they set him loose at dusk, & the forest swallows him up.
GUN secured across his thin back, PISTOL in his grip
& KNIVES sheathed over his body, he fights to control
the shudders that WRACK his thin frame as nimble
legs carry him through the shrubbery. he’s not far
enough from the mountain to break into a crouch, to
turn on his stealth so he keeps his paces measured
until he reaches the line and then he’s into mission
mode truly. this ——
T H I S is what they m a d e him for.
he doesn’t remember anything anymore; how he got here,
how he fell into their grasp, how they b e n t & broke him
into this shape, all that he has a mission to do set by his
handlers. he knows what his reflection looks like; he laid
eyes upon it once & had SCREAMED so harshly they had
punished him and BANNED him from ever seeing that boy
again. they wiped him after that, but sometimes he can see
images & flashes of a long haired boy, lanky & thin with sharp
features and he wonders if its him, if that’s who they TOOK
away from him. instead they make him wear a cloth kind
of muzzle & goggles, covering his appearance & send him
out into the dark.
he doesn’t look at mirrors—— he FIGHTS & TRAINS, he
becomes their M A C H I N E.
sometimes, he gets flashes of a boy — no, a man — he
doesn’t & can’t recognise. all he gets is a BLURRED outline
and a darkened interior, but it pulls at something in his
head & chest and he thinks, once, this man may have
been IMPORTANT to him. he isn’t anymore, only his mission
matters.
the asset is to ELIMINATE the delinquent sky leader,
with his raven curls & tanned freckled skin, honey
glazed eyes and — he S T O P S, it’s inappropriate to think
that way & he’ll get punished. the man means NOTHING
to him and he proves it, when he DIVES from his perch
to wrestle the leader to the floor, to pin him with his
weight & clamp his gloved, skeletal hands around his
THROAT. he feels nothing, he sees a target & he
S Q U E E Z E S