This Wicked Fate

Chapter One

Chapter 1— 100 years later

Darcy

"Why?" he cried out, frantically trying to stop the blood gushing from his abdomen. I had missed, but in my defense, he did move. "Why are you doing this? We're supposed to be together and grow old together!"

I twirled the small, shining handgun around my ring finger. "No we're not, Daniel. You aren't him."

"I'm not who? Please, I don't understand," his voice was shaking horribly and his eyes were pleading for his life. His eyes, why did they have to be blue?

"Shh, I know," I soothed. He'd given up on running away, too weak to fight back anymore. I walked toward him slowly and held his head in my hands. His blonde hair was brown with sweat that stuck to my fingers as they ran through his hair. I hushed him again as I placed the gun at the back of his head; a clear shot. "I'm so sorry."

The shot echoed through the abandoned building. Daniel's body fell forward. It was done.

I dropped the gun to the floor, "Dispose of him."

Riff and Rathe appeared from the shadows. The usual routine ensued. They knew what to do. Just as they were about to start their work, I realized I was about to be late for mine.

"I have to take off, but you two know what to do," I told them. "I'll leave the cash by the door."

They didn't say a word, but they hardly ever did aside from the "yes Miss Eaton" or "no Miss Eaton." But they did their job well and I was never really in the mood for conversation anymore anyway. On the way out, I left the money where I said I would and closed the door behind me like nothing had happened. I had done this plenty of times, it almost seemed normal now, almost. I've stopped feeling bad for what I'd done too.

No one had ever told me that if your soulmate dies before you'd been together for ten years that a new soulmate would replace him. I've been eighteen for so long. At first I loathed the thought of being eighteen forever, but I soon began to like it. Eighteen felt powerful.

Once I got to the hospital, I changed into my scrubs. I may have just killed my soulmate, but there was work to be done. The hospital was filled with work and buzzing doctors and nurses and anxious patients. A few stopped to greet me.

"Hello Doctor Eaten, how are you today?"

"Good morning, Doctor Eaton."

I responded with a simple one word answer to all and moved on with my work, always so much work. Why did I ever want to be a doctor?

Kiran

Why did I ever want to be a writer? Who in their right mind would ever hate themselves enough to say one day, "oh hey, I think I should be a writer and spend the rest of my life going crazy." I'm starting to think it was the worst decision of my life. Twelve years of this, and what did I have to show? A novel? Oh no, not even close. Just a bunch of half written ideas and a head full of crazy. If I wasn't stuck at eighteen years old, I'd probably have a full head of gray hair by now.

The only thing that kept me at it was Cara and the promise I had made her. My sweet little sister, my biggest fan, she believed in me right from the start. I can remember the promise I made her like yesterday. She made me promise that one day I would get a novel published and that I would have it dedicated to her. If it weren't for that promise, I would've given up by now.

I reread what I had written on the my laptop. It was so horrible that it made me cringe. I deleted it and closed my laptop angrily. Just as I slumped into my spinning chair, my pocket vibrated. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. A quick look at the number told me that it was my parents.

"Hello," I answered.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!" my parents belted into the phone. I pulled it away from my ear and let them finish. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear KIRAN! Happy birthday to YOU!"

"Thanks Mom and Dad," I said. "You guys get better every year."

I heard rustling on the other end as Dad took the phone, "So son, twenty-five, huh?You're getting up there, but the good thing is you don't look a single day past eighteen."

"Oh, Bob, stop teasing him," there was more rustling as Mom, I assumed, took the phone back. "We'd like to take you out for dinner tonight, if you didn't already have plans?"

"Oh no, Mom," I said adjusting my crooked glasses. "I'm free as a bird."

"Wonderful," I could hear her smile through the phone. "Asher should be coming. We were thinking of taking you to that nice, little Italian Bistro downtown."

"That sounds great. I'll see you guys then, love you."

"Love you," they both crooned back.

Maybe crazy is just in the gene pool.