Born to Kill
A/N Before you read this I just wanted to say I was feeling very sad/angry/gloomy when I wrote this. Hope that explains the dark feeling. Enjoy. And please leave a review telling me if it was too dark, there for I won't write anymore like this. Thanks and enjoy.
Disclaimer: Bella Swan belongs to Stephanie Meyer.
Note: Has nothing to do with vampires
Bella's POV
I was born to kill.
That was the only thing I understood about myself so far.
Apparently the only thing I could do was kill, and keep killing.
That was what I believed and how could I not believe that. If every one else around me were absolutely sure that was the only thing I could do.
To kill.
After eighteen long years I didn't question it anymore.
I would a get a phone call from my boss who would give me the directions to my next victim.
I would complete the task wearing a blank expression and without the slightest hesitation. I would feel no remorse, no regrets, and no guilt.
That's all there was to it, I would always tell myself.
Listen, obey, and kill.
I was trained to show no mercy. To never show any signs of weakness, not that I was allowed to have any.
Deep inside my scarred soul I knew that there was a better life, a way out, but I wasn't allowed to think about that.
I would keep killing.
No one could stop me.
I had a purpose, though my reason seemed lost now. But I would keep killing until I could remember who I used to be.
No one could change me, not even myself. No one could make me see the light. And no one could make me believe there was a reason to fight for a better world.
Because there wasn't a reason.
Darkness.
The darkness, it was all around.
You couldn't escape it.
The planet I lived in seemed like black hole of hopelessness and despair.
There was no hope for myself, or for my new planet. I would end up killing half the population anyway.
I, like so many before me thought that by coming to this planet I would escape evil.
Instead I walk outside every day and the cruel reminder that evil has never been stronger is still there; the sticky, warm blood belonging to my victims.
I never would have imagined I would have been forced to become a part of the force that was going to rid the planet of the human race.
I would always wonder if after I was done killing everyone my boss would kill me too.
Probably.
Maybe I could fight back.
Maybe, just maybe, my wings would help me rise instead of hanging uselessly besides me.
Yes, maybe I could fight back.
After all, according to my boss, I was born to kill…
A/N::: Thanks for reading:) I know it was short and rushed but if you have any questions leave a review or send me a message:)