PROLOGUE
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I can hear his tortured screams as the flames lick his skin. The odor of burning flesh fills my nose--intoxicating me. I don’t feel any wrong; I have no regrets. As the house collapses into itself, I can already feel relief seeping into my body. I can feel the burden being lifted off of my shoulders; I am weightless.
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They told me that it was the right thing to do. They told me that it was the only way. But as I wash as my hands, I can’t help but feel as though it was anything but. I chuckle softly. I didn’t know that blood was so easy to wash off of your hands.
CHAPTER ONE
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THREE YEARS LATER
KAI
“ATTENTION …show more content…
800 people mill around their sectors, trying to strike up happy conversations and forcing fake smiles. Blaise and I are not alone in this fear and uncertainty. As I look around, I see all of the Children, varying in age, holding a sibling’s or a mother’s guiding hand.
Some have none to hold on to. Their parents may have been working earlier and are squirming their way through the crowds, desperate to find the child. Or the children have nobody at all. No parents, no older siblings, no family to act as an anchor in this sea of man.
Luckily, our situation is much better than theirs. Blaise has me, and I had my mother. I try to remember her face from the last moments with her in my world. Our last conversation was not a happy one; yet not a mad one. It had more of a scared and confused mood.
“What are you doing, Kai? Why have you brought me here? What’s in your hand?” she whispered.
“I’ll be right back. I promise. I love you.”
And I had run off into the night with a lighter in my …show more content…
My life is a cycle. Eat, sleep, kill, and repeat. And at the end of every day, all I’m left with is the feeling of emptiness. Silence.
As an assassin, trained and employed by the Beatus government, I am forced to kill. Or at least, tempted to. I look around at my luxurious, spacious, perfect apartment. The glass is spotless, and is washed at least four times a day by the staff. My pristine white couch has not a single stain. This is not a result of the eternally-working crew, but because of my perfectly guided hands. I study their flawless beauty. These have never failed me, not ever. I have never spilled a drink. I have never dropped anything. I have never stabbed or shot a suspect in the wrong area.
I think about my last victim silently. He was a young boy, probably in his late teen or early twenties, with a tall frame and a face with hard, handsome features. I could tell he was a genius, just by his calculating eyes. They were pale blue. The most pale eyes I have ever seen. He was also a fighter; I could feel it from the way he thrashed against my knife. What a shame. He would have been a very useful assassin. Like
*********************
I can hear his tortured screams as the flames lick his skin. The odor of burning flesh fills my nose--intoxicating me. I don’t feel any wrong; I have no regrets. As the house collapses into itself, I can already feel relief seeping into my body. I can feel the burden being lifted off of my shoulders; I am weightless.
-----------------------
They told me that it was the right thing to do. They told me that it was the only way. But as I wash as my hands, I can’t help but feel as though it was anything but. I chuckle softly. I didn’t know that blood was so easy to wash off of your hands.
CHAPTER ONE
**************************
THREE YEARS LATER
KAI
“ATTENTION …show more content…
800 people mill around their sectors, trying to strike up happy conversations and forcing fake smiles. Blaise and I are not alone in this fear and uncertainty. As I look around, I see all of the Children, varying in age, holding a sibling’s or a mother’s guiding hand.
Some have none to hold on to. Their parents may have been working earlier and are squirming their way through the crowds, desperate to find the child. Or the children have nobody at all. No parents, no older siblings, no family to act as an anchor in this sea of man.
Luckily, our situation is much better than theirs. Blaise has me, and I had my mother. I try to remember her face from the last moments with her in my world. Our last conversation was not a happy one; yet not a mad one. It had more of a scared and confused mood.
“What are you doing, Kai? Why have you brought me here? What’s in your hand?” she whispered.
“I’ll be right back. I promise. I love you.”
And I had run off into the night with a lighter in my …show more content…
My life is a cycle. Eat, sleep, kill, and repeat. And at the end of every day, all I’m left with is the feeling of emptiness. Silence.
As an assassin, trained and employed by the Beatus government, I am forced to kill. Or at least, tempted to. I look around at my luxurious, spacious, perfect apartment. The glass is spotless, and is washed at least four times a day by the staff. My pristine white couch has not a single stain. This is not a result of the eternally-working crew, but because of my perfectly guided hands. I study their flawless beauty. These have never failed me, not ever. I have never spilled a drink. I have never dropped anything. I have never stabbed or shot a suspect in the wrong area.
I think about my last victim silently. He was a young boy, probably in his late teen or early twenties, with a tall frame and a face with hard, handsome features. I could tell he was a genius, just by his calculating eyes. They were pale blue. The most pale eyes I have ever seen. He was also a fighter; I could feel it from the way he thrashed against my knife. What a shame. He would have been a very useful assassin. Like