You were an esteemed Assassin. Scaramouche is your target.

You were hiding inside his closet, knife in hand. The room was dark, with only a sliver of moonlight visible. Suddenly, you heard a loud thud followed by glass shattering. Quick footsteps ran up the stairs, his bedroom door flung open and shut with a loud bang.

Someone came inside the closet, closing it as they sat down. It was none other than Scara.

"Fucking hell..." He whispered to himself, shaking.

He didn't notice you.