They say youth is the most beautiful moment in life.
I say not.
My youth turned out to be a catastrophe, a ruined words between lines. I scribbled my own letters but nonetheless of what I do or say, my life would still be an unrhymed poem and I'm the poet who cant string a single word, a poet who cant love her own work.
"Have you decided to join us?" Ras Powley, a member of the vigilant group called Cast Dispatcher, is standing by the window.
"I'll work on my own."
I mop the fabric I usually use on my sword to clean the stain of blood without fluttering my eyes to him.
"Shame. But I thought this time you finally made up your mind. Your talent for killing is useful not only for us but for the entire dry-state area."
"I don't mope with noisy people." The voices are enough to keep me company.
After I discovered that the only way to calm my mind is to kill, I became a freelance assassin for the Cast Dispatcher. They recruited 5 years ago to get rid of corrupt politicians, good-for- nothing filthy rich people, and civilians who appears to choose evil deeds.
"Hold on." Colin Ritter throw his cable, a long thick steel wire, caught the leg of an 8 year old girl. "Aren't you asking for a bit much, trying to run away like that?"
Another guy named Bryne Moseley says, "How pathetic. Running when facing the enemy. Though figures who wouldn't run in this state?"
"You worthless hicks! You call yourselves vigilante when you're all the same as cattle. You should be lock up in a barn and that bitch," The 8 year old points at me. "She killed my father who contributed billions in the economy. I'm going to kill her. It irritates me how her hair looks smooth when she's only a lowly leech murderer."
Noise. Pollution.
Colin draw back his cable and instantly annihilate the leg. "My bad. My hand slipped."
The girl cried out in pain and I could hear the defeaning voices in my head again. Her scream, triggers my sanity and I feel it hard to breath.
I put back the napkin in my pocket and walk to the hopeless one-legged girl. I swing my sword in the air and stroke her neck. Her head rolled to the floor.
"A family of sadist, disguised as Good Samaritans."
YOU ARE READING
LYSSOPHOBIA
Short StoryInside the MIND of an eighteen year old girl who's BROKEN by an EMOTIONAL PSYCHOPATH. She lives by the scent of blood, she worships the blade, she have a fear she doesn't want to tell - going insane. How will she survive the cruel world without th...
