There are things worse than death

"But I think, maybe, there is some validity in accepting that a part of you went with the person who died, and a part of them stayed with you"
-Anonymous
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She cracked. Her mind almost in pieces, her heart in tiny irreparable shatters. He was gone. Gone. Absolute dread ran down her spine to her core as her chest tighten with despair. Her eyes roamed over his dead body, unreadable, blank.

And she broke.

Falling to her knees, jet black hair tumbling down in front of her face, she couldn't move. Like a statue stuck in place, forever in that exact moment in time. It seemed to drone on forever. Not a tear fell from her unseeing eyes. Tremors racked her body, she didn't breath. Her heart almost seemed to stop beating in her ears.

And she didn't hear it again since that day.

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She was numb. Unfeeling. One would even go as far as to say she was dead.

Yet she still breathed. Her heart, supposedly, kept beating.

Although her eyes forever taciturn, cold, steely.

One black army clad foot in front of the other and she was already in front of you. There was no anger or vengeance in the way she killed like you thought there would be. No. She was simply gone. You're beaten and bloody, exerted after the battle. You can barely stand, but you do, no matter how bad your legs burn from the continuous running as well as the cuts and bruises they've suffered from her relentless chase.

You tremble in her presence. Pitiful.

"I am under strict orders to execute you for the assassination of Nicolas Black." She recited dutifully in a monotone. Not allowing a single emotion seep through her voice, like a good little robot.

What had she become?

She used to be known for her killer punches and not-so-silent approaches. She had the highest number of kills in the country above all of the other national hitmen HQ's. Now she killed silently without remorse. No emotion. No spirit. No smile as she took down her target. And last but not least; No husband by her side, taking out enemies right beside her, always having her back. They had been inseparable.

And now he was dead.

And now she fought alone.

And now she was dead inside, her soul leaving her to accompany Nicolas's in his death.

You didn't want this, God dammit! You wanted a reaction! You wanted emotion to cloud her vision and you wanted to take her out!

That would not be happening anytime soon.

Faster than the human eye could see, she had a silenced .22 barrel pressed to the middle of his brow. She didn't waste time and your pupils dilate in absolute fear.

"Please, no." You barely whisper.

She looks you in the eyes, and you think she appears to want to say something back. But all she does is pull her finger back and continue to stare you straight in the eyes as the life leaves them. The muted gun shot rings throughout the dark abandoned building she's cornered you in.

Such a beautiful, talented woman lead to waste. Now a robot. A simple machine programmed to kill.

Now when they say there are things worse than death; it's true. The human mind is delicate, and should not be tampered with. Watch what you do, because she'll be there. Lurking in the shadows waiting. Not a single doubt in her mind that whatever she was doing was wrong because what was she? What was she without him? What had she been before him?

She didn't know.

And now no one would.

The human mind, not a thing to be tampered with indeed.

Because it'll come back to you one way or an another.

Because there are things worse than death.