Writing Drafts (Experiment)

First Impressions

Life doesn't always work out in your favor.

It's something I'd known for a long time now. It's something everyone who takes up this job knows. 

Everyone who takes this job has their reasons, but the most common being:

Survival and a successful life.

Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, right? Doesn't matter if you have no skills at all. You'll be supplied with proper training and diet and be turned into a fully capable and skilled assassin, and even get paid handsomely for it.

Except they can also take that all away. One misstep, and they'll remind you how you got to where you are. Your target got away? Water supply cut off for a week. You didn't properly dispose of the body? No heat during the first month of winter. And if you even try to quit, they'll ruin you.

So it's a double-edged sword. 

So I kept my mouth shut, and did my job. I did what I had to do to survive in this wretched world.

In just a matter of months I'd become the top employee of theirs. With a body count in the hundreds, and almost never getting caught, I quickly became someone who caught their attention.

I did all their dirty work for them. It didn't matter if it was a wealthy politician, or even a random homeless guy, I killed anyway. I killed and I killed and I killed.

That shit takes a toll on you. You either become desensitized and lose all empathy and/or sympathy for human life, or have a mental breakdown every time you go home.

I'd seen people come and go throughout all my years working for them turn out either way, and I didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

I'd only told one person about my plan to leave. Someone I thought I could trust. Turns out, greed was the only thing bigger than her sense of loyalty.

My guess is that the higher ups knew that if I managed to leave, they were scared I'd try to take them down. So they did what they were always good at.

*BANG!*

Sending a reminder.

As I laid on the cold, hard cement, bleeding out, I placed a hand over my heart. I prayed to whatever higher being was out there for one thing.

'I just want a chance to make things different.' I closed my eyes, and and sighed one last time, before blacking out.

Hypothetically, if someone was to give me another chance to live, the first thing I'd do is get a girlfriend. One with huge but soft boobs, a short fluffy bob, and smelled like baked goods. Everything else didn't matter, just that.

I felt something touch my head. Something kinda heavy, but soft. 

I then smelled something. It wasn't a bad smell. It was actually really nice. In fact, it smelled like... fresh bread?

It was at this point I realized that I probably wasn't dead like I'd assumed. After that, all my sense came flooding back to me as strong as before. I'd realized my head was actually laying on something soft but firm, and the concrete felt more like gravel. I also wasn't cold anymore, instead just feeling a normal temperature. 

I slowly opened my eyes. In any other situation, I would've been on my feet in minutes, but for some reason, I felt at ease here. 

"Oh, you're awake.", A voice I didn't recognize said as I started to move more. When my eyes were fully open, I was met with the face that belonged to that voice hovering just mere inches above mine. The first thing I noticed, was her eyes. They were pure white. No irises, no color, anything. Just pure white. Although I'd seen many gruesome and strange sights in my line of work before, nothing could've prepared me for that.

Her face was heart shaped, and looked rather soft. She had a warm smile on her lips, and the strands of hair I could see were a pastel shade of purple. She was...

"Beautiful..." 

"I'm sorry?"

I'd realized what I'd said. I can deal with ripping out people's hearts, I can deal with brutally hanging someone with their own organs, and I can deal with killing a loving father or mother in cold blood, but romance was an entirely different area. I felt my face heat up as I quickly lifted my head from what it was laying on, accidentally headbutting her in the process. 

"Oh, I apologize, I didn't mean to hurt you..." I said, turning around to face her. Now that I had a much better view of more of her being, I'd realized two things. First, Based on her pose, the heavy things that I'd felt on top of my head...were her breasts. Which were actually really big. And second, I had been my resting my head in her lap. I felt my face grow even hotter. I tried my best to calm my and beating heart down by clearing my throat. Before I could say something else, the strange girl spoke up.

"I saw you lying on the ground when I got here, and when I got closer to you, you had a concussion. So I decided to use my powers to try and heal you. Since it doesn't take effect immediately, I figured I'd make you as comfortable as I could while it did.", she said, playing with a strand of her short, wavy hair. Her pale face looked normal if a bit flustered, but the tips of her ears were as red as strawberries. Her round faint pink lips pursed into a nuetral frown.

"Um...Thanks....I appreciate it.", I told her, scratching the back of my neck.

"Do you...feel better?", she asked, hesitantly. The girl looked up at me expectantly. Seems she wanted to be praised for a good job. How adorable.

I gave a small smile, before dramatically bowing. "Oh great Healer, I thank thee for saving me from certain doom. Without thee, I surely were to have fallen into darkness." She seemed slightly embarrassed, but still giggled at my theatrics. I grinned. Seemed like I'd made a good first impression already, despite the rough start.

"Clara."

"Hm?"

"I figured you didn't know my name.", the purple haired girl told me. "Since you called me 'healer'. It's Clara Maybelle."

Clara. A beautiful name.

"For an equally beautiful girl..." I said the rest of my thought outloud without thinking

"O-oh. Um, thank you very...much...No one's ever said that about me before. Usually, when people see my eyes, they tend to call me a freak or monster. Whether they meant any harm or not..." Clara said, rubbing her arm sheepishly.

"I think they're amazing. They suit you." I meant what I said. Her dress was striped with beautiful pastels, and her flat brown shoes added to her girliness. The eyes really complemented the whole outfit.

I stuck out my hand. "Lucy. Lucy Miquela." She stared at it for a moment,  and for a bit I thought I'd accidentally offended her somehow. But then she took with both of her small and soft palms, shaking it up and down gently. All while giving me the most breathtaking smile I'd ever seen on another woman.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Lucy."