I have always been on my own. That's how it is supposed to be. That's how I wanted it to be.
I am a bounty hunter. It is what I was made to do. I was created for this purpose. As a child I never enjoyed the idea of settling down. I loved the hunt. Some think that bounty hunters are the problem. However, it is the people that hire the bounty hunter. Bounty hunters are just doing their job, as a mother does with taking care of her child.
I was ten when I took my first kill. It was the murderer of my parents. The warm crimsoned blood on my hands is something I can never forget. My first kill had came knocking on the door of my house in the middle of the night before bed. My parents didn't know him. I can still remember my dad asking him if he needed help when he opened the door. Everything changed in a second when the man lifted up a blaster to my fathers head and pulled the trigger. My mom pushed me under the table I was eating dinner on before giving me a look of fear. I'll never forget that. I heard her footsteps running over to the counter grabbing a knife before heading towards the source of the noise. We didn't have a blaster or any weapons in the house. We never had a reason to.
I heard my mother scream before saying, "Get out of my house."
"Is there anyone else in the house?" the man said.
"No." my mother had replied in a serious and believable tone that even I would have believed her.
"Good. Good."
Before I could process anything else I heard rapid footsteps before the noise of the blaster being shot off and the knife hitting to the ground. I closed my eyes knowing that I didn't need to see to believe that my mother was shot. I cupped my hand over my mouth as I felt a sob rising.
No. He will not get away with this. I opened my eyes to see nothing but a blur as more tears started to cloud my vision. I wiped my eyes before crawling out from underneath the table. My blood went cold as I saw the scene in front of me. My dad laying on his back with a wound straight through his forehead and my mother laying on her back with her head facing towards me, eyes still wide open with tear satined cheeks.
Anger is all I felt. In that moment I didn't care about making it out alive. All I cared about was spilling his blood as he did with my parents. He was facing his back to me, looking outside the open door in a deep thought. I could smell the stench of alcohol on him as I started to stalk closer to him. He showed my parents no mercy. None. Drunk or not everybody has demons to battle. Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be free. I looked down seeing the knife my mother took from the kitchen and picked it up.
No mercy. Tonight my demons will be free.
I ran towards the man, light on my feet before jumping on him. Digging the knife deep into the side of his neck. I heard the choking noises coming from him as he started to choke on his blood. I could feel the warm blood flow onto my hand and nightgown.
"She lied." I whispered into his ear before I digging the knife deeper into his neck before turning it and pulling it out. His body fell forward in a bloody mess.
I gripped the knife tighter before letting out a scream throwing it at the wall by the door. I looked towards my dead parents before looking at the man I just killed. I just killed a man. I walked towards my mom before dropping to my knees. I ran my bloody hand over her eyelids to allow her to rest. I leaned down and gave her a kiss on her forehead before getting back up slowly towards the door.
I have nothing here anymore. I looked down at the knife by the door before picking it back up, holding it tight in my hand. I turned my head one last time looking at my parents saying the goodbyes that they would never hear before walking out the door and never coming back.
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Enigma | The Mandalorian
FanfictionEnig•ma (noun): a person who is a mystery. Never truly know what he or she is thinking or their motives. Season one: Complete Season two: Complete *Currently adding scenes from the Book of Boba Fett* Highlight comments: *coming soon, trying to pick...