Tyrant's Mansion

BANG

The building shakes from the weight offloaded to its floor by a bullet. This death was not caused by me, but it makes my job easier nonetheless.

Polished wood floors are riddled with dust and shattered glass. The hallway I walk across overlooks a beautiful garden, but its flowers are forced to witness death one wall away. Walls of stained wood normally boast expensive paintings and rare treasures, but explosions have rendered this space into a corridor of lost value.

"C, you are approaching the target. Three doors down on the right."

A familiar voice tells me everything I need to hear. My moonlit walk continues without any interference, or at least none living.

One room passes by along my stroll. Inside is the chamber of a king, one wealthy from the modern age. Tens of bodies lie dead with metal firmly placed into their frames, one of which is dressed to fit this room perfectly.

"This is C. I've confirmed that the target is deceased."

"That was only one. There is another."

"Another?"

From the briefing, I had only considered this country's dictator to be the only one worth concerning myself with. However, the woman in my ear would never make a mistake in my instructions.

"Who is the remaining target?"

"His son."

Part of me wants to be surprised that a boy barely a teenager managed to survive a devastating attack from a rival faction. The other part of me doesn't care.

"Roger that."

The earpiece goes silent and I continue through a field of bodies belonging to two different sides. At this point, basically the entire mansion has fallen silent. The two forces effectively wiped each other out and I'm just here to deal with the remnants. My job was simple and easy.

I leap over a gap in the wooden floor and come within view of the end. Only one room remains unsearched, but the bodies lined at the door seemed to have gotten here ahead of me.

"Traps?"

"None."

"Routes for target to escape?"

"Just a three metre drop into the floor below."

Barely worth noting, but technically still a means of exit. Whoever this kid is, he managed to survive by holing up in his room. The dead men in front of me are either his own doing or the workings of defences no longer viable. Regardless, I expect to have no trouble dealing with him.

I peek inside the final door and quickly pull back before a pair of bullets fire past one after the other.

"STAY BACK!"

It's a voice that just began growing. Even without the voice crack, the fear behind that scream is visible to the eye.

"DON"T COME ANY CLOSER!"

I expect another bullet to fly through the doorframe, but it never comes. All I receive is a frantic clicking and the sinking despair of a child.

"N-No…"

With no remaining threats, I turn into a frame sitting lonely without a door.

"S-Stay away!"

It's a large space, but explosives have rendered much of it unwalkable. If there aren't scraps of furniture strewn about, there are holes that send you plummeting into the floor below. At the bottom, you can already see some that fell victim.

At the end of the room behind a splintered dresser is my target. His long blonde hair runs over his torn suit, the tailor made garments covered in blood and debris. Blood seeps out from a wound in his head as he points an empty gun in my direction.

"W-Why is this happening…"

Tears stream down his pained face. His hands are trembling, but the weapon is still readily aimed for my chest. He knows that his life is over. Dozens of enemies were killed in his fight for survival, shot with his own aim. He would have succeeded in living another day were it not for my superiors being methodical. It's all over, yet he still stares me down with those burning blue eyes.

I raise my gun and aim it directly at his forehead. With the movement of one finger, my mission will be complete.

"I-I don't want to die!"

Those immature hands go white from gripping the gun handle. Click after click rings out, the boy being no closer to defeating his final foe. You can see his eyes trailing around the room looking for some way out, even considering the drop he likely wouldn't survive. Any other human would have granted him mercy at this sight.

"Sorry kid."

I'm not one of those humans. My mission was to put a bullet in his head, so that is what I will do. Whether I'm dealing with a grown adult or a child, my job does not change. My superiors considered this kid to be a threat, so I will handle him like I do any other.

"Grrr!"

The revving of an engine, a burst of determination.

He could very easily beg for his life in search of some kind of pity, but he does not. The boy is intent on finding a way out even in this situation. Even if he has to charge head first into an oncoming bullet, his will to live searches for any kind of hope. The flame in his eyes will continue to rage until his heart comes to a stop.

It was only for a second, but I hesitated.

"DIEEEE!"

His small body launches itself at me. There is no weapon in his hands, but the burning passion he exudes alone triggers my instincts.

BANG

Hope was short-lived. One finger washed away the young boy's future and quelled the flames of his present. That indomitable will was given only a few seconds to show its potential, potential that has no further vision.

"Tch…"

I hold the trembling hand holding my weapon.

"It was just a damn kid…"

A kid he may have been, but that kid forced me to hesitate. Something inside of me responded to him, something that I should have passed long ago. Somewhere inside that kid, I saw a mirror.

After all of these years, I had grown to be virtually unstoppable. There is never an enemy that I fear, never a situation that I feel to be impossible. With my training and preparation, I need only follow through and I can at least guarantee my life. However, this kid was the first to send a chill down my spine.

That absolute desire to survive. Once upon a time, I fought for my life and danced with fate the entire way. While almost none of my fellow soldiers survived, I always walked away from battle one thread away from my rope snapping. This kid was on the brink of doing the same. In a few years time, he very well may have become my equal.