On the bed, I can see the outline of a woman’s body. There’s a man asleep in the armchair. Several bottles of alcohol litter the floor around the drunk man.
His story is simple enough. He cheated, she threatened to take everything that she had inherited from her family, but he was too greedy. He wanted to keep her wealth, and he wanted her gone. So, he murdered her in this very room.
Now his wife wanted vengeance. From beyond the grave, she spat her demand: his blood, the mistress’s blood… and the children, too. The last part reeks of Hades, twisting the knife, ensuring no one walks away with clean hands.
Even humans can be monsters. I might have been on her side if she hadn’t asked for the children as well. Or perhaps that was Hades’ touch, a cruel condition to seal the deal. He does love pushing people into corners until they break.
I step closer to the man, dragging my nail down his forehead. His body jolts, and he begins to choke, the sound sharp in the silence. Pathetic. Still, I can’t stop the bitterness and disgust curling in my chest. He’s the reason the rest of them will suffer.
The woman shifts on the bed as I move closer. Her eyes flutter open, confusion giving way to fear. I press my hand overher mouth before she can scream, my nail cutting down her forehead. My power seeps in, her body slackens, and her eyes roll shut.
I turn away before I can think too long on it and head down the hallway, where I can hear the two small heartbeats.
I open the door to the kids’ room. They’re curled together, a boy and a girl, too young to understand any of this. The girl sucks her thumb in sleep, her brother’s arm around her like a shield that won’t save them. My stomach knots, just for a second.
Once, this part used to fuck me up. The first time I was sent to take a child’s life, I was shaken up and was unable to stop my entire body from trembling, and I’d sit awake for nights afterwards. Their faces replaying behind my eyes, the guilt lodged in my throat. It was almost impossible to force my hand down on something so small, so trusting and damn innocent.
Now? Now I stand here, and I can still feel that old hesitation scratching at the edges, but it doesn’t own me anymore. Time wears it down. You build walls without meaning to. The first crack of innocence you destroy screams, the second whispers, the tenth barely stirs at all. Repetition numbs what should never be numbed. That’s the price.
I’ve learned a trick, sadistic, I guess, and it’s a lie I have repeated countless times, morphing it to suit the child before me. It doesn’t make it right, it doesn’t take away that I kill children, but it makes their final moments peaceful.
I walk over to the bed and place my hands on their heads. White mist swirls around them, and I see their expressions soften, a small smile tugging at the end of the boy’s mouth.
In their dreams, they’re picturing that they’re flying, that a boy has visited them who will take them far away to a land where they’ll never grow up… In its own sick way, it’s true, but I’m not a boy, just a killer, and they won’t grow up, but they will enter heaven. Unlike adults, children are not judged.
I slowly drag my nail down their foreheads, the girl’s eyes flutter open, and she looks at me with large doe eyes.
Bright blue, just like our own Phoenix, and it fucking throws me. Still, I mask those feelings and give her my trademark smile and wink at her, despite the crushing feeling inside.
“Sleep…” I say softly. Her eyes flutter shut, and she giggles softly before I see her soul leave her body.
I lower my head for a moment, taking a slow breath before I stand tall, turn and leave the room. I close the door behind me with a click that feels louder than thunder. My duty is done. The woman’s vengeance is fulfilled.
Smoke curls in the corridor, rising thick and familiar, pulling me back to the Academy. My room swallows me whole. I strip and step into the shower, the water running down my body, boiling hot and unforgiving.
The fact is, I will always smell of death, because I am fucking death.
I’m never the same man upon return that I was before I crossed the threshold – because every death changes me.
I lose a bit more of my sanity, lose grasp on how it feels to care, to feel.
I scrub and scrub, but the scent still clings. The silence clings. The memory clings.
Knowing I can’t remove it.
And still, I try.
For Charity
Heaven
The following day passed in a blur, and we’re all simply waiting for the moment we are going to leave. I now apply glitter to my face, creating a skull-like makeup design that covers half of my face.
Allie decided against The Nun getup as we are going to have to leave at some point while the party is in progress. So, she decided to simply wear all black and said she’ll bring a weapon. I’m not sure what she’s supposed to be, but she seems satisfied, and that’s the most important thing. I think?
I finish my makeup and put on a burgundy velvet mini dress. Even I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be. I planned on a black gown, but knowing we’re going to have to make our exit during the evening, the burgundy dress was a better option. We will need to suit up fast when we leave. I pull on my over-the-knee boots, which have a pretty high pencil heel, and lace them all the way up.
I have several black ribbons around my thighs and up myarms. Each ribbon holds several weapons, all sealed inside. I tie a final ribbon around my throat and admire my reflection as I hoist the strapless dress up over my breasts. Plumping up my hair, I decide to check all my supplies for the hundredth time. Everything is in order.
