So, I Just Killed the President

By: Randomnormality

Summary:

They called it an assassination. I call it, justified vengeance. They say I am a murderer. I like to think of it more along the lines of a survivor.

So, to those I have lied to and deceived to get where I am now, I write this letter. Within the letter are the contents of my life, from the moment I met them, to the beginnings of the lies and the eventual death of President Alexander Luthor.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Smallville. This is a slightly futuristic AU. My Original Character will not have a romance with any cannon, because I can't bring myself to break Chlollie up. Also, I do not own any lyrics or song titles (as the chapter titles are lyrics or song titles). The songs and lyrics, used in my story, are owned by their respective bands.

Author's Note:

I also would like to tell you that this is not going to be in complete letter format. Script that is in bold-italic is what he is reading out loud, or prompts for memories. The narrative part is giving more in depth view of things that happened, kind of a behind the scenes things. The narrative will be in Third Person, while the written, letter-style is in first person.

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-Prologue-

Given Up

'This is my letter to you, telling you it all, because as I sit within this eight-by-eight cell, I know deep within my soul that there is no point to continue." –Railey Haven

Nothing by a sadistic sense of self-satisfaction filled me as I stare into the pain-ridden blue eyes. The blood trickling down the left side of my face gains no more attention then the crimson substance staining my right hand. A smirk pulls at my lips as choked gasps leaves his lips as I pull the bloodstained blade from his sweet spot. I hold his gaze as he drops to his knees, his hands moving to clasp over the wound located in the spot where his shoulder and neck meet.

As his body falls to the carpeted floor, I watch as the light slowly flickers from his eyes. A flash of pain shoots through my left shoulder and my already wounded body drops to my knees. The men, dressed in suits, fill the room; two rushing to the corpse's side, as the cool metal of a gun is pressed against my temple. The words that leave the man's lips is unheard as I release the dagger, my gaze watching as the suited men fail to recall a pulse.

A smile, an actual smile, forms on my lips as I welcome the surrounding darkness. As my vision goes dark, and my body crumbles to the floor, I feel a sense of accomplishment and a sense of horror fill me as I realize everything is over.

"...trial held for Railey Haven on Wednesday, for the murder of President Luthor. Other than a simple plea of innocence, Haven has yet to say a word to anyone about her reasons behind her assassination of President Luthor…"

Oliver Queen turned his gaze from the television, the same news played on every channel, to look at his wife, Chloe. It didn't seem right. Railey Haven didn't kill, not unless it was a severe need. It was who she was.

As Chloe left to answer the doorbell, Oliver stared at his hands. Sure, they didn't know a lot about Rai, and she often did things that went against the code of the Justice League, but Luthor hasn't done anything in years. Did she really hold a grudge against the man that badly? Why now of all times?

"Ollie," Oliver's brown eyes snapped to his wife as she sat beside him, a thick tan envelope in her hands. "It has no return address, but it's for you."

Anything to get away from these thoughts, Oliver opened the envelope and pulled out the stack of papers. Immediately, his eyes scanned over the contents of the first page.

To the One and Only Queen,

If you are reading this, then there is an extremely strong chance I just killed the President of the United States. I know, that you are most likely mad, or disappointed, that I have done something this drastic.

I promise when I go to leave for the a private meeting in the Oval Office, set up by said President, I am not leaving with the intent to kill him. I don't trust him, but I need this closure.

This is my letter to you, telling you it all, because as I sit within this eight-by-eight cell, I know deep within my soul that there is no point to continue.

I could start from the beginning, tell you things you already know. How my biological parents died when I was just a couple months old. Or how my foster father killed my mother, covered it up by calling it suicide, just so he could sell me, a freak, to the highest bidder. I could tell you about the five years of torture, playing puppet to Luthor's strings. I could tell you about the fellow Meteor Infected I have helped Luthor bring into labs.

That's stuff you already know.

I'm going to tell you the things I have lied about. Things I have done to deceive you. I am going to tell you about the things you never knew about, while I was a member of your Justice League.

For the things you are about to find out, I am sorry.

Sincerely,

Railey 'Desha' Haven

Oliver glanced at his wife before taking off the cover page, to see a full set of completely typed up papers. Inhaling deeply, Oliver's lips parted as he began the story, his wife curled up against him.

'My story starts around the first year of being in the Justice League. I never thought I'd be able to put the past behind me, or be able to fix the mistakes I have done; to repent….'