Creative Writing,  My Writing

Blow Us All Away

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And then there were 6. 

‘To take someone’s life that is something you can’t shake’

It’s something that has always been said to me. The first one is always the hardest. But then it becomes scarily like second nature.

I’ve avoided it so far. Someone else has always been there to cover for me and take care of the messy stuff for me. In a weird way I have been lucky like that. But I’m waiting for my luck to run out.

Because it’s inevitable. It’s been 4 years since my training ended. I shot a dummy back then,  looked for the biggest threat in a sea full of people. Very Men In Black. And it also didn’t really affect me all that much because it was rubber and paper.  And a blank. It’s not the same.

I’ve seen multiple people come back from missions that included their first end shot a completely different person. They come back a bit broken. I’ve heard people say that the way in which you do makes all the difference as well. The general consensus is that if you can do if from afar then do it that way. Try and avoid anything that might mean that you have to watch the light leave their eyes. Or see the blood leaving their body.

Long distance shooting is basically what they say is the best thing.

The problem with that sentiment is that the opportunity to shoot someone from a distance doesn’t present itself all that often. Especially if you’re on a solo mission. That’s all hand to hand combat, and if you get the chance you take the shot. Blood on your hands be damned.

I have so far avoided solo missions.

Until now.

My luck has run out.

I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, because I did. There were signs, the biggest one being that of those that became fully fledged agents at the same time as me have already had their solos and I haven’t. Another one being that I have history with the guy that needs someone to be sent for.Which in theory should mean that I am kept as far away from it as possible, but that’s not how things work in this business. Because even though it’s kind of my worst nightmare to finally get my solo and have it be such an important one, I know that I would be 10x more annoyed if I found out that someone else got it.

I’m currently in preparation for the dispatch. Which basically means I have a long line of people coming into my room wishing me luck and rather morbidly saying goodbye. That’s never happened before. People have never swanned into my room and said that they had had fun knowing me and that I was always a right laugh or other very complimentary things. They’ve never left my room with a tight hug and a look of worry in their eyes before.

Then there’s Rome. Who has pretty much covered my ass from day 1 and is the reason that I am 1) still alive and 2) am still kill less. And has spent the entire time that I’ve been in prep preparing me for the fact that I am probably not getting out of this without shedding some blood. Rome’s proficient at this, the killing thing, has built up a tolerance to it. An alarming tolerance if I’m honest, but one that I am grateful for nonetheless. Rome has done nothing but give me advice:

– avoid anything that involves open wounds and bleeding out because it involves being too close and there’s a higher chance I’ll mess it up snd that could make the psychological affects greater.

– avoid choking a person to death on their own blood, it’s a distinctly horrible experience

– my best bet is a bullet. I’m a good shot. I can get the bullet in and then not have to worry about it. If the shot is good enough it should be relatively painless as deaths go. I know all the pressure points for that, can make it clean and quick. As long as I have the time to get those shots in then apparently I should be fine. Better then fine. It should be relatively easily, as having to kill another person goes.

I would still rather not have to do it, but sometimes these things are unavoidable.

I just have to remember my training.

And ask Rome for the name of her post-mission therapist.

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