The Killer

Prologue

"Mum, I'm not happy," a girl with jet black hair grumbled, dragging her feet behind her as she followed her twin brother into a big house. With seven bedrooms, her dissatisfaction was not apparent to many. "I liked it better at our old home. This place is scary. It's too big!"

"Nora, it'll be okay," the girl's mother crooned, patting the girl on the head. Nora pouted, still looking upset, but her expression relaxed when her brother smiled at her.

"Come on, Nora!" he called out, beckoning for her to follow him. The kids looked like they were 11 or 12 years old. "We'll have so much more space now!" He showed her around the empty house, pointing to random rooms. "We can play piano in that one. Mum and Dad will move our piano here, I hope, and, look there, we'll have an even bigger library now! Remember, the one back home used to be so full?"

"But I knew where everything was..."

"We're smart; we'll know where everything is again." Her brother shrugged, and made a motion for her to follow him up the stairs. "And look, it's double-storey, not single-storey like the old place."

"I saw that from outside, Noah. Look, I know that it's great, but I feel like this is too... extravagant." Nora sighed and sat down on the steps. "I want to go back home. I feel like we're showing off how rich we are by living in a place like this."

"Mum and Dad worked hard for this," Noah said, taking a seat next to her. "We need to be happy, for them."

Nora sighed again, reluctantly nodding. "I'll try my best. I just... How did Mum and Dad even get this type of funding? What are they even doing to get this?"

"They're researchers, and you know that they were pretty popular with their recent find."

"I know, but, for someone to actually fund us? To go to this weird private school? I liked our public school much better..."

"It wasn't challenging enough. We skipped too many grades."

"I know but, my friends there..."

"They were all 6 years older than us."

"It didn't make a difference. You know as much as me that in order to be friends with someone, you just have to be on the same mental level."

"Look, just calm down, okay? We'll fit in, this house will be better. It'll be fine, Nora." Noah patter her shoulder and stood up. "I'm going to analyse my room in a lot of detail. I can't wait to start painting and making it to my taste."

"Okay. Have fun." Nora's voice was deadpan and she still didn't seem convinced that it was a good idea.

And it turned out not to be. Because a few weeks later, upon returning from school with her brother, all it took was two gunshots: a gunshot to each of their stomachs, to leave them stumbling and clutching at their sore, bleeding wounds, in which the bullets had lodged themselves in the area below their rib cages.

Noah was the first to pass out, fading in and out of consciousness, unable to see the attackers, but Nora saw it all. She saw the bloodstains on the wall, the bodies of her parents, who were not breathing, and her attackers dressed in black clothing and masks. Panic filled her body, as well as something else: adrenaline. She had to live. She had to alert someone...

But they were going to die. Noah was already collapsed, and she had little chance of surviving. It was in a fatal area, she knew from reading many medical magazines, but if she was going to die anyway... Let it be her death mission.

Having also fallen to the ground, feeling weak despite the bullet wound not the enormous pain she expected, she started crawling. Her attackers watched her, seeming curious at her behaviour and will to live. She dragged herself to the door, blood dripping from between her fingers which clutched at her stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and with as much strength as she could muster, tried to stand up to open the door.

"Enough." A young male voice boomed. "Nora, you've passed the test."

She stopped struggling, her little attention on the speaker now, as she tried fighting her focus from the pain radiating from her belly.

"Treat her now. She's the survivor."

She couldn't see the speaker, didn't have the strength to turn around. She felt warm, gloved hands lift her up gently, but by then she had no strength to fight, no strength to move. A test? Was this all fake? Yet, why did it hurt so much?

Nora couldn't understand, and wouldn't, at least, not until her eyes that were slowly closing opened again.