Monday, January 14, 2013

Had a special job.

There was a group of eight runners that were on their way to the island and we had to take them out

They had stopped at a hotel in Nova Scotia.
Had Hart find out what room they were in

The room had a balcony. Hotel advertising gave me a good picture to work with. We appeared on a secluded street a little ways from the building before we made our way over there. From the street I could see that there was someone out on the balcony. Figured he was standing guard. We ducked into a nearby alley, pulled on our masks- or bandana in Hart’s case, then teleported up there. Surprised the guy. He had a shotgun, but my knife found him before he could raise it.

Slipped into the room. Another guy with a shotgun was trained on the room door, facing away from the window. Quietly sneaked up behind him and cut his throat.

Fell crept over to where the other runners were sleeping. There were two beds and a cot. Three slept in one bed, two in the other and one in the cot. Fell swung her axe and opened the head of the one in the cot. At the same time, Hart had moved over to the bed with two people in it and, using a knife that he had borrowed from me, he brought it down on one of the runners. While it is to his credit that he killed without hesitation, his strike allowed the victim to cry out before dying. This woke the others up. While Hart was pulling the knife free from his victim, the other occupant of the bed rolled out of it, reached under the bed and pulled out a crowbar. He attacked Hart, who backed up to avoid it

As soon as she had killed the one in the cot, Fell ran to the side of the bed with three in it as another was drawing a handgun from under his pillow. Her axe sank into his arm then was pulled free and buried in his head. The remaining two occupants had leapt from the bed; one wielding a knife and trying to defend the other. Her efforts were in vain against me as I dodged her swings and drove my knife between her ribs

The runner with the crowbar ran for it. Hart followed. Fell followed him while I was still occupied with killing the woman.

I looked up from my work, knowing that Ritter was in the room. The boy that the woman was trying to protect had huddled against the wall, his face twisted into a silent scream. Made sure that he would remain silent.

Only realized then that Fell, Hart and the runner were gone  
I ran out of the room. There was a bit of blood on thefloor that told me their direction which I followed. Led to a stairwell.

When I got there I saw the bloody corpse of the runner. Looking over the rail I saw Hart as he was just reaching Fell. She had been knocked over the rail and had landed on the steps below. I ran down to join them.

Up until that point, my mind had been drowned with murder, with Ritter’s will, His song. But in that moment I broke free from his hold, from my despair. I felt like I had been submerged in water and was only now able to break the surface and take a breath. And I fought for more.         

His song carried the suggestion that if she died, he would make a puppet out of her body, so that she would continue on even in death. For the first time ever, I was able to push the song almost completely out of my mind; driven by a desire to saveher because she deserved so much better, because I care for her and because I could not save my Sunshine and I could not bear that sort of loss, that sort of failure to happen again and for her to be made a puppet on top of that as a reminder.

I brought us all back to the Island. Hart said he knew of a doctor that didn’t ask too many questions, so we paid him a visit. The next few hours were a blur I remember hearing the words “internal bleeding” and “broken arm and ribs”

His song came crashing back in waves but I’vemanaged to keep coming back to the surface, to stay afloat.

We’re home now

I’m typing this as I lay beside her in bed. I intended to stay in a chair by her side for fear of hurting her, but this is where she said she wanted me to be.

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