It's been two weeks now since he'd killed Alain and it was the third morning after his encounter with Saleh when Altair stood out in the open right in the middle of a busy street, Paris' citizens getting ready to greet a new day. He rubbed his chin and pulled the hood covering his head deep into his face, sinking back into the shadows, feeling more comfortable like this when he couldn't feel the eyes of those around him anymore. The sun had just risen and didn't manage yet to crawl up and over the houses, the shadows still large and air cold. His ship would leave in five days and he still had to ride all across France to get to Marseille. There was only one more thing to do...
He pushed people to their sides as he forced his way through the crowd, walking through dirt, shit and piss and needed to make a b-line in order to avoid getting hit by piss thrown out a window. The smell was unbelievable and he got once more reminded of why he'd never liked Paris. It was filthy, its citizens sick and there were rats everywhere. Altair just simply hated rats and one or two of his Brothers might even dare to say he was terrified of them but those would lose their tongue quickly if Altair was ever to witness to hear such thing. His boots and pants were covered by mud and something he didn't want to think about once he reached the market place. A rather large crowd had already gathered there, people cheering and screaming as the hangman was already up on the platform, ropes ready for their use. Altair made his way towards until he'd almost reached the first row. There were children held by their parents, sitting on their fathers shoulders or on their mothers hips, happy and eager to see a few men and women lose their lives today. Altair himself just stood there, a solid rock in the middle of a sea of madness, face hidden and eyes emotionless as he waited for the spectacle to begin. Guards were walking up the platform and the crowd started to move, people pushing forwards in large waves as their cheers and screams got louder.
Altair's fingers twitched when he saw several men and women lead onto the stage, cuffed and tied together. He counted nine of them, four women, five men and they all stopped underneath the ropes waiting for the hangman to put them around their necks, their faces dirty and some of them had tracks of tears on their cheeks, others had been clearly tortured. Their crimes were read to the cheering people, the noose pulled tight. He did no longer hear the people around him, did no longer see the laughing children. The world stopped turning while he focused completely on his target, his finger activating the mechanism of his hidden blade. He heard his pulse beating loudly inside his ears, his blood rushing through his veins and carrying adrenaline. Colors faded into gray and Altair stepped towards, pushing men and women aside but he didn't hear their insults, didn't feel their hands on his back as they shoved him.
He was the one, Altair's eyes set on him and for the first time ever since he'd killed his first target, his hand was shaking. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes, the hangman pulling the trigger and the trapdoors opened underneath the prisoners feet, their bodies falling and the ropes were pulled taut. Altair leaned forward, his hand moving, finger twitching again and his blade retract, hidden underneath the leather once more as he stood there, watching them struggle. Only two have been lucky enough to die through their fall. The other ones were slowly suffocating. Altair watched the man struggling, his face turning red then blue and his legs were kicking empty air. He was the one and he didn't feel pity at all, he didn't feel anything and yet he trembled like a leaf in the wind and only when none of the prisoners were moving anymore, he turned away swallowed by the crowd and forgotten in the shadows.
“Who was he?” Lucy looked up at Vidic, sitting next to the man's lifeless body trapped inside the Animus.
“There's a memory missing”, the man muttered and Lucy turned to watch Altair, feeling pity as she saw him like that, his wrists raw since they'd been strapped to the machine for so long now. Her eyes fell back on the old man and all she saw was the side of his face, the screen of his computer reflecting in his glasses as his fingers flew across the keyboard. She wondered if there'd be one to stop him one day. She wondered what had happened to the woman send by the Order to spy on Templars only to become one of them. She wondered what had happened to herself.
“How can there be one missing?” She slowly stood up and her fingers brushed over Altair's as she walked pass him and stopped next to Vidic. “That's not possible.”
“There's one missing”, Vidic growled again and he leaned closer over his screen. “Why would he go there? What does this man have to do with the artifact?”
“Maybe nothing at all”, Lucy told him quietly and she looked back over her shoulder, watching Altair still. It was strange to think that he was a monster. He didn't seem human at all when he was on missions, didn't seem human at all when he took his targets lives and there were moments where she thought he enjoyed killing. Moments like the one she just witnessed. She had been almost able to feel his satisfaction as he watched the man fighting for his life, had almost been able to feel his blood thirst being stilled. “Maybe it's about something which comes after the execution. Why don't we see?” Lucy sat back on her chair and rolled over to Altair's side once more. “He knows where it is, Alain told him that much.”
Now Vidic turned his head and Lucy saw her own reflection in his glasses. “Why's that? If I recall correctly Alain hardly told him anything.”
“He knows. Alain told him enough for Altair to put the pieces together. He knows where it is, he's going back to Masyaf. Why else would he do that if he didn't know?”
Vidic opened his mouth for a reply but he kept silent when there was a small groan and the rustle of moving fabric filling the room. “Is he... waking up?”, Vidic pondered and his eyes narrowed at Lucy, lips pressed to a thin white line, face dark. “How can he wake up?”
Lucy quickly made her way towards Vidic's screen, her eyes watching the numbers running across it. “He's not... not really”, she said and her voice sounded pressed, “he's still inside the memory but”, and she looked over her shoulder once more, her eyes scanning Altair's frame, “but it looks like his body is waking up. Shit. This is exactly what I tried you to warn about”, she hissed.
Vidic followed her, stopping by her side. “What does this mean?”
Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Vidic liked to talk about the Animus as if it was his baby, but he knew surprisingly less about it. “It means”, Lucy forced out between clenched teeth, “he's going to wake up and believe he's still in medieval France.”
“Like the Bleeding Effect?”
“Not effect. He's Bleeding”, Lucy explained. “I told you his old personality is going to get erased if you wanna go through with this. We're soon going to have a pretty pissed 12th century assassin.”
“Ah.” Vidic didn't seem as stressed as Lucy. “Well I expected that. Drug him, keep him unconscious and keep him in the Animus. We don't need him anymore after we're done.”
Lucy's head snapped around and she stared at Vidic. “You want to kill him?” She was outraged. Vidic was an idiot. Killing Altair was like throwing the artifact into the ocean. He was precious. He was important, he was like the 8th wonder of the world. Did Vidic not know that? “He's not like the previous subjects, Sir. He's not replaceable. He actually is Altair.”
“I know pretty well who he is Ms. Stillman, thank you very much”, and now his voice grew cold again and it reminded Lucy once more of what he was capable of, what she had witnessed him doing. It made her blood grew cold. Vidic smiled at her and it made her want to rip off his face. “We still have the other one, don't we?”
Lucy blinked, her rage ebbing away like the tide. “But- we can't work with him”, she stuttered.
Vidic sighed. “No but we can still use him”, and he talked about them as if they were nothing but cattle. He pursed his lips and they broke into a smile just a second later. “You know...”, he said and his voice was as soft as if he was speaking to a small child. “Bring him down her. Let Altair wake up. Let him see we have him.” He paused for a moment and then turned towards Lucy fully. “This was the plan all along wasn't it?”
She took a deep breath of air, her head hanging low between her shoulders with hair falling into her eyes.“There's only one thing”, she murmured, meeting Vidic's eyes and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, standing between him and Altair. “How do you control a monster?”
Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 13a
It's been two weeks now since he'd killed Alain and it was the third morning after his encounter with Saleh when Altair stood out in the open right in the middle of a busy street, Paris' citizens getting ready to greet a new day. He rubbed his chin and pulled the hood covering his head deep into his face, sinking back into the shadows, feeling more comfortable like this when he couldn't feel the eyes of those around him anymore. The sun had just risen and didn't manage yet to crawl up and over the houses, the shadows still large and air cold. His ship would leave in five days and he still had to ride all across France to get to Marseille. There was only one more thing to do...
He pushed people to their sides as he forced his way through the crowd, walking through dirt, shit and piss and needed to make a b-line in order to avoid getting hit by piss thrown out a window. The smell was unbelievable and he got once more reminded of why he'd never liked Paris. It was filthy, its citizens sick and there were rats everywhere. Altair just simply hated rats and one or two of his Brothers might even dare to say he was terrified of them but those would lose their tongue quickly if Altair was ever to witness to hear such thing. His boots and pants were covered by mud and something he didn't want to think about once he reached the market place. A rather large crowd had already gathered there, people cheering and screaming as the hangman was already up on the platform, ropes ready for their use. Altair made his way towards until he'd almost reached the first row. There were children held by their parents, sitting on their fathers shoulders or on their mothers hips, happy and eager to see a few men and women lose their lives today. Altair himself just stood there, a solid rock in the middle of a sea of madness, face hidden and eyes emotionless as he waited for the spectacle to begin. Guards were walking up the platform and the crowd started to move, people pushing forwards in large waves as their cheers and screams got louder.
Altair's fingers twitched when he saw several men and women lead onto the stage, cuffed and tied together. He counted nine of them, four women, five men and they all stopped underneath the ropes waiting for the hangman to put them around their necks, their faces dirty and some of them had tracks of tears on their cheeks, others had been clearly tortured. Their crimes were read to the cheering people, the noose pulled tight. He did no longer hear the people around him, did no longer see the laughing children. The world stopped turning while he focused completely on his target, his finger activating the mechanism of his hidden blade. He heard his pulse beating loudly inside his ears, his blood rushing through his veins and carrying adrenaline. Colors faded into gray and Altair stepped towards, pushing men and women aside but he didn't hear their insults, didn't feel their hands on his back as they shoved him.
He was the one, Altair's eyes set on him and for the first time ever since he'd killed his first target, his hand was shaking. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes, the hangman pulling the trigger and the trapdoors opened underneath the prisoners feet, their bodies falling and the ropes were pulled taut. Altair leaned forward, his hand moving, finger twitching again and his blade retract, hidden underneath the leather once more as he stood there, watching them struggle. Only two have been lucky enough to die through their fall. The other ones were slowly suffocating. Altair watched the man struggling, his face turning red then blue and his legs were kicking empty air. He was the one and he didn't feel pity at all, he didn't feel anything and yet he trembled like a leaf in the wind and only when none of the prisoners were moving anymore, he turned away swallowed by the crowd and forgotten in the shadows.
“Who was he?” Lucy looked up at Vidic, sitting next to the man's lifeless body trapped inside the Animus.
“There's a memory missing”, the man muttered and Lucy turned to watch Altair, feeling pity as she saw him like that, his wrists raw since they'd been strapped to the machine for so long now. Her eyes fell back on the old man and all she saw was the side of his face, the screen of his computer reflecting in his glasses as his fingers flew across the keyboard. She wondered if there'd be one to stop him one day. She wondered what had happened to the woman send by the Order to spy on Templars only to become one of them. She wondered what had happened to herself.
“How can there be one missing?” She slowly stood up and her fingers brushed over Altair's as she walked pass him and stopped next to Vidic. “That's not possible.”
“There's one missing”, Vidic growled again and he leaned closer over his screen. “Why would he go there? What does this man have to do with the artifact?”
“Maybe nothing at all”, Lucy told him quietly and she looked back over her shoulder, watching Altair still. It was strange to think that he was a monster. He didn't seem human at all when he was on missions, didn't seem human at all when he took his targets lives and there were moments where she thought he enjoyed killing. Moments like the one she just witnessed. She had been almost able to feel his satisfaction as he watched the man fighting for his life, had almost been able to feel his blood thirst being stilled. “Maybe it's about something which comes after the execution. Why don't we see?” Lucy sat back on her chair and rolled over to Altair's side once more. “He knows where it is, Alain told him that much.”
Now Vidic turned his head and Lucy saw her own reflection in his glasses. “Why's that? If I recall correctly Alain hardly told him anything.”
“He knows. Alain told him enough for Altair to put the pieces together. He knows where it is, he's going back to Masyaf. Why else would he do that if he didn't know?”
Vidic opened his mouth for a reply but he kept silent when there was a small groan and the rustle of moving fabric filling the room. “Is he... waking up?”, Vidic pondered and his eyes narrowed at Lucy, lips pressed to a thin white line, face dark. “How can he wake up?”
Lucy quickly made her way towards Vidic's screen, her eyes watching the numbers running across it. “He's not... not really”, she said and her voice sounded pressed, “he's still inside the memory but”, and she looked over her shoulder once more, her eyes scanning Altair's frame, “but it looks like his body is waking up. Shit. This is exactly what I tried you to warn about”, she hissed.
Vidic followed her, stopping by her side. “What does this mean?”
Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Vidic liked to talk about the Animus as if it was his baby, but he knew surprisingly less about it. “It means”, Lucy forced out between clenched teeth, “he's going to wake up and believe he's still in medieval France.”
“Like the Bleeding Effect?”
“Not effect. He's Bleeding”, Lucy explained. “I told you his old personality is going to get erased if you wanna go through with this. We're soon going to have a pretty pissed 12th century assassin.”
“Ah.” Vidic didn't seem as stressed as Lucy. “Well I expected that. Drug him, keep him unconscious and keep him in the Animus. We don't need him anymore after we're done.”
Lucy's head snapped around and she stared at Vidic. “You want to kill him?” She was outraged. Vidic was an idiot. Killing Altair was like throwing the artifact into the ocean. He was precious. He was important, he was like the 8th wonder of the world. Did Vidic not know that? “He's not like the previous subjects, Sir. He's not replaceable. He actually is Altair.”
“I know pretty well who he is Ms. Stillman, thank you very much”, and now his voice grew cold again and it reminded Lucy once more of what he was capable of, what she had witnessed him doing. It made her blood grew cold. Vidic smiled at her and it made her want to rip off his face. “We still have the other one, don't we?”
Lucy blinked, her rage ebbing away like the tide. “But- we can't work with him”, she stuttered.
Vidic sighed. “No but we can still use him”, and he talked about them as if they were nothing but cattle. He pursed his lips and they broke into a smile just a second later. “You know...”, he said and his voice was as soft as if he was speaking to a small child. “Bring him down her. Let Altair wake up. Let him see we have him.” He paused for a moment and then turned towards Lucy fully. “This was the plan all along wasn't it?”
She took a deep breath of air, her head hanging low between her shoulders with hair falling into her eyes.“There's only one thing”, she murmured, meeting Vidic's eyes and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, standing between him and Altair. “How do you control a monster?”