Trigger (2)

I opened my eyes in a furious impulse. I was going to explode, and destroy everything. Kill every piece of trash in this pitiful world, just to feel better because I couldn't do anything against injustice. What I had seen was just a memory, hallucination.

I inspected the surroundings. Nothing had changed in the prince's bedroom. His chest rose peacefully, my heart pounded. I couldn't pick up the gun at my feet, my body stiffened at the thought: I couldn't let my employers decide his fate like they had decided Big Brother's future. No matter their offerings. No matter what my partner thought.

The only ones responsible were the corrupt adults, not this child.

Why was there all this red paint on the floor? Why was there this man in black standing on it? Why was Big Brother crying? I had never seen him cry before. Had he done something wrong?

React. Don't just stand there. Help him.

And… fuck. I'll do what I want after all. What did I have to fear? I was already swimming in blood, drowning in it! I was already dead. Yes, I was death, and tonight, I wanted to be hope.

If I spare him, he'll be eternally grateful to me.

The moment I imagined what life with Big Brother would be like, the desire to meet him consumed me from the inside. Someone close to share my hard times, fill the constant void within me… I had dreamed of it for so long, before realizing that no one would ever come to my rescue.

It was actually up to me to create my own savior, piece by piece. The prince was not an enemy, nor my victim, but the raw material for my next sculpture.

Could he embody my soulmate? The only way to know was to experience it.

~~~~

My daily life was nothing but boredom, lack of interest, or indifference. Killing distracted my empty mind. I didn't get attached, even if I sincerely tried… Seeing my loved ones wither away didn't sadden me. With my mentor, it was a bit different: I owed her a debt that I would have to repay for the rest of my life. So, she earned my respect.

I could have done something else to occupy myself, but Justine adopted me in and trained me for the job. I never thought of looking further because I enjoyed playing the reaper. Solitude fulfilled me, and fear entertained me. Feelings were something I had been deprived of, who knows why… Justine, on the other hand, didn't judge me because she knew the bitter taste of injustice.

In short, I wasn't much different from a empty shell. So when I realized that there were still echoes of humanity somewhere in me… You would agree that refusing this chance, however small it was, was absurd.

How to seize the crown jewel by outsmarting all the other thieves…?

A crazy idea sprouted in my head. We had carte blanche with the sole condition of ‘disappearing’ the prince. No one explicitly asked for his death in the contract. As long as we met our clients' objective – freeing the throne sit – everyone would benefit.

It seemed absurd, but I didn't need to kill my target to accomplish the mission… That was the trick! I would put the prince between life and death. An achievement that no one else would ever dare to attempt.

Genius.

Simulate his death. Send false evidence in the report.

The clients could fall into the trap, but not the leader. She worked with me, and knowing her, she would never agree to let me do it. We had invested too much resources to ruin everything on a impulse…

Starting to pace, I swore under my breath. What a rotten world! I didn't have time to distract myself anymore. Whatever happens, I'll know how to improvise. And as for Justine, I'll settle everything at hideout. I just had to present her with the facts and only then negotiate calmly.

Determined, I reconstructed plan A in my mind. Nothing had changed. I just had to follow it, with a extra prince. Before I even realized it, my fingertips were touching a metallic dart sticking out of my leg holster. It was just waiting to pierce the prince's skin and release its tranquilizer.

When we don't execute off targets on the spot, we put them to sleep to transport them back to our hideout. I still had time, so carrying him unconscious on my back wouldn't be a problem.

Armed with the worst intentions, I approached the bed. But you know what? At the last moment, my foot caught in a fold of the carpet. You know, the one with the swan! It's unbelievable, isn't it? The whole mission failed because of a ridiculous stumble.

I ended up in bed sheets, but I could have said (forgive my ill-timed humour) that I mostly ended up ‘in deep shit’.