𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪───※ ·✯· ※───𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

TRIGGER WARNING: Gory descriptions.

Karma is the best revenge one cannot possibly escape from. You can run, but you can't hide. The universe has already paved out the road for those who commit wrongdoings. And karma catches up to them sooner or later. One way or another, it will always find you.

And sometimes, karma comes in the form of an assassin who lives to ensure that the right punishment is imposed on those who deserve it.

That's why tonight, I'll be carrying out another rightful execution.

I stay in the shadows as I press my back against the surface of the wall. The contact somewhat cools down the rushing adrenaline surging through the blood in my veins. Lightning cracks across the night sky, followed by ominous thunder two seconds later. It rumbles through the darkness and reverberates off the buildings in the narrow alleyway. A mouse skitters near my feet when a few raindrops begin to fall. I deeply inhale the musty, humid air as it tickles my senses in a pleasant way.

Doing my work during a storm is an added bonus, because the dark and ominous ambience provides the perfect mood for what I've been trained to do: kill.

My attention is focused on the tall, red steel door which shows signs of rusting. I'm expecting my target to exit the building using this passageway, as my previous observations over the past five days have shown me. However, I can't shake off the feeling of impending doom weighing down on my mind.

"Looking for me?" a deep, gruff voice speaks from my right. I whirl my head around. My target stands under the only working street lamp which dimly illuminates his black coat, gray sweatpants, and his hand holding a gun.

Maximus Dillon: a scientist working for Scadobia. All I know that his wife hired me to “take care of him”, because he's a manipulative, abusive piece of shit.

His thin lips curl up in a sinister grin as he points the weapon at me and pulls the trigger. I keep calm, my instincts and years of training immediately take over. I manage to dodge the bullet. It whizzes past my ear. I can't tell if it grazed me or not as I lunge towards the man. He shoots once again, the bullet hitting the ground three inches from my right foot.

Why the fuck would this idiot shoot at the ground?

I kick the gun from his hand and send it flying against the wall. Without hesitation, he punches me in the face.

That's gonna leave a bruise, I think bitterly. I spit out the blood from my mouth, swallowing the iron taste before landing a punch of my own. My contact with his skin emits the all-too-familiar crunching sound when he grabs my wrist and swiftly flings me on the ground. I land with a thud on my back. Air whooshes out of me for a second as I gasp at the impact. Rain begins to pour in torrents. Taking out my knife from my cargo pants pocket, I jump back up. Before I can take any other action, he tackles me like a quarterback. Once again, I'm out of breath as we both fall down to the ground. My knife flies out of my hand and clatters several feet away.

Keeping calm and breathing through the light pain, I knee the man in the groin. He responds with a howl of pain, his hand flying down. Those few seconds while he clutches his damaged area allow me to struggle free from under his crushing weight and crawl towards the knife. Just when my finger brushes against the hilt, his hand roughly grabs my ankle. His nails dig through the tough fabric of my pants. He yanks me backwards, the raw skin on my palms dragging along the wet concrete. Flipping me over, he places himself on top of me. A devilish grin spreads over his face. The heavy rain drenches my clothes to the skin as thunder faintly rumbles over the loud, pattering sound. The cold water refreshes my burning skin while I watch his eyes fill with murderous intent.

Not failing or slipping up once for the last six years, which is half of the time I've been working with my master since I was sixteen, has turned me a little too cocky. My mentor warned me that Maximus is capable of anything. And I chose not to heed her.

"You fuck," I snarl. Quickly wrapping my legs around his waist, I lock them together before I thrust my two fingers into his eye. I curl them around his eyeball and snatch it out with the speed of a snake. Hot blood splatters on my face before the cold rain washes it away. The slimy thing squirms a little in my head as he screams in agony. His hand flies up to his empty, bleeding socket. I release my hold on his body, allowing him to stand up and stumble backwards. The torrential rain does a great job in drowning out his dying animal sounds. Another reason why I love working in the storm.

Scrambling back on my feet, I grab my knife. After I stash the stiff eyeball into my pocket - as per his wife's strange request- I sweep-kick him off his feet. He lands face-first, the puddles turning a pastel red. Rolling over on his back, he stares at me with his good right eye. It's glaring at me with rage while his ugly, bleeding face grimaces in pain. The rain washes some of the blood away as I lower myself and place both my legs on either side of his body. I tightly lock my thighs against his legs, preventing him from moving his lower body. When he weakly attempts to swat the knife from my hands, I slice it through his hand, cleanly severing it from his wrist. It splashes a few feet away, the fingers still twitching.

"You fucking bitch!" he screams. Blood bursts from his gaping wound. By this point, he's too weak to do anything with his good hand as his amputated arm flails to the flooded ground. The dark red blood further stains the waters

"How does it feel, Max? To be weak and under the mercy of someone else, huh?" I grin maliciously, pressing my thumb into his gaping eye socket. His other hand weakly thrashes against my arm, but his attempts to hurt me are futile as my thumb feels the familiar squishiness of the freshly-plucked hole.

"You'll go to hell," he manages to growl out.

I tilt my head at him in amusement. "Perhaps. But you most certainly will. You do know what happens to men who hurt women, right?"

He bares his teeth in a sinister grin. "She deserved it. A woman is designed to obey her husband, you whore."

I chuckle. "Well, tell Satan that Karma sent you."

Without wasting another second, I slice his throat in one quick and professional move. His esophagus is cut in half and bulges at me while blood pours out of the gaping meat. His right eye widens in shock at me as he takes wheezing gasps, the blood gurgling in his throat before he stops. His body continues to convulse for a good few seconds before it settles down and ceases to function forever.

I get off him and wash his filthy blood from the blade of my knife in one of the clean puddles before folding it into my pocket. I look at his dead body, observing in satisfaction as his blood flows down the street, being carried away by the flooding water. Rain continues to pour while the ominous sound of thunder roars through the storm. My clothes are soaked thoroughly, clinging to my wet skin, but I'm not cold. Heat surges through me at the satisfying knowledge that another piece of shit will no longer bother women.

And most importantly, his daughter won't have to go through the same experience as I did when my mother died because I was too little to save her.

The sense of accomplishment continues to tingle through my veins which are still bursting with adrenaline.

All of a sudden, an uncomfortable tingle appears on the back of my neck, as if someone is watching me. I turn around and spot a figure standing roughly fifty feet away. Even through the thickness of the raging storm, I can tell that they're a girl based on her feminine features. She must have seen that I noticed her, because she spins around and starts running. I sigh in frustration. Since the last incident, I promised myself that I wouldn't kill another innocent person just because they managed to witness my work. I wish someone would invent one of those mind-wiping devices like in the fucking movies.

I chase after her, my black combat boots splashing water all over me as I run through the river of gathered rainwater. Lightning bolts crack through the ominous clouds, sending a pleasant tingle through me. I rush through the pouring rain, closing in on the girl. I'm only thirty feet away from her when she suddenly stops and turns around. She slowly backs away. I halt about fifteen feet away when I notice that we're at a dead end.

She is trapped like a mouse in a cage.

From fifteen feet away, I can see her more clearly now. She's small, possibly no taller than five feet and three inches. She also has the same build as those K-Pop stars; a fucking twig that I can break in half with my bare hands.

Without warning, she throws something at me. I barely flinch as it hits me square in the face. I blink away my surprise before I bend down to pick up the object which she had the nerve to throw at me. I hold it in my hand and look down at it, my stunned brain not believing what the fuck did she just fling at me. And with good aim too.

"Did you... just throw a fucking mango at me?" I demand in disbelief, holding up the slightly bruised fruit.

"I..." she squeaks out. Furrowing my eyebrows, I squeeze the mango and feel the squishy flesh between my fingers before I throw it to the side. It splatters against the wall as I walk towards her. With another squeak of fright, she attempts to run around me. Unfortunately for her, I grab her arm and fling her into the wall. I had planned for her head to slam against the hard surface, BUT instead, her shoulder makes the impact.

With a scowl, I grab a handful of her hair and throw her down on the ground, the puddle of water splashing in all directions. As I tower over her, she kicks me in the shin. It's so weak, it's almost like a newborn goat trying to headbutt me. Lowering myself on top of her squirming body, I grab her flailing arms with both my hands. I switch my hold so I can hold her skinny wrists with one hand. I slam them into the concrete ground behind her head while preparing to slice her throat. But when I place the blade against her skin, I glance at her face and it's as if my body becomes paralyzed.

Her eyes hold the look of pure warmth, shining into my frozen soul like a beam of sunshine onto an iceberg. Her face is filled with the brightness of the sun as she looks at me with the adorability of a tiny kitten. She looks no older than twenty-two. I am suddenly aware that the rain has ceased into a light drizzle. My hand refuses to budge, despite my attempts.

What is going on with me? Just a few months ago, I murdered a five year old girl because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I did it without a moment of hesitation, because that's what I was trained to do: kill any witnesses no matter who they are.

But there's something about this girl. The warmth which radiates from her envelopes my mind in a soothing way. That pleasant and fuzzy feeling creeps into my heart, one which I haven't felt since... forever.

The next words which come out of my mouth are unexpected, not just to me but to her as well.

"If you tell anyone what you just saw, I swear I'll hunt you down and kill you and everyone you love. Got it?"

"Yes," she whispers softly, the sound barely reaching my ears.

"I didn't fucking hear you," I scowl, slamming her wrists against the wet ground.

"Yes ma'am," she squeaks.

I search her face for the smallest sign of a lie, but all my eyes meet is pure warmth. Even though her panic-stricken eyes dart frantically all over me, they still hold the look of happiness and softness behind them.

I stand and lift her off the ground by her wrists. Releasing my hold on her, I push her away, causing her to stumble.

"Run. And remember my warning," I say, folding my knife into my pocket.

She obeys me without hesitation, but then stops about forty feet away. She turns her head to look at me. Her lips curl up in a soft smile as she mouths the words 'thank you' before disappearing into the dark. That smile warms my heat-starved heart as I stand there and gaze off into her direction before I realize what just happened.

What the fuck did I just do? Why the hell did I let her go? Why the fuck did I trust her to not squeak out a word? Why would she smile at me when I almost murdered her? How did she disarm me with one look?  With those innocent eyes and-

A sharp sting pricks the side of my neck. I lift my hand to pluck it off and hold it between my fingers. It's a dart. This time, panic overtakes my mind in a frenzy. My vision begins to fade away as I try to look in the direction from which it had come from. But as soon as I glance up, I collapse on my knees. My body becomes weaker when I fall to my side in a cold puddle.

Heaviness weighs down on my mind like an anchor. Dryness creeps up in my mouth despite the humid air. I attempt to roll over on my back, but I can't move a muscle. My body is paralyzed.

Light footsteps approach as I struggle to keep my mind awake. But darkness quickly wins the battle, conquering my mind with its harsh grasp.

Word count - 2472