Headstrong and confident, Mira was trained from a young age to be an assassin of the supernatural kind. Trained by her uncles in the "family business". Now at the age of twenty, fueled by the death of her brother and her thirst for vengeance, Mira h...
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I stood unamused. The gun pointed at my forehead didn't scare me. The guards inexperienced quivering hand didn't scare me. I almost felt bad for him. Tonight of all nights he was up here on this rooftop pulling guard duty, essentially having no clue he'd run into trouble. That he'd run into me.
The winter storm was fast approaching. The surge of electricity traveling though my body left clues that the atmosphere was changing quicker than I'd anticipated. Massive puffs shrouded us in darkness, despite the glow from the streets below. Invisible forces blew around us, throwing up flakes of powder that violently danced like a tornado encapsulating us from the outside world.
I looked up to see the moon illuminating light between cracks in the walls of thick clouds. It was full, as I knew it would be. Time would be my biggest enemy tonight.
"You do know how to use that thing right?" I taunted turning my gaze on him, knowing he wouldn't shoot me, confident I didn't feel in danger.
His adam's apple jumped up and down a few times. Beads of clear liquid flowed down his face, but he said nothing.
"Why don't you let me show you how to use it." Before his eyes completely shut, I'd retrieved the gun from him and crumpled it to shards of dust in my hand. "Now, time for you to sleep." He was human, so I couldn't hurt him, but I could plant a minute feeling that would sedate him for hours. The massive military garb he wore, would keep him from freezing until he woke, probably consumed in a few feet of snow, but he'd live. His body fell into my arms like a wet sock. Scanning the area, I spotted vapor rising just to the left of us. That would do. Hauling his listless form to the steamy vent, I laid him to rest. The clock was ticking.
With rapid strides, I found the lookout I needed. From this spot, I climbed atop the half wall and studied the environment below, waiting.
As thin flakes floated all around, I was taken back to the beginning. The slow ember that grew into this fiery rage inside me to pursue supernatural beings grew into an obsession; one that would never be cured. My sole reason for becoming this shell of nothingness that burned hot with vengeance with every new mission of very real monsters from otherworldly places stemmed from my past. Feathery wisps of distant laughter drew me back to a field layered in lavender.
"Mira, wait up, where are we going?" my brother Brian's frail form hurried behind me, huffing. He was not someone who lived his life involved in sports. Science and books, vials holding substances that often exploded, was where he found pleasure. Yet, I begged him to join me on this one journey. I carried a secret and being the science nerd he was, I felt he would understand. With the bond we had, we often did things like this; surprise one another with silly and sometimes antagonistic pranks.
"It's just up here, come on slow poke." The expanse of the water was freeing as silky folds wavered playfully around. Warmth hit my cheeks.
Finally Brian was at my side, his chest rising and falling rapidly, "What is you just had to show me?"
Before I had the chance to point at the wisps of flowing forms dancing over the water, I felt his body crush into mine. Sinister hackling swirled around us. Black beings swam back and forth, white icy cold eyes peering straight at me. "You're next."
Not sure if I was trapped in a nightmare or not, my body heavy with dread somehow managed to land on the frigid floor of our kitchen. Screams escaping my throat in frightened panic.
The terrors didn't end there. Brians body had been recovered, yet I was forbidden to see him. My chance to say goodbye stollen from me as was my soul; our bond being severed by her jealous hands. Susan, my adoptive mother, blamed me for the loss of her one and only son. At twelve, most wouldn't be able to understand why a mom would be so cruel to a child, but I did. She knew I was different. Her and my adoptive father Paul were religious fanatics and believed I was the devil.
There had been an incident when I was ten. Susan had walked in on me after I'd accidentally cut my hand while slicing up an apple and saw the purple blood dripping onto the counter. When she'd walked over to check the wound, it had healed completely. That moment, she knew I was different and did her best to keep me hidden away.
It wasn't that I knew she had a burning dislike of me, it was that I could feel it. I could hear it. Every feeling of disgust, fear, hatred, resonated like a bull horn, right through me.
Not even a few days after Brian's passing, was I loaded up and sent off to live with my uncles. From the start, I gave them hell, even though I knew they could be trusted. Then eventually their patience and love for me flowed in and covered me like a snuggly blanket and I let my walls fall. Just when I relented my rage, and let them in, I learned they had their own secret.
I'd snuck outside one evening while the stars were still high and saw them fighting. Wanting to run and break up the fight, I planted my feet firmly to the ground and made myself watch. When my uncle Stefanus knocked Wylliam off his feet and they started laughing, I had to wonder why. Me being me, I pushed them to talk about it the next day over breakfast. They refused, said I had dreamt it, they'd never fight each other.
It was a battle at first, convincing them to share it with me. Then on my fifteenth birthday, they gifted me a volume of books. They were well kept, yet looked as though they'd been read through a hundred times. The pages soft, thin and teasing my senses of frankincense every time I flipped through them, reminded me of Brian and all his science experiments.
"Now it's time." My uncle Stefanus boomed and his stout figure motioned for me to follow him out of the living space. That was the day I got my ass handed to me.
Each day we'd meet before specks of light rose over the trees that circled the training arena. We would go through fighting sessions. "Focus, you can know my every move, just allow your senses to expand." Wylliam would remind me when he'd land a kick to my mid-section. "You can stop me with just a thought if you only let that wall down damnit."
For years we trained. They taught me all forms of martial arts, even though they insisted I didn't need it. I had a knack for languages, so studied them until my eyes would bleed. My memory was photographic, my mind a sponge that never dried, learning everything I could about this human world. Fables, lore, poetry, sagas, cultures, I craved it all. Then for my eighteenth birthday, they sent me on my first mission. "You want to find those bastard things that killed Brian, this is where you start." Stefanus's abrupt words hit me as though an axe had hit me in the heart. He was right. It was all I longed for, revenge. Handing me an envelope sealed with a silver crest on it, I grabbed my things and left. The end of the beginning. My vengeance would lead me like a guided missile towards every single creature until the day I found Brians killer. Then not even the hoards of heaven or hell could keep my wrath at bay.
Brakes squealed, summoning me back to the present. Like ants rushing after a meal, people ready to partake in dulling their worries filed in line to the club down below. Many were human, with no clue they were walking into a feeding den for beings hunting their next victims. Sounds of excitement carried on the breeze. Brushing the minds of each willing body wanting to party the night away, one hit me with a apprehension that twisted my gut. Spotting her wasn't difficult, chagrin melted off her like butter to anyone who paid attention. She was clearly human. Hugging her puffy coat tight to her small stature, the brunette kept to herself, despite a tall athlete caramel lady next to her rambling on. The dark haired woman shrugged and looked around with sad eyes. The two vanished inside the club.
