, and heart. With no time to scream, only a muffled gurgle escaped his throat. A clean kill. As the knife was removed, a small stream of blood poured from the wound, soaking cloth dripping to the floor. Now to leave before anybody notices. As quietly as he had entered, the assassin made his way back to the door and started to leave. “Locked?” He whispered to himself. It wasn’t locked when he entered. By the dim light he scoured the door’s surface to find there was no lock. What was keeping it shut? After four or five attempts he decided it would be no good if he had to break down the door, that much noise would surely alert the entire building. So, he looked for another way out. There were no windows in the room, no ducts, no chimneys. The walls were solid and it seemed the door was the only way in or out. He went back to the door completely unaware of the circle of blood continuing to inch outward from the body in the middle of the room. He tried everything he could think of to get the door open. He tried prying his knife between the jamb and the door, but there was no gap large enough. He thought to remove hinge pins, but found none. As he was looking for a screw to remove with his knife he finally noticed the blood. The entire floor was now completely hidden underneath the liquid appearing black and shiny in the darkness. It was more blood than he had ever seen. More blood than he knew any human could ever have. That slow trickle had become a pouring fountain of blood from where his knife had probed. It was only seconds before his ankles were covered. He needed to get out now. As the panic rose in his throat he didn’t care about being quiet anymore. He slammed his body against the door and screamed for help. The blood rose, unyielding to his fear-stricken pleas. It wasn’t long before he began to swim, and only minutes later, the room filled to the brim.