Gacha Life Stories (Short Stories!)

When Two Criminals Meet

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My heart was pounding but I didn't dare show it.

     The knife curled in my hands, warm blood screeching on my long, black hoodie. I had to get out of there. Ian knew how much I hated the last process: burying the body.

     I sprinted out of the scene like a cheetah cub running for its life from a lion. I remembered Kaden telling us to trust the path, even when it was dark. Never go for a group alone. Luckily, I was one of the top students in ACS, or Assassins Crime School, so taking out one person from the enemy was simple. Most of the time.

     We were ranked third for top crime school. Third. After two idiots, Ethan and Beck, shot two members of the Leopard Pack, we earned a penalty and couldn't go on any missions for an entire week. From high-streak second to lowlife third.

     We were the Assassins. And I'm Jenice, who just finished part of the mission.

     Killing the leader, Bryce Winters, from the Black Widows.

* * *

     "Are you sick?" I asked Ian over his coughing.

     "Maybe." He curled deeper into the blanket. "I can't go today. Sorry." He coughed so loud then that it sounded like he was choking. I wrinkled my nose.

     "Yes, you can. Just bury the body and come home."

     "It's too dark and cold," he whined.

     "You idiot," I snapped. "How'd you become level seven?"

     Every six months to a year, we move up a level or retake it, depending on our scores. When you graduate-level 10, you become a mentor. Mentor at least three students that showed improvement? You're basically done. You're free into the real world, or you stay and become a teacher.

     I was a level 8. But I knew I'd never graduate. I still couldn't bury a body.

     "Says you! You can't—"

     I wrap my hands around his cold neck. "Say it and I'll choke you to death." He laughed and wheezed, and I was worried I was hurting him a bit, so I let go.

     "You can do it yourself," he said, grinning. "I believe in you."

     I hesitated. "But..." I tried thinking of a lame excuse. "My gloves are in the dryer."

     "Wear mine." He smirked. "If you don't return in thirty minutes, I'll come after you, aight?" He gave me a hug as my heart pounded faster. Not because he was hugging me, but because my life was literally at risk. If I failed, my body will be buried right next to that freaking Bryce Winters. Ian let go and looked at me seriously. "It's okay if you can't do it though. I doubt the Black Widows are going to return any time soon."

     I shook my head. "That's where you're wrong," I said. "I know they'll return. If their leader hadn't returned for six hours, they'll know something's up."

     Ian looked at me with a knowing expression. I'll have to do it right today. I only have one shot.

* * *

      It was fifty degrees outside, but it felt like 80 degrees. My hands were the only thing that shook. I stared at them as if they were unfamiliar to me. These gloves smelled a mix of faint blood and Ian's scent. I pictured his scent as a good luck charm. Then I moved forward, feeling a bit stronger, trying not to get lost.