Last night a raid on E corridor of Girton saw the end of Rakeesh. D Day Dan accompanied by accomplices made what turned out to be an easy kill as Rakeesh was caught short with his back to an open door. The victim was bound and blindfolded in the corridor before a execution by the blade.
Today I learned an important lesson: toasted sandwiches can be
hazardous to your health. Mine caused me to be caught between kitchen and
room with not a single weapon.
The knife-wielding assassin and his accomplice approached quickly, and I guessed their intentions immediately; weaponless and helpess, I made a dive for the kitchen. If I could just reach my poisoned darts... but they were too quick. A single fatal stab to the chest, and I lay in a heap on the floor. I never did get to eat the toasted sandwiches.
'Twas a tragic day, a tragic day indeed. For verily so I, Mandos, Master of the Night, did perish at the cruel and fateful hands of one Ben Cummings, recently deceased, yet returned from Fire-Shrouded Tartarus as a Police Officer. Returning once more unto my abode from a hard day of lurking, I was all unawares set upon by the aforementioned fiend, and tricking me in a most cunning manner, he did entice me to reveal my concealèd weapon, whereupon he did, most viciously and with vindictive spite, hurl forth many a leaden slug into my ethereal form. Oh woe is me! I am made as nought. Yet know this, all ye of The Guild, though even now my pale corpeal husk doth melt and return into the Stygian earth from whence I was born, my immortal spirit lives on, and yea it shall come to inhabit another and they shalt be called, for INTO EVERY GENERATION A SLAYER IS BORN! I shall return as PC Mandos, scourge of the night-wanderers who threaten the sanctity of The Guild, and the holy boundaries of The Grass.
The victim survived the attempt and reports:
Poison pen letters are all very well, but only if the poisoner is going to put an effective amount of poison on the letter. Otherwise the victim will simply read the feeble blackmail letter and chuckle lots, having avoided the two small blobs of poison.
Indeed, I was on rather a high after the quick murder of Unity on
night, perhaps too high.
Having been working away at translating ancient eygptian texts from a tomb
raided just last month, I heard some scuffling outside my door. "Hmm. Just
my man servant" was the first thought that came to mind.
A minute passed before the words "We've got the work for you" (or a
similar general comment) emanated not too far from the heavy oak door to
Intrigued by this baseless comment, I cautiously continued to open the
door when a skinny arm protruded through the door opening with a revolver.
At this point my natural animal speed enabled me to slam shut the door
within a wink of the arm's appearance.
For it was not a second too late as the crack came from the devilish
device. The bullet found its mark in the masonry not 1 inch from my right
ear. Having brushed the dusty white masonry from my Persian velvet gown,
there was no other choice but to release the carrier pigeon. Twas not a
dashing journey for the little animal, for the police station was situated
two score yards away. Returning to my work and hot camomile tea, I awaited
the arrival of reinforcements. But how could I be so nonchalante? What of
my manservant, Hubert? There was no time - I had to ensure his safety, the
burden even heavier on my back with the knowledge that he was providing
for wife and 4 children. I had no weapons except my agility (see last kill
report on kill page 1) and dexterity. I opened the door to my chamber to
catch a glimpse of the tragic Hubert, slumped dead in the corner of the
porch; a clean red wound to his neck.
This dastardly assassin had made his last kill - it was time for revenge and justice. I charged out into the porch roaring (not unlike Brian Blessed) with anger only to feel the scorching kiss of hot lead against my right side - the assassin was not only a coward but also a backstabber (backshooter?). Twas not the end, for all that know of the legend of Brough. Stumbling out of the house, I met a further eight assassins. 3 guns roared independently. I still refused to accept my fate and called out to the police officer (Agent Cupcake) who had finally arrived for help. Cupcake made a valiant effort, waving his sabre aggressively at the evil spawn of beelzeebub. Indeed, PC Cupcake's efforts were fruitless, and the last thing I saw before I was smashed to the ground by all nine assassins was the feeble figure of PC Cupcake running towards the garden gates. Some have said that it would take 5 men to take Brough down; for they can now be proved wrong. It took nine.
At approximately 1915 myself (mu) and fluffy-bunny left our hideout and proceded to blue boar court, trinity. We convinced some of the natives that we were indeed here to discuss some supervision work. Fluffy-bunny needed to visit the rest-room, and as she was coming out (I was guarding the door) I noticed Caroline coming up the stairs (we'd spotted her on a stake-out yesterday), and she recognised me (Clearly I am a wanted man in Cambridge), but I ran towards the door at the top of the stairs. I pushed the door open and stuck my cap gun around the door, firing three times - the second didn't go off. A miffed Caroline wondered how we had got her whilst she was taking the long way around to her room, but graciously conceded defeat, and we gave her the corpus card (not eligible for drinks in the college "bar" by the way).
We proceded to find bun-bun to discuss bomb building tactics, but he wasn't in his room, so we went to drop by Fluffy's room.
Here Jonathan takes up the story:
While waiting for my target near her room, I hear somebody coming, I hide, and some people go past, talking about kills and such - excellent - other assasins - is one my target???
The next-door neighbour of my target opens her door - she had seen me earlier, and could see me round the corner. She says that "Somebody was looking for you, she turns and sees me - I know I am discovered. I jump out and let off two elastic bands at a guy fumbling in his pocket. Both miss. I run around the corner as the guy - about 2m away lets off the cap gun in my general direction. Regardless, I cower in the corner, fumbling with my elastic bands, when said assassin runs into view. In a last ditch attempt to save myself, I throw my knife at him - it hits his arm - he then shoots me several seconds later.
I decided to try once again to kill Laura from Corpus Christi. But I
decided that I'd better have a witness so I asked Ben, a police officer
from King's to witness the regularity of the execution.
We managed to penetrate in her hostel, but she wasn't in her room. After a
few minutes waiting there we decided to go in Corpus Christi's bar.
Drunken people occupied most of the space, after some research we
our target who was unwarily speaking with a group of friends. After a few
seconds I decided what to do, stab her right there as I used to do when I
worked in Italy.
I approached her very carefully and asked "Laura?"
She said yes.
It was the last word she pronounced. A quick stab in her chest caused instant death. Blood was flooding all over the place. My knife was hidden a few instants later.
Forty seconds later I was going away, when something hit me in the face (a bullet).
I thought I had been exceptionally stealthy by not answering the door last night (at about 1am) when he came knocking with evil intentions of stabbing me. Unfortunately for me, persistance paid off as the next day I decided to visit the bog without any weapons (and was funnily enough the only point in the day when I decided not to wear my glasses - blind as well as dumb!). On seeing me the assassin grinned with glee and promtly stabbed my several times.
After contemplating Mu's future as an assassin, and many other things
Mu decides after leaving the Corpus bar that enough is enough and that he
would end his own scrawny life. At 22:38 outside the JCR Mu pulls the
trigger to the gun inside his mouth. Click. The gun doesn't fire and Mu
gets jaw cramp. At 22:39 he puts the gun to the side of his head and
BANG, Mu is no more.
As I write I can hear a bomb being planted outside my door, but I am already dead.
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