Heartless

1

Reading. It's fascinating how one can fit a whole story of a hopeless soul in a few hundred pages, filled with dull words and exaggerated phrases. It's quite a thrilling ride. I tend to stay off the romantic genre. I don't believe in true love. Well, I don't believe in love in general. Just the thought of it makes me gag. It makes me feel weak and naive, two feelings I absolutely detest. Every few times I feel a slight sentiment for someone, I kill them off. It's easier to let go, knowing they can never come back.

I know my methods of living are quite controversial. The number of hate letters or calls I'd get from my enemies is an abundance. "Kill yourself," or, "You'll pay for what you did to my son". They're all fairly entertaining, so I tend to look forward to getting them daily as my morning read.

It was 1972 in London and I spent most of my life killing and killing more. Why? Well, first it's quite fun. But that never seemed to be the answer anyone wants. So I try to come up with another answer. Revenge? Sadness? Anger? It still stayed unanswered for many years.

My birth name is Posy Mitchell, but of course, I changed it. Who would want such a name? At 16, I changed it to Corvina Nox and anyone who still uses my birth name, I'd burn their mouth. And I'm not being sarcastic. I literally do burn their mouths.

I read in a baby names book hidden deep inside a local library that Corvina meant 'raven' or something to do with darkness in Latin, which I thought was perfect for me because my entire wardrobe is filled with only black clothes. And Nox came to me from a dream where I had a faceless, tall man who kept calling me Nox. That dream never went away and so that name didn't either. I still remember it perfectly to this day. The dim street light and the shadow of a man in a dark cloak. He kept calling me Nox over and over again in the darkest voice I'd ever heard. Shivers ran down my spine every time the slight thought of it lingered.

"Ms. Nox... Ms. Nox?" I heard a voice coming from the doorway.

"What? Can't you see I'm about to enter into a perfectly terrible chapter?" I lifted up my book towards the messenger who backed up.

"It's an emergency." His voice came out shaky and weak. Pathetic.

"Ugh, fine." I placed my book down on the coffee table and headed towards the small boy.

"And you really need to fix this situation," I pointed to the hideous clothes he was wearing covered in what I only hoped was dirt.

"Yes Ms.," he tilted down his head and led me through the hallway.

The hallway specifically led to a hidden basement where I would work and discuss with spies almost everything. The small boy opened up the door and showed me the way, although I already knew it. Sometimes I thought they believed I was stupid or something, which I absolutely did not allow. At the round table set in the middle of the room was my assistant, Brea Harlow, and one of my better spies (I forgot his name). He looked wretched with his small beret and a red vest covered in dirt. I would forget that most of my spies were dressed as newspaper boys.

"What happened?" I tilted my head, hoping he didn't blow his cover.

"Ms. Nox, I have bad news. One of your enemies has begun planning for your death." He took off his beret, exposing the bird's nest of hair on his head.

"Oh," I was surprised at how unimportant the message is, "What's the big deal? I hear those every day." I laughed loosely, but everyone stayed stiff.

"Yes ma'am. The thing is this is one of your bigger enemies." He looked down, not daring to look into my eyes.

"One that has killed more than you have," he said.

I crossed my hands over my chest, "And who could that be?"

"Ethan Phoenix."

Ethan Phoenix. One of my greater enemies. One I wished to kill so bad but I couldn't because he was a sly, stupid man. I hated him for a long time, ever since the first time.

I'd met him before, if one considers hiding in a building 1 km away from him with binoculars, "meeting" then yes, I have met him. He was tall and always had his black hair slicked back. The last time I saw him, which was about a year ago, his left eye was crimson red while the other was normal black. People said he got it after his first kill, which I believe was only a coincidence. And if I had distinctly remembered, he wore those hideous shoes with a tip at the end pointing outwards. It made him look like a ridiculous elf if I had to be honest.

I don't exactly remember why we were great enemies, but all that was important was to try to kill the other. He'd sent 49 spies to my court which I obviously could tell and killed all of them. I expected him to send the 50th one soon.

"Alright. We'll let him come to me and I'll sort it all out if you know what I mean." I smirked at them.

"The thing is he is waiting for you to come to him."

"That's stupid." I laugh thinking about his ridiculous plan that will evidently fail.

"If I may intervene," Brea walked up, "I think this could become a good plan. Think about it. You've killed all of his spies, which means he has no idea what you look like. So, you can be undercover as someone and kill him after a few days. Plus, you've always wanted to kill him yourself."An evil smile plastered on her face.

"You're kidding. That's a horrible idea." Judy showed up from the dark corner. I didn't know she was standing there this entire time. Judy was my 2nd assistant, the one I certainly did not give the same appreciation to as Brea, but she was just so abnormally annoying.

"Well, do you have another plan?" Brea bites back at her. They both never got along very well and they wouldn't stop fighting, which was a definite waste of time.

"Okay, stop it. Both of you need to stop." I stand between them, obviously annoyed. "I don't mind the plan. If we know what to do, it may successfully work." I looked at both of them, Brea looking much happier than Judy.

"Great," Brea walked up.

"Now tell me the plan."