Life, is an odd thing. To live, to have a heart beating in your chest, what was the meaning behind it? Why is it so treasured? When thousands of so-called precious lives are wasted each day, when merely being alive brings so much pain and suffering. What if some lives deserved to be taken?

And that was what assassins were for, they were like tools; expensive, complex and dangerous tools, but served their purpose well if handled properly. But then again, tools would break apart. It was just a matter of time, after all, nothing lasts forever. Each and every thing in this world would disappear someday.

A single petal landed on her palm, she placed her thumb over it. Moving her finger up and down, she felt its silkiness, and her nerves settling down. A killer's instinct, one might call it. There she was, just a few seconds after the slaughter, standing amidst the freshly cut bodies. Shredded skin and puddles of blood, petals scattered all over the heaps of raw flesh, red on red.

Oh, how it soothed her, it silenced the accursed whispering voices that only she had the misfortune of hearing, it quenched her thirst for blood, and it allowed her to release all that pressure in her. Killing was a sport, an enjoyable one, one that spared her from the torment that she had to endure every single day. She felt as if she was a part with the wind that flew past, as her sword pierced and cut through soft skin and flesh in fluid movements. She didn't feel anything, just an urge for more, and she would give in to those bloody desires, until she could cut no more.

The scene she created after that was always one to admire. A glorious portrayal of macabre and beauty at the same time, that brilliant red blood stood out the most, like a shining jewel. It was something born from the magnificent painting of a great artist.

She brought up her katana, watching the silver of the metal-which clashed with deep crimson- sparkle in the moonlight. She released the stray petal and let it slowly drift down. With her other hand, she ran a finger on the thin blade; it too, became stained in red. She licked her fingers, the metallic tang in her mouth.

Let the blood spill…

Let them scream…

Let the lives fly away…

She fell to the ground, her legs folded and spread apart. She looked straight up at the inky-dark sky and the full moon shining bright. Her lips stretched into a crazed smile, and she let out an earsplitting, howling laugh, as she locked her gaze on the swollen moon, remembering those days...

Please review, even if it's short, it'll get longer. Now, if you're confused, then wait til I update.

Disclaimer: The only person who owns HxH is Yoshihiro Togashi, I only own my OC.