Alone • Liam Dunbar

Two

My hands shook as they held the gun. I had done target practice before, but now the barrel was aimed at a living thing. If I pulled the trigger it wouldn't be the same as ripping a paper target, it would be flesh and blood, and it would be murder.

Kate leaned close to my ear, her dirty blonde curls tickling my cheek.

"You have to pull the trigger, Jac." She spoke softly, as if she was a nurturing mother, but her tone hid venom. She was a snake in the tall grass, stalking her unwitting prey. 

"I - I can't." I shook my head. Tears slipped from my eyes and down my cheeks, and the taste of salt filled my mouth as they graced my lips.

The man in front of me had pleading eyes that glowed blue. He begged for his life as he tried to crawl backward. He was frail and thin, a weak Omega, all on his own. There was no one to help him or even mourn for him.

"Please, don't make me do this." I openly sobbed as I turned away. Kate gripped the back of my head, forcing me to look at the man again. She always forced me to look. 

"Either you kill him, or you're all alone." She hissed. "This is what we do, Jacqueline. We hunt those who hunt us. Do you want to be in our family or not?"

A family. My first was stolen from me by creatures like the man who begged for mercy. I had a chance at a second one. His eyes were blue. He had killed innocent people. This was justified.

Wasn't it?

Kate let go of my head and shifted her hand to my shoulder, squeezing it in a manner she probably thought was reassuring.

"You'll be a part of our family, isn't that what you want?" She asked sweetly.

My sobs died down and my face grew as cold as hers. I nodded, and I could feel her wicked smile growing against my skin as she pressed her lips to my ear to whisper.

"Then pull the trigger."

---

The echo of a gunshot rang through my head as I shot up from where I'd been laying. A desperate gasp escaped me as I sought air after the nightmare of my first kill. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, the throbbing sensation in my head asking me to resist doing so for a little while longer. 

Hands came to my shoulders, a tender grip that I had to push away. The memory of Kate holding me was too fresh, and it didn't matter if it wasn't her, my mind tricked itself into believing it was.

"Take it easy." Scott demands as I stand without assistance. 

I grunt as I finally opened my eyes, adjusting to the light in the room. Spouts of showers and porcelain sinks lined the moldy walls around us. Water dripped from their bent pipes and leaked over the grey concrete floors. At some point, this must have been a group shower room, but it was nothing more than a holding cell now.

There were a few mirrors on the far wall too. They were all cracked, their shards most likely used for escape by numerous prisoners before us. I don't bother to think of that as a decent idea, knowing full well there were dozens of armed Calaveras waiting for us around the compound that could pull a trigger faster than I could cut them with a sliver of glass. 

My reflection stares back at me tiredly. There was a thin stream of blood that poured from the edge of my temple, revealing where I'd been hit. It matted up a section of my hair and made the strands appear darker than normal. 

I approach one of the mirrors, turning on the faucet of the sink that sat below it. I pull my hair loose from the braid I typically kept it tied in, and begin to cleanse myself as best I can while it was still damp. I hated how difficult it was to scrub dried blood, and didn't feel like adding that to the list of our problems.