The First Wielder

Chapter sixteen: Didn't You Notice

SIXTEEN

She knew she's a sinner, there was no doubt. But now was the only time she ever felt this rush of emotions bubble inside her. Over a dead body, nonetheless.

The girl harmed and killed people in the past. That's why she has a knife with her. There are people that come for her head so all she does is return the same gesture.

She also does it for self-defense like she always does. If she didn't pull the trigger, there was a chance they wouldn't be back at the Academy given the circumstances they had.

So why?

Should she be glad they had one less person to worry about?

Should she be sad that she murdered someone on her own accord?

Or should she be displeased at the fact that their opponent fell so quickly?

No, plainly thinking about what you should feel when you killed someone is wrong.

But that physical physique manipulator named Max literally tried to kill her and the Hargreeves. Why should she feel any sympathy?

Her mind was a mess.

Abigail paced around the kitchen, bitting her thumb with a troubled expression on her face. She was lost in thought and was barely acknowledging anything around her. Her mind replayed the scene over and over again, racking for any possible excuse she could think of to ease herself.

But holy shit, it was the first time she killed someone with a gun.

It felt so weird.

Yet so...

She stopped.

Abigail looked down, eyes glued to her hands that held the cold metallic object for the first time.

Her hands were shaking.

She clasped her hands together and placed them above her chest. Her knees gave out and she squatted on the floor, hearing her erratic heartbeat.

A hand was placed on her shoulder.

She spun, swatting the hand away as she stood up and staggered back.

Abigail was met with a pool of stunned blue.

Five was met with a pool of petrified gray.

His right hand was still in the air as he stared at the person in front of her. He couldn't move for some reason, his mind occupied by the appalling state of the girl.

It was the first time he'd seen her that way.

He felt his chest tighten.

"Abigail," he called out but the girl had her head down, avoiding any eye contact.

Five stared at how she clasped her hands together while pushing them close to her chest as if she was holding something so precious.

He noticed her shaking.

His hand dropped to his side.

"We have a meeting," he paused. "But I guess we can be late for five minutes."

"No, it's alright," Abigail's voice came as a whisper.

She strode past Five and was about to leave the kitchen when a hand grabbed her wrist.

"You're shaking," he said.

"And what of it?" She replied.

The two were silent.