Love in Bullets

1| Agent 0013

She saw no love in the bullets she fired.

She watched a man that so bloody his skin was practically red instead of a deep caramel. There were droplets running down his brow, finally meeting the floor as they work their way down his double chin.

She watched a man that fought so hard, never once claiming he was tired or surrendering, crumble to the floor. His knees hit first, shock present on his face as his hand clutched his stomach. It was not the first bullet that pierced him.

In fact, it was the third and final one.

She admired his will to live, knowing that he had a wife that knew nothing about what he does-did, rather-just like he didn't know she was pregnant.

She knew because it was her job, but she felt sympathy because she was still human.

She knew how hard it can be to raise a child with two parents, take one away and the other parent will slowly crumble along with the child. She should know, because for eight years of her life she was that child.

She sat at home with her sister who could barley comprehend why she was sad, always waiting for her mom to walk through the door. And she would. Day after day, after working long hours, until one day she didn't walk through the door alone.

Instead, she brought her demise.

Small coughs were all the man seemed able to let out, besides a small chuckle. She didn't understand how he could show her how much pain he was in so easily. She had been taught to do the exact opposite, only be vulnerable if you wanted death.

"It's been awhile since someone could take me down, although it was fun. Don't ya' think?"

She just stared at him with a face as sharp as glass. She wasn't trying to glare at the dying man, it was just her natural expression.

"Do know my name, شخص شاب?"

Agent 0013 looked at him with distaste for the nickname. "Young one" made her sound innocent and fragile, and she was anything but fragile.

She continued to say nothing, only blinking at him, which somehow seemed to be all the answer he needed.

She never liked to learn her targets names, she felt that it would only add on to the guilt she already felt. She had tortured many, and killed many more, but no one had ever asked her if she knew their name.

A small smile formed on the mans cut up lips.

"It's Malik," he said calmly, as if she wasn't bleeding out on the dirty floor of a warehouse. His eyes were still trained on her but his brows were pulled together in what she could either tell was concentration or pain. To her, it looked more like the latter.

She continued to only stare at him in a 'I do not care' type of stance. Her form never wavered as he continued coughing up blood, not as his hand began to shake while applying pressure to where she had shot him thrice in his midsection. 

"Have you ever loved someone so much that you can't stand to not be around them, Agent 0013? Have you ever held someone you love dearly in your arms as they wept? Have you felt your heart-your very soul-start to collapse as they cried?" 

She had. But she would not give him the sick satisfaction of telling him that. 

"Ah, maybe it was the other way around, huh? Maybe you were the cause of their tears-" what Malik was saying was all true and it was killing her with every word that he let past his chapped lips.

"Maybe they shook when they cried."

She did.

"Maybe they backed away from you like you were a plague."

She did.

"Maybe they left you."

She did. 

Her jaw un-intentionally clenched at the memory of her once most dearest companion backing away from her. She called her disgusting, she called her a monster. 

And then she turned around and left.

0013 pulled out her gun once more, aiming and firing at his leg. Malik let out a small scream, the sound bouncing off the warehouses' cement. And to her surprise-which is rare since she is not often surprised-Malik starts laughing as if he heard the most funny joke ever. 

She knew this man was a little off but now she had to believe he was insane.

"I guess I hit the jackpot. Someone left-" he paused again, trying to conceal his laughter. "Someone left you; someone completely walked out on you because of your job." Malik's dark eyes turned thoughtful, like he was remembering what-more like who-gave him the experience. 

"It happened to you I take it?" Agent 0013 hadn't talked in six years, and Malik knew that. Everyone knew that. 

Some thought she had no tongue, others think she just doesn't care enough to talk to anyone. No one knows why she doesn't talk. Only she does. And she vowed a long time ago to keep it that way. 

"Ah, so you do have a tongue." He took another pause, just like earlier, to chuckle. "What happened to me is irrelevant now. After all," Malik formed a sickly sinister smile on his beard guarded face, "I'm going to be dead in two minutes anyway."

0013 raised her gun again, realizing that she should have finished the job well over ten minutes ago. She didn't want to end the mans life, Malik hadn't really done anything other than steal from her boss. She knew this was the job, but she had never hated it more than in this moment. 

It had felt good to talk again, even if it was to someone who she had to kill. And if it was even just one sentence; it's one longer that she had said in six years.

"I'm sorry, Malik." She softened her voice the slightest bit. She aimed her gun at his forehead as his eyes closed; awaiting what was inevitable. 

"I'm sorry."

Malik was now dead. 

Another kill on her already blood soaked hands.