| Fan Fiction |
by Hibiscus
It was almost by accident that I made my first kill. That monster who destroyed my family. It was all very unsophisticated the way I did it. I was held captive by emotion, you see. Sometimes when I think back on it, I feel sorrow. I could have prolonged the kill, made it painful. Would he still have died with dancing eyes? Satisfied eyes? Maybe. But his is a mystery I am still investigating.
Things affect different people in different ways. My mother’s last words to me have become a mantra, the only meaningful thing anyone has said to me. “Be strong.” That’s what she said. What she whispered that moment before death. “Be strong.” And that’s what I am. Strong.
I used to think that heart beats were the most reassuring thing on this earth. Not my father’s embrace, not my mother’s kisses but the sound of their heartbeats – they were the song of life. I used to think that.
My second kill was two years after the first one. I was fifteen years old. I had begun to terrify people with my lack of my emotion. This was before I learnt about having different faces. My grandfather called me into his office. I turned around and went outside to the greenhouse instead. They grew orchids in that one, I remember. Beautiful things, orchids. They cleaved to the night air, their ethereality gleaming. I had many reasons for ignoring Edward’s summons. I was hardly a puppet and he the puppet master. My father had feared his own father but my mother had hated him. Passionately. The reason for which I found out later. And as a child who had revered her parents, I sought to emulate their attitudes in a sort of tribute to them. I suppose.
Edward, he found me there in the greenhouse. “Want a job?” He had asked blandly. The fifteen year old me had been curious. One of my biggest weaknesses, this curiousity but I resisted the urge to ask and question.
“Well, I’ll just leave this here. If you are interested, read it and then come and find me.” He had said placing a thick manila envelope beside me. When his footsteps no longer sounded inside or outside, I had almost unwillingly unfurled from my seat and reached out for the envelope. Ten minutes later I threw open the door to his office. He had probably known I would come. He was probably waiting.
“Are you bloody serious?” I had asked him incredulously. “You seriously want me to kill this man?” I had waved the picture in front of his eyes.
“Yes, I do. He is a bad man, with a passion for specifically fifteen year olds. He has a weakness for them, in fact. His only weakness. His security is too strong and his finances too stable.”
“I’ll do it.” These words, my words slipped out, self assured and confident.
“You are sure you can?” He had sounded amused when he had asked me that question. “He’ll touch you, maybe kiss you, before you get close enough. Will you be able to stand it?”
My blood had thrummed with excitement. My heart had raced. It was like others describe falling in love. I had stood my ground. Looked him right in the eye, smiled and said, “Yes.”
I suppose you are thinking, what kind of grandparent would ask a mere child of fifteen to do something like that. I wasn’t shocked that my grandfather’s pristine image was just a façade. I had been unconsciously aware perhaps that my grandfather wasn’t as harmless and effable that he pretended to be. His was not just a business in the usual sense of the word. My grandfather, Edward Lin was one of the partners of a crime family that the law enforcers weren’t even aware existed. Legitimate or illegitimate – it didn’t matter to him. He thirsted for power like a man in a sweltering desert yearns for water.
So my fifteen year old self – don’t judge me too harshly – I had seen my mother and my father killed with less finesse than you would see pigs being slaughtered – perhaps that is just a justification – but when I stared at the picture of the man I was supposed to kill, his features were superseded by those of the monster.
So I underwent the training required – it was a month long, a rushed affair compared to the rigorous 4 month training required of all the others. But oh. It left me feeling exhilarated – for the first time since – that day – my senses awoke and I was filled with purpose. Yes. As long as there was a risk of dying, I was happy.
“He usually hunts for prey in the mall.” Rafael, my new partner in death, had said. He was someone I hadn’t trusted in back then. So I had donned a school uniform – a catholic school uniform, the irony of which hadn’t failed to amuse me. God and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms. And clutching my brand new Hello Kitty bag, I had given Rafael a wink and sauntered off. Hips swinging. I was going hunting too.
Was my grandfather worried? Was Rafael? I hadn’t known and at that time, I hadn’t cared.
I had waited for two hours for that man. Minutes had turned into eternities. I had almost given up hope when I had seen him. He had looked enticing that man. You know, the way a vampire is purported to be beautiful, irresistible so the victim will beg to be killed? Just like that. But this man, he had made himself tempting in just the right ways, not because wanted blood. Oh no. but because he wanted the young life that sang sweetly in the veins of the fifteen year olds. I wondered faintly why he preyed on fifteen year olds specifically.
Of course I wasn’t the only teenage girl, wearing a school uniform but I was the only fifteen year old there. We were targeting his weakness – me. He followed a couple of other girls around, quickly losing interest when they turned to be older or younger than his preferred age.
Rafael had of course made certain that I was the only fifteen year old present. I suppose they could have used any other girl and just asked her to lie but then I didn’t ponder about this. Later I realized that it was Edward’s ploy to introduce me to the family business.
The man had finally approached me when I had paused to browse through some books at Chapters. He had walked up to stand beside me, confident and engaging. Soon we had a conversation going about books and favourite authors. It was then that I had discovered a new face inside of me. Isabella Leung, normal happy teenager, who hated Math and loved Sponge Bob. She liked reading and dancing. Her parents were happily married and she had a younger brother. It was instantaneous. I became Isabella in a blink. I was her.
He asked Isabella casually as they sat down at Starbucks. He had invited her for coffee and Isabella had accepted, charmed by his gentle manner. Ariel waited. I waited just behind Isabella’s wide innocent eyes. Isabella pursed her lips and said politely, “Excuse me?”
“How old are you? You look about seventeen.” He had smiled, complimenting.
Isabella had ducked down her head, blushing, shy. “Oh thank you but I just turned fifteen last week.”
A fresh fifteen. His irises had sharpened. Pure joy illuminated his features. Isabella hadn’t noticed a thing but I had. I had seen him lick his licks, anticipation exciting his nerves.
Ah. His hunger. I had smelt it. He had stunk of it, of that hunger to posses the fifteen year old, innocent Isabella Leung.
“Oh man. It’s so late. I have to go catch the bus!” Isabella had looked at her watch and pouted. I waited. This was his chance.
“Where do you live?” He had asked, sounding curious.
Isabella looked a bit uncertain for the first time. The man noted his error and hastened to correct it. “Oh it’s just that I think you go the same school as my niece. She has the same uniform as you. Perhaps you know her, Svetlana? And she lives right near here so if you want and live near; I can drop of you off.” He had positively beamed harmless.
Isabella had looked uncertain again. “I don’t know if I should take a ride with you.”
“I was going that way anyway. My wife and daughter are waiting at home.” The man was a predator. The existence of a family was a testament to his normalcy. Isabella relented and agreed to go with him.
I could smell his elation – victory, sweet victory was almost his. When he thought she wasn’t looking, the man glanced at Isabella. His loins tightened – he could almost feel himself drowning in her luscious and hopefully untried body. Her whispers of agony and terror would push him closer to a climax and he almost moaned out loud as his fantasies shivered at the chance to become reality. He was right. Isabella wasn’t looking. But I was.
He paid for the coffee and led them to his car. Isabella – no that was me, slipped off the Hello Kitty bad and placed it on my lap. I sat down. Shotgun. Right beside him. He smiled at Isabella reassuringly, got in, started the car, asked her for directons and started driving.
Of course he had no intention of driving Isabella home. Nope. The hunter had caught himself a deer. And now it was time for a meal.
“I have to run an errand first, do you mind?” The man said nicely enough. He didn’t wait for an answer. He changed lanes, got on the highway, took an exit, drove an empty road. He pulled over.
Isabella looked scared. She opened the bag and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll just call my mom.” She said, her voice quavering.
The man grabbed the phone from Isabella’s hand, opened the window and threw it away. “W-what are you doing?” Isabella was very scared.
The man’s gave traveled up Isabella’s legs, lingered on her chest, up her neck, to her lips and then met her eyes. “Not as much as I will be doing.” He smiled his real smile. Feral.
“If you touch me, I will…” Those would be the last words Isabella would ever say. The man laughed. Isabella’s fear was an aphrodisiac for him. But what he hadn’t known was that, Isabella had left. I was the one peeking from her eyes now. “You’ll do what?” He had sneered at the girl he thought was Isabella. “Hurt me?”
And it was me who had pulled the gun (a 9 mm S&W model 547) from the Hello Kitty bag. Hardly the toy a fifteen year old would carry. The shock rendered the man immobile for the few precious seconds I needed. I brought the gun to his face. He was so close I could have kissed him.
“Damn straight I will.” I said, smiled and pulled the trigger.
The aftermath? Anticlimactic. I sat in the car, covered in his blood, pieces of his skull and perhaps some brain. Not very glamorous, is that? Should I have had mercy? Should I have had hesitated to pull the trigger? Is it scary how easy it had been to take a life, his life?
No. it didn’t scare me. Not in the least. That was when I had realized that I wasn’t very different from the man two years ago. In fact, he had made me what I was then. What I am now. And as I had sat in the car, by the carcass of the man I had just killed, another realization had bloomed in me. That would not be the last time I killed.
I found out later that the reason this man was killed was not because he hunted young girls – no, it was because he refused to merge his smuggling company with Edward’s “family.” Yeah. If he had merged, they’d have overlooked his indiscretions. Do not mistake me for some passionate vigilante. I didn’t feel used. Oh no, what did it matter to me why he died. As long as he did and I killed him. Are you scared?
That was then. I am twenty one now. How many people have I killed? I don’t know. I don’t keep count. Each life I take is like blowing out a candle. A play date with Death. Macabre, I know. They call me Fire Light. I was the best assassin they had. They have. I only kill men. And while physically they had different faces, when I kill them they all look like that man who killed my parents, who killed me. This is the only way I have of feeling any deep emotion.
I wonder what it feels like to be innocent. When I go out into the night, she accepts me as her own. During the day, I always feel exposed. I look at Rosa, Ceci and Patience. And Mina. How does it feel to have no scars hurting on the inside? How does it feel to feel? To experience each emotion wholly? Totally? What does it feel like to be alive? I’ll never know, will I?
And this is how I became a monster.
The end.
Well, maybe not.
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Author's Note: Did I shock you enough?
By the way, Kettle says not to forget her. She'll be back soon.
Oh and. Mwahahaha.