Nothing (Up to Chapter Four)

PROLOGUE

"Do you feel nothing?" a deep yet feminine voice called out.

"I do not feel anything." I responded promptly. I wasn't supposed to feel. I am supposed to feel nothing. I was programmed to feel nothing.

"Do you feel nothing at all?" the voice asked again.

"I don't feel anything. What of it?" I asked, my eyes darting around, looking for the source of this mysterious voice, feeling the need to destroy the source. Destroy irritation, feel no love, only hate. That was what they programmed me for. That is how they modified my brain.

"Oh but you will..." a different voice asked, higher pitched and just as eerie.

"...And it will be the death of you..." The voice echoed throughout. It repeated about six times before it stopped. I turned, saw a shadow and lunged to attack, but fell forward.

But then I woke up.

　

Chapter One

The sun tentatively peeped through the off-white blinds of my current place of residence. The place was an old motel, the walls adorned with antique-looking floral patterened wall paper. The light on the ceiling was frosted glass and, upon turning it on, it gave the whole room a sort of golden glow. The floor was carpeted in flat carpet, a plain eggshell color. The doors were all a light colored wood that I assumed to be pine. The doorknobs were faux brass, as was the bar on the far left wall, almost directly next to and above the bed, meant for hanging what few clothes I brought.

All I really brought were a few black teeshirts, a pair of darkwash jeans, a couple pairs of shorts; one athletic one dark denim, and one waist-length peacoat, also black. I had one pair of shoes, a simple pair of black tennis shoes, black laces. I had one pair of large-framed sunglasses. I was supposed to blend into the darkness, that's the only time I really worked. I stayed inside during the day, but once night fell, I needed to get down to work. I looked at the clock, it was seven thirty.

The sun will be setting soon...

I thought. Once night falls, it's go time. My missions were always odd. I have stolen, planted, set everything from traps to bombs, held up traffic, held up a bank, and I've fired shots. But, like I was meant to, I was gone before I could see if anyone had died.

I looked out the second story window, the hotel too cheap to install a screen. I watched as the sun set, putting my sunglasses on over my eyes. From looking in the mirror, they looked cold and icy, a flat blue while still being bigger than most eyes. I had black lashes, long and thick but not standoffish. I was made to be average more or less. I had a small nose, a light smattering of freckles on my face. Just across my face on my nose and my high cheekbones. I had medium sized brows, not too thick, not too thin. They were just there.

I had a short, dark-brown bob resting on top of my head, slight waves, just not enough to be considered curly. My heart-oval face wasn't too short, and my chin was rounded. My ears were a normal size and didn't stick out too far from my head. My lips were full, but not puffy. Like Angelina Jolie gone down a couple sizes.

The sun set lower and lower in the orange-hued sky. The sun itself was like a big ball of blood in the sky, an eerily red shade. I watched as it sank in the sky, going what seemed to be too slow. I could see the almost opaque appearance of the moon when I peered around the building. There were a few white stars that I could see...but only if I looked close enough.

I put on and laced my shoes quickly, not wasting any time before putting on my dark peacoat, lacing it tightly around my waist. I pulled my hair up into a small ponytail and put on a black hat, a ballcap without a logo, and putting my small pony through the hole in the back.