Time passed and I kept drifting my gaze across the church hall, searching for the menacing stare.
Then it happened.
My eyes landed on her.
Kyra stood near the exit, staring at me coldly. Her stare was full of resentment and bloodlust. But that wasn't it.
There was something else in those seats had my blood running cold. It felt more menacing and unpredictable than Kyra.
When Kyra caught me staring, she vanished into thin air.
Then screams tore through the room. The congregants looked behind me, faces drained of color.
I turned around, shocked because I hadn't sensed a presence behind me.
It was Kyra, pointing a sword behind me.
How did she there? I thought.
"Daddy," she said, voice unwavering. "I want to go."
I stood, silent and unable to respond. Her calling me 'Daddy' caught me off guard. She'd never done that.
I managed to maintain a stern face, even though I was a bit happy. "Go?" I finally replied. "Go where?"
"I want to see her."
"So you came here to ensure I don't stop you. Is that correct?"
She stayed silent, looking me dead in the eye and firmly gripping her blade to show me her determination.
"Fine, I understand," I said.
I stayed still as she charged, swinging her blade toward me.
Her movements were quick to the human eye, but to me she was slow, aiming straight for my neck.
Then after a second, blood came gushing out of my neck. She'd dug out flesh in less than an instant.
I pressed my hand against the wound, releasing it to view the blood.
"Kyra, what have you done to daddy!" Tasha cried out.
The sound of numerous panicked footsteps rushing out the exit followed. The congregants vanished.
"Goodbye," said Kyra from behind me.
"You held back. Why?"
"Isn't it obvious? I don't like you, but you are still my father. I could never kill if I want to. Mom might also hate me."
I was confused. Even from a glimpse of it, I could tell Kyra's skill had advanced far beyond her years. But how?
I hadn't sensed energy that suggested she was training. So when did it happen?
"Kyra," I said, "Who trained you?"
"That's none of your concern," she replied, "You deliberately took my attack. Was it to give me the satisfaction of cutting your neck? That was risky, I could have actually killed you!"
That was true; I'd intentionally sacrificed my neck for that intended purpose. I couldn't understand why I did it, so I didn't respond to her.
She'd earned her freedom, so she began walking through the aisle past a petrified Joshua and Tasha.
"You stupid old man, you never fail to amaze me," she said, voice breaking.
It was clear that she was packed with uncertainty and hurt, but she had to keep going.
This was her desire to walk away.
That over there wasn't my daughter anymore.
I couldn't help but watch her leave, catching one last glance of her. Then at the door, she disappeared.
Joshua and Tasha followed after her.
Only I remained, standing alone on the on the podium in an empty church hall.
"Isaac!"
Or so I thought.
I turned toward the left half of rows, where I'd heard the voice.
There they were.
Two masked figures dressed in black with blue outlines. One sat comfortably on the stretched seat, arms rested on the back. The other stood beside him, arms folded.
"You look surprised, Isaac," said the one on sitting. "Didn't you see us sitting here all along?"
I was surprised. The menacing voice had come from him. I wondered how I'd never sensed him if they hadn't moved this whole time.
I shoved the thought aside. My biggest concern was dealing with them.
Assassins.