Mikhail

2

I lurked in the shadows, among the trees, watching, waiting to put my bullet through her skull, to free the world of another murderer.

The woman I'd been paid to kill sat by a building bonfire, fortifying the flames by adding more kindling and wood, poking it occasionally.

She wore a checkered blue blouse on top of denim jeans. The fire illuminated her face, and I could see that she was even more beautiful than the picture proved.

Such a pity that she had such a vile soul.

Aiming the gun in my hand, I trained it on her. Though it was night and the woods were dark, a year of training as an assassin had made me a shoot-and-kill. I'd never missed a target in the five years I'd been doing this job.

I was just about to pull the trigger when a sweet, melodious voice filled the silence of the woods. It took me a second to realize it was coming from her, and I froze, something which had never happened before.

She was singing, and I vaguely remembered hearing that song in a cartoon I'd watched as a child, but I very vividly remembered all the times my mother had sang it to me when I was a kid.

🎵For one so small, you seem so strong
My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm
This bond between us can't be broken
I will be here don't you cry.🎵

Growing up, my mother had practically sang that song to me every night before I slept, even when I turned ten. It only ceased when she and my dad were brutally murdered by goons of the town's mafia boss.

Hell, did she have a child? Why didn't Mateo and Rita tell me that? I hadn't anticipated on killing a mother.

I knew how it felt for your parents to be ripped out of your life and I'd sworn to never inflict that on a child unless the parent I was out to kill was also abusive or made their children unhappy.

But there was no one else around the woman. Maybe she was singing that song because she just felt like it. I was just about to take aim again when I stepped on a small tree branch.

It cracked with a loud snap that echoed through the stillness of the night. The singing ceased. The woman spun around on the log she was sitting on, eyes filled with fear.

“Who is it? Is somebody there?” The fear was almost tangible in her voice, a voice which sounded so familiar but which I couldn't quite place.

I was hiding behind some thick bushes lined up beside a tree. It took her five seconds to spot me. This was just my perfect opportunity to raise my gun and shoot her.

She would die with the shock of not knowing why a stranger would want her dead.

Instead, I found myself tucking the gun behind the waistband of my pants, stepping out of the shadows.

Her eyes took me in tensely. “Are you lost?” Her voice was rather calm. There was a hint of wariness in her it though even if the look in her eyes had mellowed to curiosity.

“Uh... Yes, I think so. I've never been to these parts. I decided to take a stroll through the wood but I've been wandering for a while. Guess I am lost. I came here because I heard you singing.”

Okay, why the heck was I lying?

“Oh.” She said simply, looking away with a sheepish expression that surprised me.

When she looked back at me, she was definitely blushing. “Hope you didn't come here because you thought my voice was horrible.”

This was so uncharacteristic of a coldblooded murderer

“Quite the opposite.” I said. She had an enchanting voice and I couldn't deny it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere.

That was when I noticed the small bundle of feathers on her lap. I stepped closer to the bonfire. “You're going to have it for dinner?”

She widened her eyes at me. “What? No. Not this poor thing. The rain beat him this evening and he's going to die without warmth.”

“Why do you care about it so much?” I asked much sharply than I'd intended to.

I was getting irritated and I didn't even know why. Maybe it was because of the fact that she cared more about a bird than a human being.

Certainly not because she was beginning to seem less and less a murderer.

“I don't know. I just do.” She answered quietly. There was so much innocent air around her. Then suddenly, her face brightened at me. “You said you liked my voice. Should I sing for you again.”

Without waiting for a reply,  she lasped into the rhythm of 'my mother's' song. Something tugged at my heart and I stood transfixed.

What the hell was I doing? Why wasn't I pulling out my gun and blowing her head off? Normally, once I accepted a contract, I did the job without delay. I never even gave my victims the chance to beg for their lives.

So why was I hesitating on killing this woman?

After she was done singing, she issued me a look of pure exhilaration and expectation, as if expecting me to applaud her. When I didn't, she clapped for herself excitedly.

“Have I told you you look familiar?” She asked after some awkward silence. Suddenly she placed the bird on a log of wood some distance away and got up.

Crossing over to where I stood, she stretched out her hand. “By the way, I'm Montserrat. Everybody calls me Montse so you can too. What's your name?”

Her name and the way she'd introduced herself beguin to ring a bell but that was the last thing I was thinking about. Why was she being so open?

As far as I knew, coldblooded killers were always closed of, more calculating of danger.

I glared hard at her hand, bemused that she seemed so complex. On one hand, I wanted to do the job ASAP and leave, but on the other hand, I wasn't the kind of assassin who took innocent lives. And everything about this woman screamed innocent.

Montserrat withdrew her hand, pouting. “You could've at least shaken my hand if you didn't want to tell me your name. That reminded me so much of someone.”

Then her eyes narrowed, gaze focused on me, really focused on me. Like she was forcing herself to remember where she knew me from. All of a sudden, her eyes widened with recognition.

“You're the guy who never said thank you! Mikhail!”

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Okay, what do you think about our damsel in distress? Don't forget to vote and comment.

LOL(Lots Of Love)
–Enock