Up until the day it happened, Stephanie thought she could do it with ease. Much like when people say they wouldn't freeze up when a car comes crashing towards them, but do when it actually happens, Stephanie froze up the first time she was to kill. Being trained to be an emotionless killer and actually being one are two very different things, and Stephanie found this out the hard way.

She was 7 years old, top of all her classes, and already sought after as an apprentice by many seasoned assassins, although she wouldn't be able to take any of them up until her teen years. Her assignment was simple. Kill one Bethany Lambert, a woman in her late fifties who ran a small drug operation on the outskirts of Metropolis. Normally the League didn't interfere with drug trafficking unless they had some ultimate goal, but Bethany's crew had been selling to a school, and that was something not appreciated by the League. While at that moment in time, it was impossible to stop idiotic kids from doing drugs, most schools had only a handful, while the school Bethany supplied to had only a handful of kids not doing drugs.

On top of that a few children had disappeared from the school in resent years. Some of the other members of the League, the one's that gathered information only, had found out that Bethany had sold them in to child prostitution and slavery. A very stupid move, for that was what attracted the League in the first place.

And thus Stephanie was called in. Her supervisor, a woman called The Weeping Willow in her prime, now just Willow, had volunteered Stephanie for it. She seemed to have a large amount of confidence in the child's skill, and up until the time it was needed, Stephanie did to. So off they had gone. Just the two of them from whatever third world country the League had them stored in to Metropolis. The flight was long, and Stephanie had barley gotten a moment to herself, as Willow insisted on going over everything one final time.

When they arrive in Metropolis they rented a cheap motel room under the guise of a grandmother and her adopted granddaughter, as Stephanie was clearly causcian and Willow was of Asian descent. Once darkness had fallen and they were sure the super friends (Read: superman and any who work to protect the weak) were otherwise occupied, Willow and Stephanie ceased to exist and The Weeping Willow, now an elderly woman, and The Fallen Cherub, a child of barley 7 years of age, emerged.

The Willow was dressed in a slightly modified version of her old costume. The mask still dotted with green flecks that resembled leaves on the side, but the suit was much looser. In her youth she had worn an almost skin tight black body suit, made of the lightest material on the planet. Now it hung loosely off her, and had padding in some areas. While everyone hates to admit it, age weakens us all.

This wasn't the first mission The Fallen Cherub had been on by far. She had stolen, kidnapped, extorted, threatened and beaten her way to the top of her class, after all. But her costume had been modified all the same. She still wore a white full face mask, rimmed with purple, or eggplant as she enjoyed calling it, and her suit was still pitch black. While not as tight as The Weeping Willows had once been, it still clung to her body in some places while draping in other areas such as the hands. The reason it draped around the hands now, instead of clinging like it did, was for she now had 4 razor sharp, poisoned kunai sheathed on each side. Her pants also had a small rip on both sides just above her knee, although unnoticed because of her black leggings, Cherub could find it without even looking and pull out a short sword from each side, also poisoned.

Assassins could put the boy scouts to shame with how prepared they were and Cherub was a trained assassin, even if she had yet to acquire a kill count. She was prepared.

Under the cover of darkness, the two had snuck out of the motel they were renting for the night. Both young and old moving with the exact same grace. A true testament to the League's training that a seasoned assassin and a child killer moved with the exact same flow as each other.

The two, lacking any powers or transportation, moved across the roof tops with the ease of cats. They were silent, shadows moving with the wind. Having gone over this many times in her own training, and while training others, The Weeping Willow had rented a room on the other side of town. It would be impossible to link Stephanie and Willow to The Fallen Cherub and The Weeping Willow.

For what would have been a 3 hour run for most, was a twenty minute run for the two assassins. The rooves allowing for faster travel then foot or car, as they could skip over huge areas with ease. The moment of truth was coming, and yet Stephanie still felt like it would be over quickly.

As silent as possible the two crept towards the house. Being The Cherub's mission and not The Weeping Willow's, Willow stayed outside, only opening the window for Cherub to enter. She wasn't sure but Willow might have been smiling at her. Full face mask's make it impossible to tell.

With a quick nod, Cherub entered the dwelling residence of her target and crept to her room. From the Intel the information brokers had given her, it was on the second floor, second door, on the left corridor, right hand side. She was mere moments away from killing someone as they slept, and yet still no emotion stirred in her.

The door opened without a creak, stupid mistake, Stephanie had purposely made her door creaky so she could tell if anyone was coming in. Her steps made no sound as she walked towards her target. Her breath silent, still no emotion.

When she came to the side of the bed, she pulled out her dagger. Willow had told her that her mother had left her a single wreath spun from silver. Finding no use for the item, Stephanie had learnt how to smelt her own weapons. After many trials and errors, she had finally learnt the craft. She had pulled the gems, which had turned out to be coloured diamonds, from the wreath, then smelted it down to its base materials. She had then crafted a dagger and imbedded a single diamond into the hilt, and kept the rest of a latter date. Sure that the feature would come in handy one day.

Finally as the execution of Bethany drew nearer, Cherub's breath started to pick up and hitch. Her dagger held to her targets throat and-

Nothing. No jerk of her hand to end her, to stabbing down, not even a bashing from the hilt. She was frozen. As if in a trance she suddenly realized what she was about to do. As she pulled back, a hand shot out and grabbed her.

Looking down Cherub saw that Bethany was not asleep as she had first though, but instead awaking and faking it.

"You tripped a wire sweetie."

There had been no mention of wires form the information broker. Swearing she attempted to break the hold Bethany had on her, to no avail. It was iron clad.

Bethany's other hand had drawn a gun, from where Cherub-No Stephanie- had no idea, but drawn none the less. A second ticked by and everything went in slow motion. Quicker than a striking cobra Stephanie had changed the hand which was holding the dagger and slashed it across Bethany's throat. A chocked gasp for air and then silence. Bethany laid still forever more.

With blood on her gloved hands, Stephanie left the house. She spoke not a word to Willow as they returned to their lodging. Nor said anything about what it felt like to kill to her eager classmates, as she was the first to take a life.

Stephanie Brown had blood on her hands, and it would never wash off. But like many new assassins she knew what she felt at that moment in time would disappear, after all there were hundreds of people working for the League, and none of them ever complained about it, and after all, she was no better than them.

Stephanie Brown had killed someone for the first time at the age of 7 years 4 months and 16 days. She had no taste for it. None what so ever.

Kill count: 1