+Newfound Glory+
Disclaimer: Things I own: my wallet, imagination, computer, and all the necessities in life. Things I don't own: Trigun and other anime, my mom's car, and you get the picture.
Summary: Target, blood, death, and live it all over again. No other emotion, no regrets. A hired assassin for an underground association, Meryl lives this everyday. But, when a stranger suddenly shows up, she regains a newfound emotion lost within her. But will events of the past jeopardize everything she has gained?
+Newfound Glory+
Chapter 2: No Regrets
"But I have no regrets. None, whatsoever. I am a living-breathing killer, with no emotions, no pain, and no life."
I arrived home within minutes. The politician's office was just a walking distance from my house. Sleep was about to take over my body, but first, I had to get rid of the evidence.
Blood
The fluid was all over my new black dress. Memories of the night playback in my mind as I remove my dress and clean myself up. I still reeked of her blood, and it was killing me. After 3 attempts with the washing machine, I decided to try and hand wash the stains out. And there I stayed, for hours sittin on a stool, my fingers pruning and the smell of blood intoxicating my nose. With no avail, the sticky fluid hadn't all come out. This left me with only one last option.
Burn it.
I reluctantly threw the dress into the burning pits of the fireplace. As I watched the dress being devoured by flames, I couldn't help but remember once again the memories of tonight. You must be wondering why, why am I doing this? Why do I kill people? Is it for my own self-pleasure? Is it because I have a problem? No, that's not it.
'We're doing this to benefit mankind. Only one person has to die each day to save our civilization.'
Legato Bluesummers, my leader, my cousin, my only source of family, had told me that after my first kill. He found me off the streets, huddling in the cold with nothing but the clothes on my back and abused by both my father and mother. That's when he introduced me to the Org.
I chuckle at the thought of it. You must be wondering, what exactly is the Org? We are a group *what I really mean is over 1000* of people who believe that politicians shouldn't be the ones making decisions for human lives, for they too are mortal. We've all come from different walks of life, witnessing the problems that the government has caused with their greed and abuse of power. That's when Legato decided to create the Org, to have citizens of the world decide who should die, and who should stay in power. Don't get it? We're hired assassins targeting those politicians that the world has deemed immoral or disgusting. That's what it is, and that's who we are: assassins. Lightning strikes as I think of that last thought. We are assassins, no matter how Legato puts it, that's just who we are. For 3 years, this has been my occupation. At most times, I found no reason to live. Here I am, living and breathing, while some person is dead and all life is lost forever. But I have no regrets. None, whatsoever. I am a living-breathing killer, with no emotions, no pain, and no life.
Thunder rumbles as the fire dances in the fireplace. I suddenly remember the last thing I had taken from the woman, besides her life. The ring, the little token of appreciation from that woman.Gently, I remove the ring from my finger to get a better look at it. We in the Org are also trained to tell the value of jewelry, even though it rendered useless in the beginning. Using that training, I examined it in awe. A beautiful golden ring, worth $500,000. I felt somethin inscribed inside the ring, and found that it was a little saying from the bible.
Love is patient...Love is kind...
It was engraved into this ring and I soon realized that that woman, the one whom I had killed tonight. . . she had everything going for her. I soon felt a jolt in my heart. Is it...pain? I killed this woman, to benefit mankind? Tears rolled down my cheeks when I finally took a reality check: I was no better than these politicians that I killed daily. I'm a killer, a menace to society. And I needed to repent...
~One Week Later~
The enormous wooden doors of the church stood into view. I still could not believe that this was happening. I haven't visited this place since I started my killing spree nearly 3 years ago. But, the priest knew me really well. He was hired by our organization to help us 'see the light of heaven'. But not even the priest is a saint. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the padre in this whole situation. He used to be one of my former targets, but being vulnerable at the time, I got the org. to hire him as a priest to help the new recruits get over their sins. Over time, we fell in love. We were engaged for a while, that is, until I walked in on him during a 'confessional' with a new recruit. I looked at him with cold eyes.
"Meryl! It's been a while...are you engaged?"
"Father, I'd like a confession." I said coldly. I hated this man with all my heart, but I could never get myself to admit it.
We walked to the confessional, and I said my prayer. He listened tentatively as I somehow told him my whole life: from the abuse my father gave me daily to the embarrassment my mother put me through in high school, to my dreams and goals that I had wished for as a little kid. Then, with wet salty tears, I told him about my target. That stupid bitch still haunted me, even after death. I could hear him chuckling on the other side of the wall.
"What's so funny Wolfwood? Can't you see that we weren't trained to feel this emotion!" My anger was clouding my mind. How dare that stupid prick laugh while I poured my whole heart into this hourly confession
He opened the window, and looked directly at me.
"No matter how much you train, you'll always have those emotions given to you as a child. Can't you understand that, Meryl? And partially to your breakdown, this target was the first person to remind you of your dreams as a child. Your 'hopes' and fantasies."
Anger...rage...hatred...
"Don't you dare say a thing about my past! It's my past, my garbage, and my business. Now, is this confession over?" He walked out of his side of the booth, and I did the same. The look in his eyes was just sick.
"3 Our Fathers, 4 Hail Mary's, and a night with the Padre might guarantee a spot in heaven." I slapped him across the face. Dumbass
"You're one sick bastard, Nicholas. I'll see you later."
I walked out of the confessional to find something totally different, refreshing, beautiful. He was kneeling on the pew, moving his lips saying a prayer. This man, had such beautiful blonde hair, his face was as innocent as a child, and he was. . .crying. A new feeling came over me. What was it?
Sympathy
I felt sympathy for the man kneeling and sobbing loudly. I walked towards his pew, and knelt down next to him. I started to say my prayers, and I could feel his eyes looking at me. When I was done, I couldn't move. I just knelt there for what seemed an hour, waiting for that man to get out of his trance. But, he never did. I saw Nicholas walk to the altar, staring at the man and I. This was my chance to make him regret ever playing me.
Disclaimer: Things I own: my wallet, imagination, computer, and all the necessities in life. Things I don't own: Trigun and other anime, my mom's car, and you get the picture.
Summary: Target, blood, death, and live it all over again. No other emotion, no regrets. A hired assassin for an underground association, Meryl lives this everyday. But, when a stranger suddenly shows up, she regains a newfound emotion lost within her. But will events of the past jeopardize everything she has gained?
+Newfound Glory+
Chapter 2: No Regrets
"But I have no regrets. None, whatsoever. I am a living-breathing killer, with no emotions, no pain, and no life."
I arrived home within minutes. The politician's office was just a walking distance from my house. Sleep was about to take over my body, but first, I had to get rid of the evidence.
Blood
The fluid was all over my new black dress. Memories of the night playback in my mind as I remove my dress and clean myself up. I still reeked of her blood, and it was killing me. After 3 attempts with the washing machine, I decided to try and hand wash the stains out. And there I stayed, for hours sittin on a stool, my fingers pruning and the smell of blood intoxicating my nose. With no avail, the sticky fluid hadn't all come out. This left me with only one last option.
Burn it.
I reluctantly threw the dress into the burning pits of the fireplace. As I watched the dress being devoured by flames, I couldn't help but remember once again the memories of tonight. You must be wondering why, why am I doing this? Why do I kill people? Is it for my own self-pleasure? Is it because I have a problem? No, that's not it.
'We're doing this to benefit mankind. Only one person has to die each day to save our civilization.'
Legato Bluesummers, my leader, my cousin, my only source of family, had told me that after my first kill. He found me off the streets, huddling in the cold with nothing but the clothes on my back and abused by both my father and mother. That's when he introduced me to the Org.
I chuckle at the thought of it. You must be wondering, what exactly is the Org? We are a group *what I really mean is over 1000* of people who believe that politicians shouldn't be the ones making decisions for human lives, for they too are mortal. We've all come from different walks of life, witnessing the problems that the government has caused with their greed and abuse of power. That's when Legato decided to create the Org, to have citizens of the world decide who should die, and who should stay in power. Don't get it? We're hired assassins targeting those politicians that the world has deemed immoral or disgusting. That's what it is, and that's who we are: assassins. Lightning strikes as I think of that last thought. We are assassins, no matter how Legato puts it, that's just who we are. For 3 years, this has been my occupation. At most times, I found no reason to live. Here I am, living and breathing, while some person is dead and all life is lost forever. But I have no regrets. None, whatsoever. I am a living-breathing killer, with no emotions, no pain, and no life.
Thunder rumbles as the fire dances in the fireplace. I suddenly remember the last thing I had taken from the woman, besides her life. The ring, the little token of appreciation from that woman.Gently, I remove the ring from my finger to get a better look at it. We in the Org are also trained to tell the value of jewelry, even though it rendered useless in the beginning. Using that training, I examined it in awe. A beautiful golden ring, worth $500,000. I felt somethin inscribed inside the ring, and found that it was a little saying from the bible.
Love is patient...Love is kind...
It was engraved into this ring and I soon realized that that woman, the one whom I had killed tonight. . . she had everything going for her. I soon felt a jolt in my heart. Is it...pain? I killed this woman, to benefit mankind? Tears rolled down my cheeks when I finally took a reality check: I was no better than these politicians that I killed daily. I'm a killer, a menace to society. And I needed to repent...
~One Week Later~
The enormous wooden doors of the church stood into view. I still could not believe that this was happening. I haven't visited this place since I started my killing spree nearly 3 years ago. But, the priest knew me really well. He was hired by our organization to help us 'see the light of heaven'. But not even the priest is a saint. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the padre in this whole situation. He used to be one of my former targets, but being vulnerable at the time, I got the org. to hire him as a priest to help the new recruits get over their sins. Over time, we fell in love. We were engaged for a while, that is, until I walked in on him during a 'confessional' with a new recruit. I looked at him with cold eyes.
"Meryl! It's been a while...are you engaged?"
"Father, I'd like a confession." I said coldly. I hated this man with all my heart, but I could never get myself to admit it.
We walked to the confessional, and I said my prayer. He listened tentatively as I somehow told him my whole life: from the abuse my father gave me daily to the embarrassment my mother put me through in high school, to my dreams and goals that I had wished for as a little kid. Then, with wet salty tears, I told him about my target. That stupid bitch still haunted me, even after death. I could hear him chuckling on the other side of the wall.
"What's so funny Wolfwood? Can't you see that we weren't trained to feel this emotion!" My anger was clouding my mind. How dare that stupid prick laugh while I poured my whole heart into this hourly confession
He opened the window, and looked directly at me.
"No matter how much you train, you'll always have those emotions given to you as a child. Can't you understand that, Meryl? And partially to your breakdown, this target was the first person to remind you of your dreams as a child. Your 'hopes' and fantasies."
Anger...rage...hatred...
"Don't you dare say a thing about my past! It's my past, my garbage, and my business. Now, is this confession over?" He walked out of his side of the booth, and I did the same. The look in his eyes was just sick.
"3 Our Fathers, 4 Hail Mary's, and a night with the Padre might guarantee a spot in heaven." I slapped him across the face. Dumbass
"You're one sick bastard, Nicholas. I'll see you later."
I walked out of the confessional to find something totally different, refreshing, beautiful. He was kneeling on the pew, moving his lips saying a prayer. This man, had such beautiful blonde hair, his face was as innocent as a child, and he was. . .crying. A new feeling came over me. What was it?
Sympathy
I felt sympathy for the man kneeling and sobbing loudly. I walked towards his pew, and knelt down next to him. I started to say my prayers, and I could feel his eyes looking at me. When I was done, I couldn't move. I just knelt there for what seemed an hour, waiting for that man to get out of his trance. But, he never did. I saw Nicholas walk to the altar, staring at the man and I. This was my chance to make him regret ever playing me.
