#sinstainedsoul

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

@sin-stained-soul

The girl had never been this pale before. If she was to kill someone else, she would use a gun, but as of late, she was not a good shot anymore. Moreover, her gun seeemed to scare her.

Her hands were trembling as she was holding a knife, staring at it, as if she was rethinking things, but in fact, she had already made her decision. She was a monster. Just a monster, killing people so she could survive. But while those people she killed had their reasons to live, there was no point for her to stay alive. The better she realised that, the worse she became as an assassin, because she was no longer able to just follow the order. And it meant one thing: for her owners, she was like a broken tool.

They would dispose of her sooner or later, but she was quite certain they would make sure her death was long and painful. There was only one way to avoid that, and no matter how much it terrified her, she knew that. 

That was why she had the knife in her hands.

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her grip on the handle and reached her left arm out. When the knife pierced her skin, it hurt, and she let out a small hiss, but her hands stopped trembling. The blade slowly made their way down her arm. She did not look, but could feel the warmth of blood flooding her skin. It hurt when her left hand grabbed the knife and dragged the blade down her right arm.

She was not sure how long it took. Lying there, in the grass, she felt as if the time stopped. Slowly, she began feeling light-headed and nauseous. Her breath got faster and shallower as she desperately tried to catch a breath to stop feeling this dizzy. It was so cold, so cold...

Every beat of her heart echoed through her aching head, ticking her life away. No longer was she able to keep her eyes open, her mouth felt dry. She was scared, but there was no turning back anymore.

And then, she fell asleep. Her body went limp, surrounded by blood-stained grass. Just one more heartbeat. One more desperate breath...

...and it was over.

Anghel didn’t know what he was expecting when he knocked on the strange looking shop. He could sense something dark and gloomy radiating from inside, something that warned him not to go any further. 

Normally he would have listened to his instincts and taken cover but he had been investigating for so long that he simply couldn’t leave without any answers. 

Oh, great. Another weirdo. Len seemed to attract those far too frequently. Maybe it was just his past-- Len was used to the idea of people following him for some reason or another, never anything good. When Len was younger, he attracted far more attention (not that he didn’t still cause his share of trouble), and word got out about what he was a little more often than he liked. Good thing most of the towns that he’d gotten chased out of either didn’t exist anymore or probably didn’t know he’d ever been chased out at all. Nowadays, most of the people he yelled at for “following him” were just minding their own business, and happened to be walking in the same direction as him.

On the off-chance he was right that someone was following him, Len’s pursuers usually just wanted to mug him or mistook him for someone famous. It was rarely anything exciting. Len faintly recalled the old nutjob he worked for warning him about suspicious individuals who seemed a tad bit interested in him, but Len couldn’t remember the reason to worry about that. He’d always been good at scaring off humans, after all. All he had to do was give the slightest hint of what he really was, maybe show off his real form a bit, and they’d scram immediately. This guy had yet to give Len a reason to try and scare him off like that.