Time OFF

Request 45

This was a universe just like ours, but different in many ways.

Request number 65. I was running behind schedule by over forty requests. I was going through a rough time, and taking bad requests wasn't exactly what I needed. I didn't have another option, once becoming a volunteer, you stay till life. Not because you didn't have another option, but because the job takes everything away from you. A volunteer was not a normal person, a volunteer was an emotional black hole for the rest of society. Everyone comes to you with tears in their eyes and deep grief in their souls, and you are the last hope of salvation. The most common request was death. Usually, this request was denied over and over again until it reached a point where the request was so overwhelming that the initial request maker was faced with his own death. At that moment, they had only one chance, and that was finding a volunteer like me. I was more or less an assassin, playing God's role, and determining human destinies.

The most urgent one was request 45. I couldn't erase the face of that kid from my memory. Molested for over five years by her dad, she was traumatized for eternity. Without a mother to protect her, the kid was constantly maltreated and that was notable by the scars all over her body. If there was something I couldn't stand that was child maltreatment. These people deserve more than death, they have to pay the price with the most severe punishments for their inhumane crimes. I could tear apart his body, limb by limb, and maybe take his face off. I'm not a psychopath, but you can't treat a monster kindly. They have to pay their debts. I had a nasty photo of the guy and his address which was more than enough.

I didn't plan to be a volunteer, but it just happened. My neighborhood was full of criminals and drug addicts who were regularly racketeering my grandfather's store. One unfortunate day, one of these street rats broke into the store and shot my grandfather three times in the chest. He had to pay off and that's how I ran across the voluntary market. I found a reckless man ready to do anything that was right according to his principles. He told me that the most human emotion is compassion and the ones who avenge the battered and the mistreated are the heroes of today's violent world. I don't know if he was right, but I took this troublesome path that brings a lot of pleasure and pain at the same time.

The minutes before meeting the target were always giving me an adrenaline rush even after thousands of completed requests. I was standing in front of a green panel door with a 17 mm glock hidden under my coat. A middle-aged white man sitting in a wheelchair opened the door. This couldn't be the same guy. I took the photo out of my pocket and there was no mistake. Such moments of hesitation have occurred in the past and I knew they never lead to anything good. There was no place for mercy and the monstrous act had to be punished. I recalled the kid's eyes full of hope for revenge and I couldn't let his appearance fool me. Three angry bullets flew to the man's head, leaving a shapeless face and a beautiful flow of blood leaking on the floor.

64 requests remaining, it was going to be a long month. The benefit from being a volunteer was being above the law. Murdering an ugly motherfucker was absolutely acceptable when executed under a request. It was freeing you from sleepless nights and a guilty conscience. The downfall was numerous unsuspected enemies that may wait for you behind the corner. A volunteer was always on the alert.

Three knocks on the door.

I had another guest with an unusual request. Death. The killer was killing the killer and the circle continued.