Life is a fickle thing. You can trace somebody’s bloodline back as far as you are willing to look, as far as you’re willing to invest the time and energy to document the ancestors of of a single person throughout the decades, centuries, millennia. Everyone you see today has relatives who survived through harsh winters, wars, plagues, and trials greater than you can imagine.
Yet life is so fragile. The energy required to snuff a life out, to end a bloodline, is laughable. Thats where I come in. I do the world a service, I create purity.
My bloodline is as pure as they come, glorified by kings, emperors, priests, and conquerors. During the days of Rome, my ancestors ruled the greatest empire there ever was. In the dark ages, they were Saxon kings. The family words have been passed down for thousands of years: Legacy, Family, Blood. Now it has passed to me to do the work of my family.
I am Edric Kane, and I cleanse.
I grab my kit, filled with everything I will need for tonight’s work. I have planned it for weeks, carefully selecting this night to be the night of the cleanse.
William Mordrand, Mordy to his friends, has recently been promoted to a high-ranking government position in the United States, and is currently on vacation in London to celebrate with his family. His entire bloodline: wife, daughter, son, all in the same place. He has made it so simple. Mordrand himself a bastard, father unknown, mother a prostitute, good old Mordy had received lots of scrutiny over his family roots, but he had been elected none-the-less, and all those originally opposed to it had forgotten. Not me.
I hail a cab to the hotel where he is staying, trying desperately not to think of all the filthy blood that surrounds me, all the mongrels that creep around the city; it’s laughable how they believe they have finally made it, that if they work hard enough they can be great. They overstep their bounds.
But I cannot worry about them tonight, for I have work to do, work of much greater importance. With the hotel looming above my head, the street is quiet. Just as I knew it would be.
I go into autopilot, executing every move as I have practiced a hundred times. Get in the elevator, hit floor 16, walk down the hallway, knock on the door.
“Can I help you?” Mordrand asks with a confused smile. “We’re in the middle of dinner.”
“Yes, uh, the hotel sent me up to check on the air vents, regulation stuff, nothing to worry about,” I say with a smirk.
I can never help myself, I can never fully pretend to be of low status, and I always smirk. I must work on that, it’s gotten me into trouble before.
“Yeah, sure, I thought you were with the press. God knows I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime. The price of being famous right?” he joked.
“Yes, I’m sure it must be very tedious,” I say, still smirking.
You won’t have to worry about the press for much longer you lowborn scum.
As he returns to the table, I go to work on the vents. I work for a while, then I go over to the table.
“Mr. Mordrand, I hate to disturb you during dinner but-” I launch into action, and before anyone can react I have slit his throat. Confusion spreads across his face as blood seeps through the paper thin gash in his neck. I cannot savor it though, for I have to deal with the family.
Pulling a silenced handgun from my blazer, I shoot the wife twice in the chest and once in the head. The daughter is beginning to realize what has happened as I shoot her as well. The son is slower on the uptake and sits there looking baffled. I crack him on the temple with the butt of my gun. He will be dealt with by the fire. Severing the gas line with my knife, and pouring the brandy old Mordy was drinking on the drapes, I walk to the door, strike a match, set the whole book on fire, and flick it.
I smile at the whoosh the gas makes as it bursts to flame, setting the drapes ablaze. I walk calmly down the hallway, facing forwards, a smile on my face. The disabled security camera stares blankly at the floor, and will resume filming as soon as I leave the building.
I mentally check another name off my list. Yet another bloodline, stopped in its tracks. Legacy, Family, Blood.