2008
Demons run when a good man goes to war.
The ringing of heavy fire and the choking of dust didn't faze her.
Agent 327 strode through the terror, stepping over the bodies that sprawled out before her. The bullets whizzed past her head but safety didn't seem to matter to her.
Shouldn't it though? Shouldn't her safety mean anything? To her? To her superiors? That thought had buried itself six feet under a long time ago, with a different person.
She shot to kill anyone who tried to stop her from moving towards the objective. Blood splatted across the walls, the vacant eyes of the dead fixated on something unseen.
The men she killed were around her age, no older than their mid-twenties, stubble lining their jaws. The woman's training was superb to theirs; they had stood no chance.
One of them did not die immediately from her lethal weapon.
She dragged him to a room separate from the now silent hall.
There, she tortured him until his death.
Was it worth it? She supposed so. She had gotten the information she needed to finish the objective after all.
The only thing that mattered anymore.
Night will fall and drown the sun
When a good man goes to war
She ignored the small voice in her head as she continued through the building.
It whispered, no, begged with tears that these men could have families.
Children.
Friends.
A life.
They might not even support the cause they were fighting for.
This isn't you! You aren't a killer!
She shut the voice down, taking it out just like the lives of these men.
Without hesitance.
Friendship dies and true love lies.
Agent 327, otherwise known as Leilah, was alone.
No back-up.
She was a skilled and trained assassin; there was no need for more than one soul to be shredded by the assigned, immoral objectives.
And yet, under the layers of training and tanned skin, a young woman cried, her tears unheard.
She hadn't always been like this.
She used to have a family, friends, a life. She used to fight without supporting the cause.
But, she was alone now.
No back-up, no family.
Just the blood of hundreds on her hands.
Night will fall and the dark will rise.
When a good man goes to war.
The vacant eyes of the enemy leader stared up at her as she ensured his demise before briskly striding to the roof. She stared down over the city, watching the flames swallow it whole. She only looked away as she gripped the rope ladder of a passing helicopter.
"Mission complete, sir."
The screams of children and women met her ears from below as the helicopter pressed on but her eyes didn't show any emotion.
She'd lost her emotion years ago.
She'd lost herself.
She'd lost her soul.
Demons run, but count the cost.
The battle's won
But the child is lost.