Bullets were flying past me. I had no time to think—only to react. I looked over my right shoulder, past the fresh flesh wound created mere moments ago, toward the small platoon of armored men. I knew these men all too well—their black masks and matching shoulder emblems. My body felt heavy, my thoughts clouded. I still hadn’t recovered from earlier. My breathing was labored, my eyes fatigued, and it was getting harder to stay ahead.
Then, like a ray of light, I spotted a concrete shelter ahead. It looked deserted, covered in cobwebs and cracks. The door was rusted and slightly ajar. I ran inside without giving it a second thought. Pushing my back against the metal door, I took slow, deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
It would be easier if I could just kill these people.
Everything was quiet. Nobody tried to follow me into the shelter. The idea that it could be a trap crossed my mind, but even I knew that was too far-fetched for this band of mercenaries. They were strong by human standards, but not the brightest batch.
I took off the two bracelets from my left arm and placed one in each hand—one in my right, one in my left. Closing my eyes and concentrating, I guided my energy into the emblems engraved on them. The bracelet in my left hand depicted a fist; the one in my right, a gun. I felt a slight tug on my internal energy—my Particalix. I threw the bracelets to the ground, and energy formed around them. Before me stood two human-like creatures.
“Time to work.”
I raised my left arm to signal my fellow mercenaries to stop advancing. We had cornered the child we’d been chasing.
“So, what now?”
My lieutenant, standing on my right, asked the question that was on all our minds. As adults, we had every reason to fear this potential voyager of death. Luckily, we’d be ending that potential before he even realized it himself.
“Send numbers Three and Four inside to deal with him. The rest of us will wait out here in case he tries to flee.”
With a nod, my lieutenant went to relay the order. We were mercenaries—assassins. We were given numbers and told to kill. I had no issue with killing; I’d even go as far as to say I enjoyed it. But this child… he might be the only one I truly wanted to kill. He was strong, fast, intelligent—all of that, and only thirteen. The thought of the deaths and misery he could one day cause made me subconsciously crack a smile.
The sound of a sword being drawn, followed by a sickening slice, echoed from the shelter. I snapped out of my thoughts to see the two mercenaries I’d sent in—dead. Both were headless, their bodies collapsed atop one another.
What the fuck? I knew he was strong, but to kill them this easily?
“Captain, what do we do?”
“Prep—”
Before I could finish, a hulking creature emerged from the trees to our left. It looked more like a deranged man than a beast, wearing a child’s mask—a pale face with rosy pink cheeks and broken bunny ears. Duct tape covered the mouth. The mask’s hollow eyes revealed the creature’s own—pitch black and empty. It was naked except for a loincloth and stood shorter than me, maybe five feet six.
“What—is that a summons?” someone stammered.
As lower-ranked mercenaries, we didn’t have the privilege of carrying summons—not that we could activate them if we did. My mind flooded with questions. This child—a fellow low-rank assassin—had a summon. Not only that, but he could actually use it.
“A summon is only as strong as its summoner’s Particalix!” I shouted. “We can beat this thing! Give it everything you’ve got!”
At my command, bullets rained down on the creature. It didn’t move—it took every single one.
“Grahh!”
With a guttural roar, it charged. Its massive hands grabbed Mercenary Five by the forearms, one in each hand, and ripped him apart. His screams echoed through the forest, scattering the birds. It was grotesque—his intestines were the only thing still connecting both halves of his body. The rest of us stumbled back in horror.
Bam!
A bullet whizzed through the air, striking my lieutenant square in the forehead. The round exited through the back of his skull—gray matter and blood splattering across me. I turned toward the direction of the shot just as his body hit the ground. From the corner of my eye, I saw the child stepping out of the shelter.
“Hello.”
His face was youthful yet unsettling, his hollow grin and dark eyes gleaming with twisted delight. In his right hand was a long silver sword, its blade stained with blood. He raised his left arm, and lightning erupted from his palm. Before I could react, he had beheaded my last remaining teammate.
“Who sent you?”
“Why should I say anything?”
I felt my right arm hit the ground—it hurt far more than I’d imagined. Tears welled in my eyes as I clutched the bleeding stump.
“Who sent you?”
“Why should—”
My left arm fell next. I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming.
“Who sent you?”
I managed to spit out, “Go to hell.”
Both of my legs were sliced off.
“Who se—”
“I won’t answer. You’re better off killing me.”
The pain was unbearable. The world spun as my head hit the ground. I saw my limbless body lying before me. Darkness crept in, swallowing me whole. I felt like I was drowning—without water. I’d lived my life with few regrets, but not taking this child seriously would be my greatest one.
Comments (0)
See all